“Whenever we hear someone refer to their business as, ‘oh, this is my startup,’ we’re like, ‘oh, you mean your unfunded business,’ ” says Hantoot. “We are beholden to nobody.”
Patent No.8200477. 2012.
￼￼￼￼￼￼￼Patent awarded for text mining tools used to analyze raw social media data and to track “opinions” indicating the birth of trends. Advanced analytics helps distinguish an enduring trend from a fleeting fad. IBM used this technology to predict the rise of Steampunk—which will show up everywhere by 2014. You heard it here first.
Awesome gif to illustrate NLP.
Standing by the window here at my office, trying to push things to tomorrow where I can. Looking out at what became a beautiful Boston sunset.
Marathon Monday, Patriots Day.
I’ve never understood it as a holiday - we already have July 4 for the whole of our country. I’ve joked that it’s socialist Massachusetts celebrating its tax haul. It’s Boston celebrating its own special role in American history, its pride of place for being here at the beginning.
Today, in the midst of not understanding a damned thing about what happened around us today at the Marathon, I’m starting to get it. A hundred hurt, many dead, a very special day for this community literally torn apart. It’s just making my stomach churn and my eyes water.
I’m sick, sick, sick with hurt for this. It’s going to change everything again, just like 9/11 did, and now here, right in the center of the city where I live.
On Patriots Day - as my mom noted, “they [the terrorists] must have loved that” - this was perpetrated against us and, I assume, against our freedoms, in the very city where we started fighting for them.
We can’t forget that terror attacks like these are a result of the ways we Americans live our lives, and that being a patriot isn’t loving the country you call home after you win it.
You start being a patriot when nothing’s sure and you’re probably going to lose and it’s chaos, It’s being feisty enough to keep fighting for ourselves, even when the fallout is terrible and it affects your brother and your mother and everyone around you, and the British are coming the British are coming and you might *die*. That’s what being a patriot in Boston was then, and was today.
There’s a picture that I’m sure will be the image of this tragedy - a man with his leg blown off down to the bone, grey from blood loss, just looking dazed as his belt is used as a tourniquet.
That man from the photo - I pray to God he’s still alive, though assuredly he is struggling for that life right now. He’s looking away from the camera, away from everything, sinking into himself and - I fear - to the cold of death.
He has nothing to do with the “fight” of whoever did this; none of us did. The fight of Boston’s first patriots was won hundreds of years ago.
He’s not a combatant. But he is a patriot.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.