Many people dismiss morning television as fluff, but the morning hours are where the money is. While the Internet has upended the nightly news, and on-demand services like Netflix continue to disrupt prime time, the morning shows remain one place in the TV industry where the business model still really works, at least for now. Thanks to its five million daily viewers and four hours of irrepressible cheer, “Today” earns NBC $500 million in annual revenue.
I began some of my mornings the past 10 years with the "breakfast of champions"—a big glass filled with a shot or more of brandy, some Kahlúa and cream. Billy Martin and I used to drink them all the time, and I named the drink after us. Sometimes when I was in New York with nothing to do, and Billy and I were together, we would stop into my restaurant on Central Park South at around 10 in the morning, and the bartender would dump all the ingredients into a blender and stir it right up. It tasted real good.
“The sun was high to their backs and the wind was fast in their faces and 100,000 sons and daughters of Ireland, and those who would hold with them, matched strides with their shadows for 52 blocks,” Mr. Phillips wrote in 1961. “It seemed they marched from Midtown to exhaustion.”
Why, Peretti wondered, was it so difficult to spread some worthy ideas when spurious things like urban myths and dancing-baby gifs took on inexplicable life? “They’re memes,” Peretti told an interviewer, using a then-obscure academic term coined by the evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins. Successful memes self-replicate, like genes in the cultural ecosystem.
The greatest use of a life is to spend it on something that will outlast it.
Most startups are a waste of time and brainpower. There, I said it. We solve super niche problems just to get that cofounder badge and drive equity value. Making money is admirable. And startups are hard as fuck, so these entrepreneurs deserve a lot of credit. But the world outside the startup bubble needs more from us. We can do better. We need to do better. And we will do better.
For the purposes of this column: If the NBA operated with an open market like baseball does, and teams could spend whatever they wanted without any real fear of the luxury tax, then LeBron would earn more than four times what he's making right now. You heard me … $75 million per season. That's not a misprint. The Lakers, Knicks and Nets would pay him that without blinking. Think of what you're... getting: He drives up your courtside prices, your suite prices, your cable ratings (Miami's jumped 34 percent last season) and your sponsorship packages; he makes you the league's most relevant franchise; he guarantees you 10-12 playoff home games every year; and oh yeah, you might win a few championships, too.
‘The difference in intelligence between humans and chimpanzees is tiny,’ he said. ‘But in that difference lies the contrast between 7 billion inhabitants and a permanent place on the endangered species list. That tells us it’s possible for a relatively small intelligence advantage to quickly compound and become decisive.’
Give a grown adult a series of random prompts and cues, and odds are he or she will recall a disproportionate number of memories from adolescence. This phenomenon even has a name—the “reminiscence bump”—and it’s been found over and over in large population samples, with most studies suggesting that memories from the ages of 15 to 25 are most vividly retained.
Goode was cast in the film after his friend Colin Firth turned it down, he says at the Q&A after, standing in an awkward row with Kidman, Wasikowska, and Park. “As an Englishman, you don’t think you’re gonna get the chance to work with a Korean master,” he says. “Outside of a dojo, anyway.” There is an awkward silence. A mortified Goode hands the mic to someone else, contemplates the floor.
On March 16, 2007, Morgan Stanley employees working on one of the toxic assets that helped blow up the world economy discussed what to name it. Among the team members’ suggestions: “Subprime Meltdown,” “Hitman,” “Nuclear Holocaust” and “Mike Tyson’s Punchout,” as well a simple yet direct reference to a bag of excrement.
We drove a few blocks south to the residential Lowell Street, also located in Santa Ana, and began shooting in front of a street sign. Within minutes a camera brandishing woman approached us and angrily asked if we were Klan members. When we told her we were doing a story for OC Weekly and that her street was named after a Klansman, she seemed stunned. She said she'd been a resident there for 30 years.
On Friday, Mr. Parker and Mr. Stone were putting together the final news release to announce their studio. They settled on this quip: “Having worked with several different studios over the years, we came to realize that our favorite people in the world are ourselves.”
If Schrader wasn’t worried about Lohan’s reputation, it might be because he is familiar with dysfunction. As a boy, his mother showed him what hell felt like by shoving a needle into his thumb. His father lobbied to prevent “The Last Temptation of Christ,” a film his son wrote, from playing in their hometown, Grand Rapids, Mich. After his father died, Schrader found that he owned VHS tapes of all... of his films, but none of them had been opened. In his 20s, Schrader slept with a gun under his pillow because he could fall asleep only if he knew there was a way out. Now he never travels without thousands of dollars in the currency of half a dozen countries.
But yeah, it doesn’t make any sense -- a Korean and Indian guy getting burgers in the middle of the night, and then we make three movies out of that? It doesn’t make any sense.