'Suddenly, the humble bucket has become a trendy fixture of corporate boardrooms and PowerPoint presentations. It is pushing aside other business-speak for describing categories or organizational units, such as silo and basket.'

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Hey, psst. Over here. Yeah, you, in the blue shirt. You wanna be cool, kid? You want to all your little trader friends at Citi to think you’re the guy with the 411? You want to have the 85 Broads at your beck and call? You want the street cred to be able to pull off having “grave dancer” tattooed on your lower back? You want to roll up to the Exchange and have John Thain valet park your car? Does that sounds like something you’d be interested? I’ve got one word for you kid: bucket. Use it. Don’t tell anyone I told you, just start slipping it in, let it disseminate in the board rooms, let it seep in through osmosis on conference calls, use it with the beautiful babies at Marquee. Not 'silo,' not 'trunk,' not 'basket,' which conjures an image of someone picking flowers in a field. Bucket. Why? Because fuck you, that’s why. Jeez, I’m trying to help you kid and you want know why? Who is this kid, Bobby? 'Why?' this kid wants to know. No more questions, this consultation is over. Yeah, yeah, I get it you���re sorry, just don’t fuck this up. Bucket—I’m telling you. Now, you wanna get high?
Business Types Get a New Kick Out of the 'Bucket' [WSJ]
I made my bucket into a gravity bong [Wikipedia]


Harvard Business School Alum Has A 4-Point Plan For Fixing The Election Process In The United States

On November 6, 2012, as the results of the presidential election rolled in, a member of the Harvard Business School Class of 2010 considered ending it all. "The thought crossed my mind to jump off my penthouse apartment balcony," he wrote his fellow classmates yesterday. Sure, he had a lot to live for: friends, family, the earthly delights afforded to him by living in Southern California ("surfing, mountains, 78 degree sunshine, and hot babes everywhere"), as well as a new company and all that came with it (relationships with celebrities that straddle the line between "friend and service provider," as well as invites to "the VMAs and private concerts in Vegas"). But he also had a lot of reasons to be good and angry at the world, including but not limited to: the state of California being "filled with so many hippie liberals" he just might snap and in doing so "choke out a street bum," people who "sit around with their hand out and expect to be fed," and, most vexingly, the reelection of Barack Obama. And while he did not in fact end up leaping from his penthouse balcony apartment that night, make no mistake, he was and is exceedingly pissed about the direction this country is going, which is south on the Pacific Coast Highway right straight to hell. And whereas the endless stream of bums and hobos and hippies he encounters each and every day the second he steps out of his penthouse apartment probably would take the easy way out, because that's what they do, he's better than that. So instead, he went to bed, got up, sat down at his computer and channeled his anger into something productive: a list of suggestions for how we can get America back on track and in four years, rest it from the hands of the commie holding it hostage, like forcing candidates to use bullet points and telling people who don't believe in capitalism to pack their shit because in 20 minutes a van is coming to ship their non-contributing zero asses off to a country where it's not actually a "privilege" to live. First, though, some life updates, because it really has been too long.