AOL soaks up Silicon Valley spirit to inspire new apps
The former Internet darling, attempting a tough comeback, has a new strategy that goes beyond buying properties such as The Huffington Post and TechCrunch and building out its media presence with Patch, a network of struggling hyper-local news sites.
The scheme: Lease a building from Google in the heart of the Silicon Valley, let engineers go wild — just as they do at Google and Facebook — and hope it pays off with innovative new products.
"The space you work in is a reflection of the kind of company you are," says Brad Garlinghouse, AOL's president of the Applications and Commerce Group. "You get innovation," he insists, from "working in a space that's very open and doesn't have offices … where people can work together and play together."
For years, AOL has been trying to stem the erosion of its audiences by buying brands, introducing products and tweaking old ones. CEO Tim Armstrong has undertaken a number of high-profile initiatives to jump-start growth following the company's failed merger with and eventual spinoff in 2009 from Time Warner and the resulting hundreds of layoffs. But while AOL has been spending heavily to turn around its fortunes, its financial picture has yet to inch upward. In its most recent quarterly earnings report, AOL posted earnings of $4.7 million, down from $34.7 million, on revenue of $551 million, down from $664 million a year ago.
The mood at the 225,000-square-foot, three-story building here is more like that of a technology start-up. Employees are encouraged to draw on the walls, play pool and ping-pong, and come to work whenever they like. All they have to do in return is produce hot websites and mobile apps.
Across the street from Stanford University, AOL's West Coast campus is a technology facilitator. AOL occupies only about one-third of the new space. The rest was open initially rent-free to several start-ups, including e-mail management firm Xobni and feedback researcher Medallia. (AOL has begun charging rent.)
2011年6月29日星期三
2011年6月23日星期四
Using your 'other' hand benefits your brain
Using your 'other' hand benefits your brain
Recently I had surgery on my hand, leaving me functionally single-handed for a time. Here's the bad news: I'm right-handed and I was left a lefty. I soon learned that my two hands may look the same, but the left one does not behave as well as its preferred sister. I struggled. I looked ridiculous brushing my teeth with my odd hand, trying to start my car (how to turn that key?), and eating soup was nearly impossible. My left hand was quickly earning a reputation as a slacker. It seems it was left out when it came to coordination.
This bad rap for the left side is long rooted in history. In fact, the Latin word for "left" is sinistra, as in "sinister," while "right" in Latin is dexter, as in "dexterous." Everyone knows you're valuable if you're the right-hand man (or woman). Right just feels right and left feels all wrong for the 85+ percent of the human population that is right-hand dominant. I was out in left field with my left hand.
It turns out there are degrees of handedness, which can be evaluated using an objective scale called the Edinburgh Handedness Inventory. A full 55 percent of the American population is said to be "strongly right-handed," just 2 to 3 percent are "strongly left-handed" and the rest fall in between.
Yet, regardless of which hand you prefer, this preferred hand is hooked up to the opposite side of your brain. So my trusty right hand is connected to my left brain—the side responsible for language, judgment and intellect. But my clumsy left side is connected to my right brain, the source of creativity, perception and empathy.
There are many theories for how we become right- or left-handed—from sun positioning to location of your liver. "My theory is that we're frequently right-handed because we're language-dominant creatures and the left side of our brain—the part that processes the sound of speech—is usually larger and more dominant," says Carl Hale, Psy.D., neuropsychologist with Neuropsychology and Learning Associates in Merrillville and Fishers, Indiana. Others theorize that our position in the womb determines our handedness. They guess that the ear which faces out of the womb receives the most stimulation, which then stimulates the corresponding side of the brain.
Recently I had surgery on my hand, leaving me functionally single-handed for a time. Here's the bad news: I'm right-handed and I was left a lefty. I soon learned that my two hands may look the same, but the left one does not behave as well as its preferred sister. I struggled. I looked ridiculous brushing my teeth with my odd hand, trying to start my car (how to turn that key?), and eating soup was nearly impossible. My left hand was quickly earning a reputation as a slacker. It seems it was left out when it came to coordination.
This bad rap for the left side is long rooted in history. In fact, the Latin word for "left" is sinistra, as in "sinister," while "right" in Latin is dexter, as in "dexterous." Everyone knows you're valuable if you're the right-hand man (or woman). Right just feels right and left feels all wrong for the 85+ percent of the human population that is right-hand dominant. I was out in left field with my left hand.
It turns out there are degrees of handedness, which can be evaluated using an objective scale called the Edinburgh Handedness Inventory. A full 55 percent of the American population is said to be "strongly right-handed," just 2 to 3 percent are "strongly left-handed" and the rest fall in between.
Yet, regardless of which hand you prefer, this preferred hand is hooked up to the opposite side of your brain. So my trusty right hand is connected to my left brain—the side responsible for language, judgment and intellect. But my clumsy left side is connected to my right brain, the source of creativity, perception and empathy.
There are many theories for how we become right- or left-handed—from sun positioning to location of your liver. "My theory is that we're frequently right-handed because we're language-dominant creatures and the left side of our brain—the part that processes the sound of speech—is usually larger and more dominant," says Carl Hale, Psy.D., neuropsychologist with Neuropsychology and Learning Associates in Merrillville and Fishers, Indiana. Others theorize that our position in the womb determines our handedness. They guess that the ear which faces out of the womb receives the most stimulation, which then stimulates the corresponding side of the brain.
2011年6月19日星期日
Selling shoes, Dad taught me to see work as a calling
Selling shoes, Dad taught me to see work as a calling
Sure, I knew women who worked, but the impression the young me got from them was that women had jobs not so much because they wanted them, but because they
had to have them, to help their families survive financially. With my heart set on being a journalist, I felt my work would be different. To figure out what
it was like to be someone who saw his profession as a calling, I looked to Dad.
For his entire adult life, Dad was a manager for the now-shuttered Kinney Shoes. What a disservice the shoe man Al Bundy on the TV comedy “Married ... with
Children” did for that job! My dad, who has been retired for quite a while now, just loved his work; he enjoyed the customers and his employees so much.
I know I picked up a lot from watching how he felt about his job. Working long hours, giving the job your all — and then some — treating the people who
worked for you fairly, those are all traits I believe I picked up from Dad.
As a teen I worked for him. We rode to work together — more time to glean his wisdom — and it was in these years I witnessed how, when you found the kind
of work you loved, there was so much joy and personal satisfaction in it. Take the first big snow of every season. While everyone else dreaded its arrival,
that was like Christmas Day for Dad. The store would be packed, boxes of boots were everywhere and the register never stopped ringing. In the middle of it
all there he was, talking to customers, helping this employee or that one and always so pleased at the big sales.
Or there’d be the times when he’d be out back tinting a pair of shoes for someone’s prom or a wedding. He’d stand at that table mixing those colors like
a chemist and experimenting until he’d gotten it just right; after all, someone would wear them for a special day. From watching him, I realized if I was
going to have a career, money was not nearly as important as having work that mattered to you.
Sure, I knew women who worked, but the impression the young me got from them was that women had jobs not so much because they wanted them, but because they
had to have them, to help their families survive financially. With my heart set on being a journalist, I felt my work would be different. To figure out what
it was like to be someone who saw his profession as a calling, I looked to Dad.
For his entire adult life, Dad was a manager for the now-shuttered Kinney Shoes. What a disservice the shoe man Al Bundy on the TV comedy “Married ... with
Children” did for that job! My dad, who has been retired for quite a while now, just loved his work; he enjoyed the customers and his employees so much.
I know I picked up a lot from watching how he felt about his job. Working long hours, giving the job your all — and then some — treating the people who
worked for you fairly, those are all traits I believe I picked up from Dad.
As a teen I worked for him. We rode to work together — more time to glean his wisdom — and it was in these years I witnessed how, when you found the kind
of work you loved, there was so much joy and personal satisfaction in it. Take the first big snow of every season. While everyone else dreaded its arrival,
that was like Christmas Day for Dad. The store would be packed, boxes of boots were everywhere and the register never stopped ringing. In the middle of it
all there he was, talking to customers, helping this employee or that one and always so pleased at the big sales.
Or there’d be the times when he’d be out back tinting a pair of shoes for someone’s prom or a wedding. He’d stand at that table mixing those colors like
a chemist and experimenting until he’d gotten it just right; after all, someone would wear them for a special day. From watching him, I realized if I was
going to have a career, money was not nearly as important as having work that mattered to you.
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