If you have to read the instructions it’s your failure not mine. I sleep four hours per week. So many great ideas scuttle through my brain; the only things that relax me are red wine and country music. If knowledge is cargo and we’re the conveyance, then I’m a dump truck and you’re a shot glass. My inventions offer you opportunities to improve your life. You’re likely to squander the benefits on candy, bingo, and pay-per-view television. None of those are mine. I simply didn’t have the time.
Who shot J.R. is not a mystery. What happened to Jimmy Hoffa is not a mystery. The fall of the Mayans is not a mystery. The dinosaurs’ extinction is not a mystery. Sour cream is not a mystery. A woman’s heart is not a mystery. Life is not a mystery. Death is not a mystery.
The secret to composing successful pop music hits may be rationalized mathematically. Conversely, failed songs result from tone deafness and shitty lyrics. In order to create anything of value we must destroy it. Engineering has its own rewards, which mostly involve destroying stuff. My talent resides in the conception and realization of marketable goods. No one ever said I had to be able to explain the features and benefits. I haven’t experienced direct eye contact with another human being in over thirty years.
(from my blog)