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Don't Write it Down

Playing devil's advocate, it is easy to find reasons for not writing it down, 'It' being any form of plan or prediction. Plans are useless. Events never unfold according to the plan so all the work that goes into it is wasted. If you write down what you plan to do, those who oppose you can use it against you. It is better to keep it all in your head and only tell people what they need to know. If you put your best thoughts on paper, someone, somewhere in the process could use your ideas for their own ends or sell your plans to competitors. The fewer people know the plan, the less likely it will become known to competitors. When things go wrong, people look for someone to blame. It is human nature. If you write down what is supposed to happen and things go badly, you get the blame.
After all, it's what a person can do as an individual that makes him or her valuable to an organisation. If you write it down, anyone can do it. It takes too long to write everything down and…

But The Suddenly Started Pequod

"Not forged!" and snatching Perth's levelled iron from the crotch, Ahab held it out, exclaiming—"Look ye, Nantucketer; here in this hand I hold his death! Tempered in blood, and tempered by lightning are these barbs; and I swear to temper them triply in that hot place behind the fin, where the White Whale most feels his accursed life!"
"Then God keep thee, old man—see'st thou that"—pointing to the hammock—"I bury but one of five stout men, who were alive only yesterday; but were dead ere night. Only THAT one I bury; the rest were buried before they died; you sail upon their tomb." Then turning to his crew—"Are ye ready there? place the plank then on the rail, and lift the body; so, then—Oh! God"—advancing towards the hammock with uplifted hands—"may the resurrection and the life—"
"Brace forward! Up helm!" cried Ahab like lightning to his men.
But the suddenly started Pequod was not quick enough to escape the sound of the splash that the corpse soon made as it struck the sea; not so quick, indeed, but that some of the flying bubbles might have sprinkled her hull with their ghostly baptism.
As Ahab now glided from the dejected Delight, the strange life-buoy hanging at the Pequod's stern came into conspicuous relief.
"Ha! yonder! look yonder, men!" cried a foreboding voice in her wake. "In vain, oh, ye strangers, ye fly our sad burial; ye but turn us your taffrail to show us your coffin!"

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