In 2005, Steve Jobs gave the commencement speech at Stanford University. In it, he shared three personal stories with the newly minted graduates: of connecting the dots, of love and loss, and of death. He also urged them to “find what you love” and to “have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.”
The speech was an instant classic. TIME deemed it one of the 10 best commencement speeches ever, and it became one of Jobs’ most famous public messages.
And now, thanks to a tip from OSX Daily, the speech’s text can be found hiding in a folder in the Pages app.
You shall perhaps not do it tomorrow;
Best, while you have it, use your breath;
There is no drinking after death."
— Ben Jonson
— Laura Hillenbrand
Interviewer: But the question is more, how do you get there? Do you get there by confrontation, violence?
Davis: Oh, is that the question you were asking? Yeah see, that’s another thing. When you talk about a revolution, most people think violence, without realizing that the real content of any revolutionary thrust lies in the principles and the goals that you’re striving for, not in the way you reach them. On the other hand, because of the way this society’s organized, because of the violence that exists on the surface everywhere, you have to expect that there are going to be such explosions. You have to expect things like that as reactions. If you are a black person and live in the black community all your life and walk out on the street everyday seeing white policemen surrounding you… when I was living in Los Angeles, for instance, long before the situation in L.A ever occurred, I was constantly stopped. No, the police didn’t know who I was. But I was a black women and I had a natural and they, I suppose thought I might be “militant.”
And when you live under a situation like that constantly, and then you ask me, you know, whether I approve of violence. I mean, that just doesn’t make any sense at all. Whether I approve of guns.
I grew up in Birmingham, Alabama. Some very, very good friends of mine were killed by bombs, bombs that were planted by racists. I remember, from the time I was very small, I remember the sounds of bombs exploding across the street. Our house shaking. I remember my father having to have guns at his disposal at all times, because of the fact that, at any moment, we might expect to be attacked. The man who was, at that time, in complete control of the city government, his name was Bull Connor, would often get on the radio and make statements like, “Niggers have moved into a white neighborhood. We better expect some bloodshed tonight.” And sure enough, there would be bloodshed. After the four young girls who lived, one of them lived next door to me…I was very good friends with the sister of another one. My sister was very good friends with all three of them. My mother taught one of them in her class. My mother—in fact, when the bombing occurred, one of the mothers of one of the young girls called my mother and said, “Can you take me down to the church to pick up Carol? We heard about the bombing and I don’t have my car.” And they went down and what did they find? They found limbs and heads strewn all over the place. And then, after that, in my neighborhood, all the men organized themselves into an armed patrol. They had to take their guns and patrol our community every night because they did not want that to happen again.
Type ‘gif’ in front of any YouTube url… gifyoutube.com/?v=….
This is actually pretty cool. Wish the interface was a bit better, but cool none the less.
type ‘dmcatakedown’ in front of any youtube url
That’s what you call the kind of day in which you incidentally complete two life goals.
First completed life goal (which I didn’t even realize existed because I didn’t think it was possible): I played Big Bill Broonzy’s Martin 000-28 at work today. He left it to us when he died. I work in the place to which Big Bill Broonzy left his guitar when he died. His guitar was simply used as the house guitar, passed around between students and teachers like it was no big thing, for years. Now it lives in care of the music store, where I work. I can play it, if I want to. It’s just there.
I plucked out “Stealin’.” It played beautifully. My heart swelled. I got chills. I can’t completely explain how much of a big deal this was for me—how significant Big Bill is to me, to Chicago, to blues and folk music—but maybe this will help (and yes, that’s the one): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-pShRISHnQ
[Also, watch Paul and Dave Alvin geek out over it too, a few months ago: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQDHdJVVvgw]
Second completed life goal: I heard Carl Kasell’s recorded message on someone’s answering machine. I can’t believe it’s taken this long, but IT FINALLY HAPPENED.
That’s what I call a pretty fucking good day.
— E. Nesbit
Marrakech - Morocco
This reminds me distinctly of a particular gate to the old city where people were shitting on the walls. It was a fittingly shitty night that I came across it. Pretty much like any crappy corner in any big city—just one of those you don’t want to find yourself in, alone at midnight. One of those experiences that changes you.
Four years out from college, I’m pleased to find that I actually have become some of the things I’d dreamed I would.
I’m admittedly kind of depressed about a lot of aspects of my life, so it’s reassuring to realize that. While I haven’t yet embarked on that world tour, I am a traveler. I take a trip somewhere every few months.
I’m working my college dream job, which, though not particularly lucrative, is fulfilling in many ways and has the benefits I may be hard-pressed to find in the writing and editing gigs I’m seeking. It’s a unique institution, with a mission that aligns with mine personally. On my best days there, it’s one of the things that makes me happiest.
I’ve been living on my own almost since graduating, which was definitely part of the dream. But now, for the first time in my life, I am moving into a beautiful greystone apartment that suits all my needs, contains nothing I am allergic to, is in my ideal area, complete with a Seinfeldian landlord and a roommate who seems like a mature, clean, interesting adult. How about that?
No, I’m not a staff writer at Paste Magazine. But I am writing. That’s something. I just need to do it more.
I’ve found the holy grail of beer (Rosa by Revolution, in case you were wondering).
The rest, I’m working on. It’s nice to remind myself that it’s going all right. I’ll get there.
- eclectictsunami said:YOU ARE ASHA GREYJOY TBQH