Andrea Rosen.

I live and work in New York, New York. You can find me all over the internet, like here, here, or here.



Nice things people have said about me:



"You were deemed 'good to have around.'" -a coworker



"You look like you should be in a catalogue selling Brooklyn." -a roommate



"You think you're a lot funnier than you actually are." -an ex-boyfriend



"Don't put this in your blog." -my mother
As more great new companies are absorbed into big old companies, a whole new generation of change is lost. They can issue press releases saying how excited they are to be able to bring their product to a whole new world of customers, and how their new suitor will bring enormous resources to bear, but we know that’s usually not really what happens. Development slows, products stall, the staff that built the great stuff leaves, and mediocrity creeps in. Not always, but usually.

The next generation bends over (via marco)

OK, OK, I get it, 37 signals. Your model of a small company with a few developers working remotely on a bunch of web apps is the only model that works.

The self-righteousness is nauseating.

(via everythingismedia)

Thank you.

(via mikehudack)

Oh, come on. I only have a peripheral knowledge of 37 Signals, but they’re hardly alone in their grandiosity. Many, many startups are unable to just do their work. They seem to spend equal time preaching about their way of doing work: why their company culture is so nurturing, why their employment of social networks is so innovative, why their business intentions are so altruistic. And why they’re functioning better than your company or some mythic “big old company” is functioning.

I understand wanting to be a part of the dialog about the industry in which you reside, but it strikes me as odd that one of the industry’s biggest supposed successes is better known for his instructionals on productivity than his company’s actual product. Is startup culture’s biggest output just chatter about output?