Naval合集 |《纳瓦尔宝典》中文版上市!
前有彼得·考夫曼的《穷查理宝典》,收录了查理·芒格的个人传记、投资哲学,以及过去20年来芒格主要的公开演讲和媒体访谈;现在埃里克·乔根森(Eric Jorgenson)整理了纳瓦尔·拉维坎特(Naval Ravikant)十年来的一万七千多条推文、采访和演讲,以及播客访谈和博客论文出版了《纳瓦尔宝典Almanack of Naval Ravikant》, 聚焦如何实现财福双全的生活。本周,中文版的终于出版上市了,撒花庆祝一下! 我在这两年在文章中多次介绍过Naval这位大神,现在终于有一本书可以系统地了解他的生活哲学,十分感谢Eric花费三年时间整理并集结成册。此书还得到知名博主Tim Ferriss有史以来第一次同意写序言,以及其他我喜欢的博主的推荐(比如Shane Parrish和Tucker Max)。总结一下历年来我翻译过的Naval的推文和播客内容。 如何不靠运气致富 Naval最有名的推特风暴算是推特史上转载最多的推文之一了。核心内容就是你无法靠出卖自己的时间致富,你需要拥有资产(公司、股票或实体),或者能在你睡觉的时候帮你赚钱的技术(代码或媒体)。寻求财富,而不...
浅谈《摩登智慧》播客、活着的哲学家Derek Sivers和招聘翻译
Picture之前推荐过《Modern Wisdom 摩登智慧》这档播客。我当时因为主播Chris Williamson的颜值和身材开始收听,后来更是发现他性感的英音背后藏着满满的智慧。 这档播客的嘉宾阵容十分广泛,前一期还是哲学家探讨生命的意义,下一期就是色情演员分享拍摄经历;有学者和科学家分析当前政治形势和研究报告,也有影视和体育明星讲述圈子里不为人知的故事... 这周《摩登智慧》播客迎来了500期的里程碑,主播Chris分享了他在过去500期节目中从嘉宾身上学到的道理,简单总结一下: 1. 海豹突击队教员Jocko Willink:勇敢不是一种积极的情绪,而是一种心怀恐惧却依然付诸行动的举动。动力也是如此,你可能感受不到内心的驱动力,但你依然去做应该做的事情了,这也可以称之为动力。所以,动力是短暂的,自律才是永恒的。关键是要迈出行动的脚步,记住耐克的标语「JUST DO IT!干就是了」。 2. 作家Gurwinder Bhogal:人们持有看似荒谬的意识形态和宗教信仰并不是真的相信它们,而是为了能够融入特定的群体,不被排挤或孤立。 3. 举重教练Zack Telander...
从禅修谈起...
上个月和Chiwi Journal的嘉宾Richard Reis录了一期关于禅宗冥想的播客,这会儿他完整的写下了四个月的修行体会,简单翻译总结一下: 1. Richard一直着迷于史蒂夫·乔布斯的早年经历,他发现乔布斯尝试过多种冥想体验,追随大师去印度修行,甚至还采取极端的饮食并加入了嬉皮公社。后来乔布斯在禅宗中找到他苦苦追寻的灵性体验。无论是他的极简主义美学,还是后来在禅宗老师见证下的婚姻,禅宗贯穿于乔布斯的生活中。为了弄清楚禅宗的基本概念,Richard前往Mountain Cloud Zen Centre进行了为期四个月的闭关修炼,每天打坐两小时,由禅宗老师Henry Shukman直接教导,以下是他对于禅宗的洞见。 2. 禅宗和所有类型的冥想修行一样,体验因人而异,也收获了毁誉参半的评价。尤其对于初学者来说,禅宗模棱两可的说教,以及充满悖论的理念常常让人摸不着头脑。但是禅宗也因为其简单性(日式禅宗过滤掉很多中印佛教中常常出现的图腾和过于玄学的东西,所以你看不到因果报应和脉轮重生等概念),而拥有广泛的群众基础。日式禅宗只关注一件事,那就是训练你的思想。 3. 如果把禅宗比作...
Content Creator | Podcast Host | Marketing and Communications Consultant
Naval合集 |《纳瓦尔宝典》中文版上市!
前有彼得·考夫曼的《穷查理宝典》,收录了查理·芒格的个人传记、投资哲学,以及过去20年来芒格主要的公开演讲和媒体访谈;现在埃里克·乔根森(Eric Jorgenson)整理了纳瓦尔·拉维坎特(Naval Ravikant)十年来的一万七千多条推文、采访和演讲,以及播客访谈和博客论文出版了《纳瓦尔宝典Almanack of Naval Ravikant》, 聚焦如何实现财福双全的生活。本周,中文版的终于出版上市了,撒花庆祝一下! 我在这两年在文章中多次介绍过Naval这位大神,现在终于有一本书可以系统地了解他的生活哲学,十分感谢Eric花费三年时间整理并集结成册。此书还得到知名博主Tim Ferriss有史以来第一次同意写序言,以及其他我喜欢的博主的推荐(比如Shane Parrish和Tucker Max)。总结一下历年来我翻译过的Naval的推文和播客内容。 如何不靠运气致富 Naval最有名的推特风暴算是推特史上转载最多的推文之一了。核心内容就是你无法靠出卖自己的时间致富,你需要拥有资产(公司、股票或实体),或者能在你睡觉的时候帮你赚钱的技术(代码或媒体)。寻求财富,而不...
浅谈《摩登智慧》播客、活着的哲学家Derek Sivers和招聘翻译
Picture之前推荐过《Modern Wisdom 摩登智慧》这档播客。我当时因为主播Chris Williamson的颜值和身材开始收听,后来更是发现他性感的英音背后藏着满满的智慧。 这档播客的嘉宾阵容十分广泛,前一期还是哲学家探讨生命的意义,下一期就是色情演员分享拍摄经历;有学者和科学家分析当前政治形势和研究报告,也有影视和体育明星讲述圈子里不为人知的故事... 这周《摩登智慧》播客迎来了500期的里程碑,主播Chris分享了他在过去500期节目中从嘉宾身上学到的道理,简单总结一下: 1. 海豹突击队教员Jocko Willink:勇敢不是一种积极的情绪,而是一种心怀恐惧却依然付诸行动的举动。动力也是如此,你可能感受不到内心的驱动力,但你依然去做应该做的事情了,这也可以称之为动力。所以,动力是短暂的,自律才是永恒的。关键是要迈出行动的脚步,记住耐克的标语「JUST DO IT!干就是了」。 2. 作家Gurwinder Bhogal:人们持有看似荒谬的意识形态和宗教信仰并不是真的相信它们,而是为了能够融入特定的群体,不被排挤或孤立。 3. 举重教练Zack Telander...
从禅修谈起...
上个月和Chiwi Journal的嘉宾Richard Reis录了一期关于禅宗冥想的播客,这会儿他完整的写下了四个月的修行体会,简单翻译总结一下: 1. Richard一直着迷于史蒂夫·乔布斯的早年经历,他发现乔布斯尝试过多种冥想体验,追随大师去印度修行,甚至还采取极端的饮食并加入了嬉皮公社。后来乔布斯在禅宗中找到他苦苦追寻的灵性体验。无论是他的极简主义美学,还是后来在禅宗老师见证下的婚姻,禅宗贯穿于乔布斯的生活中。为了弄清楚禅宗的基本概念,Richard前往Mountain Cloud Zen Centre进行了为期四个月的闭关修炼,每天打坐两小时,由禅宗老师Henry Shukman直接教导,以下是他对于禅宗的洞见。 2. 禅宗和所有类型的冥想修行一样,体验因人而异,也收获了毁誉参半的评价。尤其对于初学者来说,禅宗模棱两可的说教,以及充满悖论的理念常常让人摸不着头脑。但是禅宗也因为其简单性(日式禅宗过滤掉很多中印佛教中常常出现的图腾和过于玄学的东西,所以你看不到因果报应和脉轮重生等概念),而拥有广泛的群众基础。日式禅宗只关注一件事,那就是训练你的思想。 3. 如果把禅宗比作...
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I am dead.
I died in a studio apartment approximately 37 sq. m.
I died from overdosing of anionic surfactants, benzisothiazolinone, methylisothiazolinone, phenoxyethanol, linalool, butylphenyl methylpropional and hexyl cinnamal. To put it into simple language, I was killed by a cleaning spray bottle.
Don’t ask me how I know those terminologies. If you lived long enough with those bottles as your only companies, you could remember better than I was. Trust me.
Today was a rare sunny day. I crawled to the washbasin surface where I could enjoy a ray of sunshine penetrated from the skylight in the bathroom. While I was roaming in thoughts, a high pitched screeching noise hit me to my legs.
“Wtf! Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!”
I saw a girl who was in her pyjamas with messy hair walking backwards from me. She had this facial expression of seeing something too disgusting to bear, and she started to look around in a slow motion.
Shall I go back home and take joy in this beautiful day later? I was pondering, while the warm feeling from the sun lured me to stay a bit longer.
The girl approached me one step by step with her concerned face.
Will she join me for a sunbath? I thought.
Gradually, she stood in front of me and squatted down to open the cabin door under the washbasin. All of a sudden, she screamed again and held a bottle towards me.
“Go to hell!!! Aaaahhhhhhhh!” Said she in her trembling voice.
I soaked in this colourless rain and tried to swim out of this odour water scene. However, the more I struggled, the more spray I got.
I gave it up and lost consciousness.
By the time I felt my existence again, I had sawed an ugly and contorted body lying on the washbasin surface.
Wow, who is that? And how come I can fly? I saw the same ugly but ordinary body floating in the air in the mirror.
Now I realise I’m dead.
The girl is trying to use the toilet paper to grab me and throw me away. But she is too afraid to do so and run away.
What a loss! I haven’t got time to get to know her since she moved in. I thought in my mind.
Does she know what kind of spider I am?
The first principle for me to live is to avoid contact with the linalool. There will be a chemical reaction between us. I’ll die and then release poisonous liquid and odour and make human being die.
Don’t ask me how do I know that. I’ve lived long enough to witness my family and friends died under human beings. They were burned to death, hit to death, stepped to death, and a few of them died in the same way as I was.
I witnessed all those kinds of death from the dark corner. While I was mourning, I started to notice a pattern that those who died from a spray bottle had vanished in a couple of days. The human murders began to show flu symptoms, such as coughing, sore throat, runny or stuffy nose, muscle or body aches, vomiting, diarrhoea, chest pain, breathing difficulties and recurring high fever.
Seven days after I died.
I have witnessed how the girl suffered from the above symptoms.
Poor thing.
I still remembered when she first moved in. She went in and out several times by herself. In the end, she got her three suitcases and two paper boxes all set in.
The landlord never showed up but left the key under the carpet in front of the door and put the flat instruction in the living room.
I never meet the landlord but heard a couple of anecdotes from my long-time dead grandparents.
I don’t care much about human beings’ world because they are either murders or strangers to use. However, this girl triggered my interest. Maybe I was alone for too long. Or perhaps she reminded me about myself, a lonely and ugly creature no one cares in this world.
The girl only spent one week with me. I puzzled up a story about her. It’s the first time she visited this country because she searched so many first-timer’s questions online in her own language, where to do grocery shopping? Where to join the gym? Where is the tube stations and so on.
However, she doesn’t look like a typical tourist with excitement and joyfulness. This girl has a sadness veil around her. I hardly see her smile but heard her crying from time to time.
What a poor thing.
If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to kill this girl. However, karma is a bitch. The moment she made a choice to kill me, there was nothing I could do to save her.
Thirteen days later, my body has already vanished. I’m a ghost sitting on the surface to enjoy sunbath with a company of the girl’s ghost.
The girl had died on her bed. She bled from her nose, mouth and ears and coughed too hard to pass away. She died more dramatic than I was.
“Good morning, murder,” says the girl in a cold voice.
“Good morning, murder.” I reply back with a smile. Although I don’t know if she can notice.
“I never thought I could have a conversation with a spider,” says the girl with a bitter sigh.
“I never thought I could have a sunbath with a human being.” I kind of enjoy this experience.
“What’s your plan?” The girl asks me and looks up at the skylight. The sun has never been so bright that the girl’s ghost looks invisible to me.
“I don’t know. Maybe wait for neighbours or policemen to deal with your body?” I answer back.
And I notice that I was talking to myself the whole time. The girl is still on the bed, bleeding. Everything else is the illusion.
Maybe I need a friend. I thought in my head.
But, what’s the meaning of a non-existed spider to have a friend?
What’s the reality? Am I in reality or in the dream?
I can’t tell, but nothing matters anymore.
Others who are still living, in reality, won’t care much about me but the girl, will they? Or will they care about the girl?
In twenty-one days, the girl’s body was found by a burglar. He doesn’t do anything but takes all her valuable belongings.
In forty-three days, a cleaning lady comes over as planned and calls the police.
In fifty-seven days, the apartment has been evacuated with a deep cleaned.
In sixty-nine days, new furnished has been set up.
In eighty-two days, new tenants move in.
Everything is a loop, and history is always repeating itself.
Now, the only difference is that I’ll live in this apartment forever with my new body to continue witnessing people come and die.
crowdfund://0x02e607171B7E912df6D07A6884EA5A2f2b8265d7?features=overview,editions,podium,backers
I am dead.
I died in a studio apartment approximately 37 sq. m.
I died from overdosing of anionic surfactants, benzisothiazolinone, methylisothiazolinone, phenoxyethanol, linalool, butylphenyl methylpropional and hexyl cinnamal. To put it into simple language, I was killed by a cleaning spray bottle.
Don’t ask me how I know those terminologies. If you lived long enough with those bottles as your only companies, you could remember better than I was. Trust me.
Today was a rare sunny day. I crawled to the washbasin surface where I could enjoy a ray of sunshine penetrated from the skylight in the bathroom. While I was roaming in thoughts, a high pitched screeching noise hit me to my legs.
“Wtf! Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!”
I saw a girl who was in her pyjamas with messy hair walking backwards from me. She had this facial expression of seeing something too disgusting to bear, and she started to look around in a slow motion.
Shall I go back home and take joy in this beautiful day later? I was pondering, while the warm feeling from the sun lured me to stay a bit longer.
The girl approached me one step by step with her concerned face.
Will she join me for a sunbath? I thought.
Gradually, she stood in front of me and squatted down to open the cabin door under the washbasin. All of a sudden, she screamed again and held a bottle towards me.
“Go to hell!!! Aaaahhhhhhhh!” Said she in her trembling voice.
I soaked in this colourless rain and tried to swim out of this odour water scene. However, the more I struggled, the more spray I got.
I gave it up and lost consciousness.
By the time I felt my existence again, I had sawed an ugly and contorted body lying on the washbasin surface.
Wow, who is that? And how come I can fly? I saw the same ugly but ordinary body floating in the air in the mirror.
Now I realise I’m dead.
The girl is trying to use the toilet paper to grab me and throw me away. But she is too afraid to do so and run away.
What a loss! I haven’t got time to get to know her since she moved in. I thought in my mind.
Does she know what kind of spider I am?
The first principle for me to live is to avoid contact with the linalool. There will be a chemical reaction between us. I’ll die and then release poisonous liquid and odour and make human being die.
Don’t ask me how do I know that. I’ve lived long enough to witness my family and friends died under human beings. They were burned to death, hit to death, stepped to death, and a few of them died in the same way as I was.
I witnessed all those kinds of death from the dark corner. While I was mourning, I started to notice a pattern that those who died from a spray bottle had vanished in a couple of days. The human murders began to show flu symptoms, such as coughing, sore throat, runny or stuffy nose, muscle or body aches, vomiting, diarrhoea, chest pain, breathing difficulties and recurring high fever.
Seven days after I died.
I have witnessed how the girl suffered from the above symptoms.
Poor thing.
I still remembered when she first moved in. She went in and out several times by herself. In the end, she got her three suitcases and two paper boxes all set in.
The landlord never showed up but left the key under the carpet in front of the door and put the flat instruction in the living room.
I never meet the landlord but heard a couple of anecdotes from my long-time dead grandparents.
I don’t care much about human beings’ world because they are either murders or strangers to use. However, this girl triggered my interest. Maybe I was alone for too long. Or perhaps she reminded me about myself, a lonely and ugly creature no one cares in this world.
The girl only spent one week with me. I puzzled up a story about her. It’s the first time she visited this country because she searched so many first-timer’s questions online in her own language, where to do grocery shopping? Where to join the gym? Where is the tube stations and so on.
However, she doesn’t look like a typical tourist with excitement and joyfulness. This girl has a sadness veil around her. I hardly see her smile but heard her crying from time to time.
What a poor thing.
If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to kill this girl. However, karma is a bitch. The moment she made a choice to kill me, there was nothing I could do to save her.
Thirteen days later, my body has already vanished. I’m a ghost sitting on the surface to enjoy sunbath with a company of the girl’s ghost.
The girl had died on her bed. She bled from her nose, mouth and ears and coughed too hard to pass away. She died more dramatic than I was.
“Good morning, murder,” says the girl in a cold voice.
“Good morning, murder.” I reply back with a smile. Although I don’t know if she can notice.
“I never thought I could have a conversation with a spider,” says the girl with a bitter sigh.
“I never thought I could have a sunbath with a human being.” I kind of enjoy this experience.
“What’s your plan?” The girl asks me and looks up at the skylight. The sun has never been so bright that the girl’s ghost looks invisible to me.
“I don’t know. Maybe wait for neighbours or policemen to deal with your body?” I answer back.
And I notice that I was talking to myself the whole time. The girl is still on the bed, bleeding. Everything else is the illusion.
Maybe I need a friend. I thought in my head.
But, what’s the meaning of a non-existed spider to have a friend?
What’s the reality? Am I in reality or in the dream?
I can’t tell, but nothing matters anymore.
Others who are still living, in reality, won’t care much about me but the girl, will they? Or will they care about the girl?
In twenty-one days, the girl’s body was found by a burglar. He doesn’t do anything but takes all her valuable belongings.
In forty-three days, a cleaning lady comes over as planned and calls the police.
In fifty-seven days, the apartment has been evacuated with a deep cleaned.
In sixty-nine days, new furnished has been set up.
In eighty-two days, new tenants move in.
Everything is a loop, and history is always repeating itself.
Now, the only difference is that I’ll live in this apartment forever with my new body to continue witnessing people come and die.
crowdfund://0x02e607171B7E912df6D07A6884EA5A2f2b8265d7?features=overview,editions,podium,backers
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