I started a poem in my dream. I worked and worked through the rigorous process as I do in the day, felt the thrill of seeing the words come together. I wrote a real poem in my sleep – actually, a pretty good one. And then I — WOKE. I surfaced tired from all that thinking and by the time the grogginess had lifted, I’d lost the precious fruit of my labor to the daylight. It would’ve been too late to snatch it, preserve it, even with my blog book on hand. Aughhh. How do I take the notebook into sleep with me?
Samsung, Dell, Apple: Here, your next patent idea. I want 30%.