Dear 43 Things Users,

10 years after introducing 43 Things to the world, we have decided we have met our last goal: completing the incredible experience that has been 43 Things. Please join us in giving one last cheer to all the folks who have shared their goals with the world, as well as all the people who have worked at The Robot Co-op to build this incredible website. We won a Webby Award, published a book, and brought happiness to a lot of people.

Starting today, 43 Things users can export their goals and entries from the site. Starting August 15, we will make the site “read only”. 43 Things users will still be able to view the site and export their content, but we won’t be taking any new content from users. We hope to leave the site up for folks to see and download their content until the end of the year. Ending on New Year’s Eve takes us full circle.

It has been a long ride (one of our original goals was to "build a company that lasts at least 2 years” - we beat that one!) While we wish the site could live on, it has suffered from a number of challenges - changes in how people use the site, the advertising industry, and how search engines view the site. We wish the outcome was different – but we’ve always been realistic about when our goals are met and when they aren't.

As of today, you will be able to download your goals and entries. See more about that on the FAQ page. Thanks for 10 great years of goal-setting and achieving.

- The Robots.

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FaustusDirty word...

An innocent
slip of the tongue
turns an innocent word
into a dirty one,
a word none of the dirty boys know
but the innocent teacher does.

He mumbles, “well,
that’s not a good word to say”
he hesitates for a brief moment
and moves on to the next student.

When the hour and half
of the Arabic class is over,
noisy boys are out of the class
before they can hear
next week’s assignment.

But this time around
instead of the school yard
they flood the library…
few forces are stronger
than genuine curiosity

The library boy suspects something
from the sudden popularity
of school’s Arabic dictionary;
he approaches smoothly
and the crowd scatters quietly
only a few stay,
convinced of their innocence

“Give me your names”
we tell him ours
He doesn’t check if
those are real names.
He knows they are,
and we are convinced
he is not going to
cause any harm.

He is all right
like any other
library boy 5 months ago


FaustusTeacher's name

“Rooster-fog”
that’s what we heard, my cousin and I,
When our teacher
Introduced herself

“Are you sure?”
My uncle asked
And my aunt,
And my mom,
And my dad,
In that order.

“She said so,” we said,
Convinced, detached.
It was just a name
anyaway, after all.

It was just a name
But not her name.
It took us a week
To get it right.

Dad is forgiving
(Or forgetful),
But my uncle now
Wins every debate 11 months ago


DayDreamer37 17 months ago


FaustusSuspension...

Dad taught high-school… he studied psychology, but math was his thing, so he taught math. He was a little inclined to the left, as many of the youth in his age were, but he managed to stay clear of trouble during the revolution. A few years after the revolution, not sure exactly what, but he mentioned something about communities and working together, and some student did the country a favor by reporting him to the authorities during the “cultural revolution” wave.

I remember dad and my uncle, his lawyer brother, sitting at the dining table; dad quiet, uncle talking, words about not being responsible and getting suspended. The 5-year old me overheard these, and imagined his dad floating in a glass tank of bluish goo, somewhere between the earth and sky.

Dad traded his ‘74 BMW for an old truck; he liked the car, you could tell… purple-colored 2002, with huge bumpers that were supposed to protect it, and they did for the most part, as he crashed the car into stuff every now and then. He still jokes and makes an impression of me, when I was 3, riding the car with him, and he crashed the car into a taxi: “Look what you have done!” :) The car may have been a display of his youth, the playfulness that has never left him, not even now. He traded the car for a truck and delivered goods from one factory to another… street lamps, metal rods, anything. One of his friends, offering him a little money on the side, would give him electric kettles to put together. Mom and dad would spread the pieces in the living room and put kettles together, one after another… the numbers mattered. My sister and I would sometimes join in, racing to see who could put one together faster. “Don’t screw it too hard… it’ll crack the body, and won’t stop the leak any better.”

So a few years went by, until nobody could remember why he wasn’t teaching. Someone in charge thought it would be a great idea to make him teach geography… “we don’t have enough geography teachers,” seemed like a reasonable statement. He taught geography until he retired, for almost 20 years. 23 months ago


Faustus 6 years ago


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