No Wife, No Horse, No Mustache

origami unicorn
Innovation demigods, IDEO, have available for purchase these jaunty “method cards”. We bought some from the fine folks here at William Stout Architectural Books. We shipped ground—because our CFO is just like that—and we waited.
When they arrived, I took a third of the deck and divided the remaining between Steve and Ben. We thumbed through the cards, nodding and occasionally shifting our weight from one foot to the other. Perhaps it was the 11am sun reflecting off the mirrors that cover every surface in Ben’s cube, or even all the Sangria from breakfast; but whatever the reason, we were rather shocked to discover these.
Ben soberly suggested they were simply misprints. Obviously, this was met with derision. Steve and I had quickly recognized them for what they are; origami unicorns—clues alluding to the presence of a higher concept. What is IDEO trying to tell us here? We know they’ve worked with some of the biggest companies around, and even the government. Have we been chosen for enlightenment? Is there a handshake we need to learn? Please help us make sense of these cards. Maybe an IDEO adept (preferably like a 33-degree-er with access to this kind of knowledge) can give us some more information. I, for one, feel like I’m finally seeing the fnords.

4 thoughts on “No Wife, No Horse, No Mustache

  1. Eliot,
    As much as we’d like to fess up to an origami unicorn moment, the three jumbled cards are nothing more than unfortunate misprints. The printer blamed a running sheet in the bindery, which, in my mind, means we can still fairly chalk it up to a little wabi-sabi. But above all, apologies. It’s the first case we’ve seen. We’ll be mailing you a new box this week. Keep the three imperfect cards close–we’d still like to think they have some kind of lucky portance. Thanks for your good blog work.
    Kind regards,
    Brenda Natoli
    Marketing Editor

  2. It also anagrams to “a bad ol intern” so I’d be eyeing Ben suspiciously if I were you …

  3. My cover is blown. My days of thwarting ideation products are over. Alas, I must now begin a new reign of confusion. That’s right … it’s time to go post-op.

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