My new home

Greetings everybody.

This week I'm rolling out my new website, which, unsurprisingly, may be found at stanleybing.com. I've missed talking to you every day (well, almost every day) and look forward to continuing my dialogue with you over at Bing's new second home.

This week on stanleybing.com, I'm all in a swivet about the Royal Wedding. My invitation seems to have been lost in the mail, but I'm not going to let that stop MORE

Diary of a mad iPad

I can give up Angry Birds whenever I like. I just haven't found a good reason to.

"You've got to stop playing that game," said my wife.

"Bah," I said.

"I think you're turning into an Angry Bird," she said.

"Bwee!" I replied. I kicked the dog and headed to the office.

I suppose there are some idiots out there who don't know about Angry Birds. As far as I'm concerned, it's the only reason MORE

Snow day

Which takes more bravery? Going to work in spite of the weather, or staying home in spite of the scorn?

Oh, lord.  Snowing again. Trains will be a mess. Buses will fail to appear. Bob will be in, though. Bob is always in. Bob lives a quarter-mile from the office in a penthouse the size of Versailles and is driven to work in a carriage drawn by Lipizzaners -- why shouldn't MORE

Killer apps I'd like 2C

New tools for people who are bored by those long, rambling messages on Twitter.

I read an article about how young people no longer e-mail, preferring to text to each other short little messages understandable only by those who text short little messages to each other. The burden of formulating sentences seems to be too much for them. This rang true. Several times over the past year I've sent e-mail to MORE

Playing hurt

Being a little under the weather didn't keep me from attending the Board dinner. So they tell me, anyway.

Sunday, 8 a.m. Woke with the ever-so-tiniest trickle of something itchy in the back of my throat. "Oh, Lord," I said to my wife. "I don't want to be sick. Not with all that's going on this week. Please, God. Don't let me be sick." "Are you sick?" she asked me. "No," MORE

Is it time to invest again?

Now that order and sanity have returned to the market, it's hard to imagine how anything could go wrong.

I was sitting around the bunkhouse with a bunch of wealthy capitalists the other day, and we all agreed that the time was right for bigtime reinvestment. As one of them put it, "The economy is back. It's time to take intelligent risks again and make some friggin' money." I have been MORE

The big yawn

Things we'll all be tired of in about 20 minutes

Marketing is the death of the new. It has its purposes in this culture, where if something is not available for sale and distribution, it has no inherent meaning. Marketing hoists objects and activities out of the realm of the personal and into the public sphere -- quite literally into the marketplace, a location that used to be physical but is MORE

Class struggle

Writing a check for a soccer uniform, I thought, Gee, when I was a kid, my school had money for that.

Most of the time I feel okay with the way things are going. I'm not part of the half of our nation that seems to think everything is heading to hell in a handcart. But sometimes I get grossed out by wild discrepancies. A sense of dislocation overwhelms me, and MORE

It stinks to be CEO

It's time for a new breed of chief executive. I have a proposal.

There are really terrible jobs in the world. President of the United States comes to mind. Maybe once it was okay, but now? Where's the fun in it? It doesn't pay half enough. Everybody's out to move your cheese. Even higher on the list of things you probably never want to do when you grow up, however, is MORE

How Wall Street Is Screwing Up The Recovery

I had to laugh the other day at the way the Market is behaving, but it wasn't a good laugh.  It was one of those dark laughs, full of phlegm and bile, a laugh that dies in the back of your throat, turning before it fades away entirely into a short, sharp growl.

One day up. Two days up. Then down, down 150 or 200 points.  It's like psychoanalysis. Two steps forward. MORE