As most non-tech folks missed this the first time through, a great, in-depth recap of the Stuxnet worm, which secretly derailed Iran’s nuclear program:

The construction of the worm was so advanced, it was “like the arrival of an F-35 into a World War I battlefield,” says Ralph Langner, the computer expert who was the first to sound the alarm about Stuxnet.

Was this us or the Israelis?  I suspect the second, and am extremely impressed either way.

What’s Next: Body Hacking

Back in the fall of 2004, a British technology journalist named Danny O’Brien gave a talk entitled Life Hacks: Tech Secrets of Overprolific Alpha Geeks, and single-handedly launched the life hacking movement.

Life hacking was initially about the programming world – about using things like clever shell scripts and command line utilities to make coding easier – but the concept quickly expanded to the non-programming (though generally tech-savvy) internet at large. Soon, the term ‘life hack’ came to mean any clever, non-obvious way to solve an everyday problem. Like, for example, leaving an item you need to take to work tomorrow in front of the door the night before – you won’t miss it, because you’d otherwise have to step over it on the way out. Or, at a higher level, something like David Allen’s Getting Things Done time management system, which retrofits your humble to-do list to encompass tracking all the open commitments in your entire life.

Sites like Merlin Mann’s 43folders.com and Gawker Media’s Lifehacker.com sprung up to further / cash in on the life hack trend, as did dozens of books, conferences, and podcasts. But the apotheosis of life hacking was surely Tim Ferriss’ bestselling The 4-Hour Work Week: Escape 9-5, Live Anywhere, and Join the New Rich, which brought together basic productivity ideas (like time-boxing and the Pareto principle) with a step-by-step plan for small-scale internet entrepreneurship, to the ostensible end of making every reader an independently wealthy, uber-efficient, world-traveling iconoclast.

The book may have fallen short of that goal, but the hype never did, largely due to Tim himself. The man, whatever else people may think of him, is a marketing genius. So I’m not surprised that his next book, the shortly upcoming The 4 Hour Body is on trend with its new body hacking angle.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Anyway, it’s 2004 and 2005, the life hacking world is cranking ahead, and geeks and tech-dorks of all stripes are more productive (or, as was joked, at least more theoretically productive) than ever. They have a sense of boundless power – figure out the tricks, and you’re made! And, at the same time, per usual, they’re not getting laid.

Enter Neil Strauss (and with him, Mystery), via The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists. And lo! It’s their own story! A dorky guy who’s terrible with women, who learns the hacks, the tricks, the secret moves, and suddenly he’s up to his neck (and perhaps other parts) in ladies.

It’s life hacking all over again. Think of it as sex hacking.

Of course, like life hacking, it had its own problems.

Life hacking was ostensibly a way to allow people to do ‘thought work’ more creatively, by keeping them from getting swamped by the mundane detail of their lives. Yet constantly tweaking and hacking the hacks becomes an awfully effective form of procrastination, and a particularly good way to never quite make it to the creative thought work after all. For too many people, it was less Getting Things Done, and more Getting Things Overly Organized in a Interconnected Array of Complex Lists.

Similarly, while the young pick-up artists (or PUAs) devoted to Strauss and The Game quickly developed a ruthless, video-game efficiency at ‘scoring’ with the ladies, most still had no idea what to do next. They couldn’t quite swing the dynamics of a real relationship, and were as lonely and unhappy as before, albeit now with wildly more exciting STDs.

Still, victory! Or as close as could be hacked. Yet things seemed to be falling apart at a most fundamental level. Our life hacking sex hackers pushed into their 30’s, 40’s, or 50’s. They had back pain and knee pain and shoulder pain. Their mid-section bulges continued to expand. Their parents looked even worse. Their mortality, in the form of an ever-increasing stream of alarming news coverage (like the New England Journal of Medicine‘s “this generation could be the first in the history of the United States to live less healthful and shorter lives than their parents”), smacked them in the face.

Couldn’t that hacking savvy, that shortcut-focused, outside-the-box, cleverer-than-the-mainstream thinking, apply to our bodies, too?

Indeed. Enter Ferriss, on point as always, with the upcoming 4-Hour Body. In it, he assures us, you’ll learn:

* How to prevent fat gain while bingeing (X-mas, holidays, weekends)
* How to increase fat-loss 300% with a few bags of ice
* How Tim gained 34 pounds of muscle in 28 days, without steroids, and in four hours of total gym time
* How to reverse “permanent” injuries
* How to add 150+ pounds to your lifts in 6 months

Etc., etc., etc. Whole new vistas of hackery, yet still firmly rooted in the life hacking (note that the four-hour gimmick remains) and sex hacking (with chapters like ‘How to produce 15-minute female orgasms’ and ‘How to triple testosterone and double sperm count’) worlds.

The difference is, in this case, many of the hacks might actually live up to their billing.

In the creative thought-work realm that life hacking addresses, there isn’t an array of powerful secrets, there’s just a single unfortunate truth: making interesting things is hard and painful and it sucks and none of us wants to do it (and god knows I can find cleverer ways to avoid it than most), but eventually work gets done by actually doing it, and sooner or later you’ve got to suck it the fuck up and get down to that work.

And, in the love realm that sex hacking ostensibly addresses, there isn’t a simple secret either. Women don’t just appear strange and mystifying, they are strange and mystifying. They’re full of more thoughts and concerns and desires and neuroses than our simple guy brains can usually even comprehend, much less boil down to ‘up up down down left right left right B A select start’ secret codes.

But in the realm of health, the problem actually is extraordinarily simple, and easy to address: we’re meant to be wild animals; instead, we’ve entirely domesticated ourselves. We’re zoo animals, and we have all the same problems that other zoo animals have as compared to their counterparts in the wild.

We’ve avoided this insight for a very long time, in a slew of different ways. For a while, we thought technology would save us. Advances in modern medicine would cure cancer before the cigarettes killed us. The nanobots would repair us at a cellular level, extending our lives indefinitely. We’d reach Kurzweil’s Singularity, transcending biology entirely. But, like jet-packs, flying cars, and intelligent robots, those miracles seemed to always be just a bit further than expected down the line.

So we thought small and concrete, and we listened to what the health experts told us. We cut our fat intake (30% less as a country than we ate 30 years ago) and we ate more fiber. We took statins and we took the stairs. And in the end, we’re fatter than we’ve ever been. We have more Type II Diabetes, more heart attacks, more Metabolic Syndrome.

So, it turns out, the experts suck. There’s vast room for improvement. And there are endless interpretations of the simple ‘be a wild animal not a zoo animal’ solution that we’ve so long ignored, especially when that idea is put through the empirical wringer of even “n=1” self-experimentation.

Which, basically, is Ferriss’ new book in a nutshell. And, as a result, I suspect it will do very well. As will, for example, John Durant‘s upcoming book, a slightly different lifestyle / fitness book to be published by the same Random House / Crown imprint. And, in their wake, I think we’ll see a fast-increasing tide of body hacking content, of mainstream interest in finding smarter, more efficient, more effective ways to be and feel healthy.

Which is to say, body hacking: it’s the next big thing. You heard it here first.

Fun with Amazon reviews:

We live underground. We speak with our hands. We wear the earplugs all our lives.

PLEASE! You must listen! We cannot maintain the link for long… I will type as fast as I can.

DO NOT USE THE CABLES!

We were fools, fools to develop such a thing!…

The $6,800 AudioQuest K2 Speaker Cable

This is a diorama of our recent history. People love to say they miss the ragged, gritty, vivid aura of New York in the ’70s. Yet it still lives! Down in the corridors of Penn Station, you can appreciate how much effort it takes to hold off entropy. Think of it as a ’70s theme park, but without gangs or muggers or hookers roaming around … very frequently.

In praise of Penn Station.

New Haircut

It’s been more than six years since I last redesigned this site – or last updated its back-end – so a change was long overdue.

Hence the new Self-Aggrandizement, which you’re reading now.

In back, the infrastructure shift from Movable Type to WordPress should allow me to more easily post photo galleries, blog on the road from the iPad, and otherwise generally get more and better content up here faster.

Up front, the big switch is to this single-column design, which I really like for its minimalist, all-about-the-text approach.

As for Salmagundi – the links that previously lived in my right sidebar – they’re still alive and well. I’ll just be intermixing them between the longer posts in this single column. (However, if you’d rather just see the links, you can check out the Salmagundi category archives, or the RSS feed from that page.)

Anyway, it’s up. Back to it.

Peak to Peak

There’s a lot of research behind the idea that we measure how well we’re doing in life not by absolute measures, but by relative ones.

Most people would (perhaps obviously) choose to earn $75,000 over $50,000, all else being equal.

Yet change that choice to be between earning $50,000 while your friends and colleagues earn $40,000, or earning $75,000 while your friends and family earn $100,000, and the popular option flips. Most people choose to earn less overall, rather than to earn more overall while still earning less than those around them.

Evolutionarily, we’re wired to look for our standing within a group. We determine how we’re doing by checking how well we compare.

And that, I think, is the danger of Twitter.

Most people’s average days are, well, pretty average. Yet within any given day, at least one relatively interesting thing is likely to happen. That’s the part people tweet about:

“I’m at [fill in the blank interesting place]!”

“Just ran into [fill in the blank important person]!”

“OMG! I love [trendy thing]!”

Basically, you get the highlight reel of all your acquaintances’ lives, 140 characters at a time. All of whom, extrapolating from there, seem to spend their entire lives attending parties, being fabulous, and generally living very well.

But, like in reality TV, the trick is in the editing. You live the entirety of your life (the highs, middles, and lows), and only read about their lives’ peaks.

So, rather than let Twitter depress you with comparison-driven angst, consider a thought experiment I personally enjoy: Tweets that your friends should publish if they were trying to reflect the full balance of their lives, but probably never will:

“Still working on [busywork related to current mind-numbing project]!”

“Eating a tub of Haagen Dazs alone on the couch while watching TV again!”

“Holy crap, I just had really explosive diarrhea, and boy did it burn!”

Sushi 2010

Six years back, I wrote a run-down of NYC sushi that inexplicably made the rounds of New York blogs, food blogs, etc., and for years floated atop Google’s results for ‘new york sushi’ and ‘sushi nyc’.

By now, that post is far out of date, but more than a handful of friends and colleagues still ask where to find excellent sushi.

So, to help them and you out, allow me to share the complete list:

1. Sushi Yasuda

That’s it. Seriously. I admit to a bit of paternal pride, having pronounced Sushi Yasuda as the future king of New York a few weeks after it first opened eight years ago. But, really, by now, everything else is varying degrees of crap.

I’m not sure what accounts for the decline, exactly. Perhaps fewer diners in a poor economy yields less fish turnover, and therefore older fish. Perhaps restaurants are just scrimping on quality to save. Or, perhaps, as my father (whose foundation focuses on island healthcare) contends, the problem is at the supply, rather than demand, end of the chain: small island countries have been hit particularly hard by the economic downtown, leading to fewer people working fishing boats, less frequent flights to ship fish back to the mainland, etc.

Whatever the reason, despite the reputation, despite the price point, by now, most of the city’s high-end sushi just isn’t that good. Sushi Yasuda’s is.

And, of course, there’s the great story behind the place:

Chef Yasuda was a young hot-shot chef in Japan in the ’80’s, inventing a style of eel preparation that spread nationally in the same way as Nobu’s miso black cod has here in the US. (As an aside, there is no such thing as black cod – it’s really just sable. Nobu took a cheap and widely available cut of fish, covered it with an equally cheap glaze, then re-branded it to sound exotic, and has been rolling in the dollars ever since).

Anyway, Yasuda comes to New York, and takes a job at Hatsuhana, the priciest, most venerable sushi stop at that time. Quickly, he rises up to star status.

And then, one day, like many days before, somebody comes in and orders a spicy tuna roll.

This time, however, Yasuda refuses. He can’t take it. Never again, he says, will he serve spicy mayo sauce.

He and the owners fight it out. The Hatsuhana side contends that, while spicy mayo is indeed a completely inauthentic way to destroy excellent fish, we Americans are too stupid, too unsophisticated to appreciate the real deal.

Yasuda, instead, argues that we’ve simply never been given the chance.

Hence Sushi Yasuda. Exceedingly good, exceedingly traditional sushi.

Try it out. Or better yet, don’t. Because, honestly, after you do, you’re going to have a hell of a time appreciating the sushi that’s served these days anywhere else.