How Many Hands Did She Shake?

Eary stage VC's must make investments decisions with very little information. No wonder that barely half our investments turn a profit.

Here's a question I have often asked aspiring VC's to see if they persist in the face of seemingly incomplete information...

My wife and I went to a dinner party with four other couples. At the beginning of the party, some people shook hands. (Obviously, no one shook his or her own hand or spouse's hand, and no one shook hands with the same person twice.) During the party I surveyed all the other people as to how many hands each one shook. I got different answers from everyone. What did my wife say?

If the aspiring VC gives up on this solvable problem, I don't see how he or she will face down the much murkier puzzle of predicting a startup's success.

Update: The solution is presented visually in a nice way here.

More Wormholes by the Day

Since my post on the Wormhole Factory, Netli has continued to grow unabated... Motorola, T.I., Samsung, Boeing, Ingram, SAP and Nokia are just some of the companies who have recently hyper-jumped onto Netli's warp speed internet. In fact one of them reported to us this week that Netli's elimination of application latency has increased their site usage by 200%!

Kansas School Board More Religious Than Vatican

When a senior Vatican priest says "Oh, c'mon now, you're taking the Bible just a little too seriously," you know you're not in Kansas anymore.

Even the Catholic World News confirms the widespread reports that "Vatican Astronomer Rips Intelligent Design Theory."

Nov. 18 (CWNews.com) - The director of the Vatican Observatory has lashed out at proponents of the theory of Intelligent Design, the Italian news service ANSA reports.


"Intelligent design isn't science, even if it pretends to be," said Father George Coyne. He said that if the theory is introduced in schools, it should be taught in religion classes, not science classes.

So now that that Kansas School Board has crippled their science curriculum, they're moving on to other critical subjects. According to The Kansas City Star, the Board intends to restrict sex education classes to students whose parents specifically demand them, in writing (eventually resulting in, I fear, more Kansans). As for literature, the Board's Chairman Steve Abrams has been aggressively advocating the banishment of "pornography" in schools, such as the novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. [Insert your own quip here regarding Abrams and the Cuckoo's Nest.]

Review Your Doctor, Find a New One

Healthia is beta-testing its new doctor search and review feature. I invite you all to please try it out--it's actually quite satisfying to publish your doctor's foibles (or worse)!

(Healthia is the Consumer Driven Healthcare startup I announced earlier.)

Amendment to Post: The Healthia beta site has now added consumer reviews of health plans.

How To NOT Write A Business Plan

Entrepreneurs often ask me for a sample business plan they can use as a model for their fundraising efforts. They are surprised when I send them a powerpoint file.

It's always a good idea to put down on paper your plans for the business, so that your team can build consensus around objectives and metrics. Make it as thick and wordy as you like (though show some restraint--over-modeling the future only wastes your time). I'm sure that Brad Feld's upcoming series on business plans will become the authoritative online reference for this kind of internal operating document.

But my advice is to never send a document like that to a VC.

Keep in mind that you are not alone--entrepreneurship is thriving around the world. In fact, we assess about 100 times as many investment opportunities as we fund, so as everyone knows, it's hard to get a VC's attention. It's not exactly true that all VC's are stupid (not exactly), but we do not have the luxury of an attention span. Drop a thick document on a VC, and it will, wrapped in good intentions, go straight to The Pile.

The Pile is a dark, evil tower--impervious to attack--that looms over every VC's desk. My Pile, like many, is constructed out of business plans, white papers, analyst reports and scientific journals, waiting to be read with quiet thought and deliberation... Who Has Time For This? My only opportunity to curb the Pile's growth is airline travel, where I have some downtime to chip away at it (that is, until I can email and Skype using on-board WiFi). You'd think that with the recent surge of VC activity in Asia, we'd really have time to work down our Piles, but instead our Piles only grow taller, fortified by new material imported from China and India.

That's why nothing slows down a VC as much as a comprehensive business plan. Powerpoint presentations, in contrast, can be quickly emailed and skimmed, eliciting much faster indications of whether there is a fit. And if there is a fit, the VC will have an easier time educating the firm about the opportunity. So powerpoint plans greatly increase your chance of getting a term sheet, or at least the dignity of a quick No.

I was first exposed to this notion in 1995 by a super smart CEO, whose name I regretfully forget. His company (Eo Networks, I think) developed fiber termination units optimized for rural networks. He was walking me through his slides, and when I asked him for his business plan, he pointed to the laptop, looked me in the eye, and said, "this is my business plan." I thought, What? Oh. Okay.

So here are my specific tips on constructing a business plan...

Your presentation should not exceed 10 slides. The appendix can include as many slides as you want. The more the better. Nothing beats responding to some VC's question with a slide from the appendix. Sales productivity? Here are the historical numbers. The competitor's software? Here's a screenshot. Most operating details will remain safely ensconced in the appendix, eliminating unnecessary friction in the presentation.

You might structure the 10 slides as follows:

1. The cover slide should offer complete contact info, and a tagline if you've got it. One of the benefits of a powerpoint plan is that it forces you to perform the critical exercise of describing the business in very few words.

2. A mission statement is a good idea to present, unless it's rather obvious from the tagline (as in BlueNile.com: Education, Guidance, Diamonds and Fine Jewelry). Select a mission statement that is achievable, but not yet achieved. Bad mission statements:

"To create the world's largest software company." [too broad and unrealistic to practically guide decision-making]

"To develop the world's best technology for defending DNS servers from worm attacks." [er, you said you've already done that, right? Mission accomplished!]

A clear mission statement also includes a clear idea of what the startup will NOT do. Here are some nice ones...

"Healthia will operate America's most widely used comparison shopping portal for consumer driven healthcare, enabling businesses and their employees to choose health plans, ancillary health benefits, and medical services objectively and transparently."

"Prolexic will create and dominate a new network service category that defends web applications from distributed-denial-of-service attacks."

Sometimes the white space on the slide is filled with customer logos or testimonials.

3. Introduce the team. On one slide, highlight the backgrounds of the key members of the team, and any directors or advisors (not too many) who bring something special to the startup. Explain verbally whom you intend to add to the team in the next year. (If that includes a CEO, say so up front, without waiting to be asked.)

4. Without yet getting into your product or service, describe the nature of the problem you address. Emphasize the pain level and the inability of incumbents to satisfy the need.

5. Introduce your product, and the benefits (which should obviously address the market problem you just described).

6. Elaborate on the technology or methodology you have developed to enable your unique approach. If appropriate, mention patent status.

7. Show off early customer or distribution progress: numbers, logos, testimonials.

8. Sales strategy. Show the expected cost of customer acquisition.

9. Competitive landscape. Be sure to anticipate competitive responses (before the VC does), and never deny that you have competitors, no matter how unique you think you are. Really, it's okay to compete. Even against Microsoft (as Flock will prove).

This is also a good slide on which to show market size estimates.

10. Earnings Statement, historical and forecast. For each time period, add headcount and cash balance. It should be clear how you expect the company to perform top line and bottom line three years out, and how much capital will be required now and later. Prepare lots of backup slides to illustrate the assumptions behind these financials.

Okay, so you might need an 11th or even 12th slide to cover all the financials, to describe the follow-on businesses that may arise, or to provide a timeline if you have a complex product road map.

Ideally, find the opportunity to walk the VC through your powerpoint plan in person, or at least by phone. If not, at least find a mutual friend to persuade the VC to review the powerpoint on his or her own.

If it's helpful, comment on this post with a link to a powerpoint plan that you have crafted along these guidelines--I'd be happy to publicly critique one such powerpoint, and others might weigh in, too.

Update: Before presenting your pitch, be sure to read Boris' tips. Also, here is advice from Matt Cutler that marries my tips with those of Brad and Guy.

What I Learned From Smart People I Met Last Week

Walt Mossberg (at Dow Jones Conference): Schwarzenegger is nuts to pick on nurses...the dam has broken on downloadable prime time TV.... Apple's on fire, but Dell fell... Can Google overcome the "arrogance of the engineer"? ...Microsoft Xbox360 was designed in Redmond on 3,000 Macs!


Harvard University President Larry Summers: Despite his personal distaste for Intelligent Design, the academic icon dodged my challenge to position the university squarely on the side of Science, since (he said in more diplomatic words) Harvard still serves the Red States. (So there's plenty of time left on the Divinity School's lease.)



Jimmy Wales: Wikipedia today serves billions of impressions per month. This precursor to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy enjoys broader reach than the New York Times, the LA Times, the Wall Street Journal, MSNBC.com and the Chicago Tribue... combined. If you haven't yet contributed to this corpus of the human intellect, you're missing a thrill.






Jesse Andrews (Book Burro author, hosts UserScripts.Org): GreaseMonkey still exposes desktops to many vulnerabilities--not yet for the faint of heart, but maybe in Firefox 2?

Peace Rally Triggers Memory

I saw a news report today that reminded me where I was exactly 10 years ago.

That was the Saturday afternoon that Nathalie and I found ourselves in a traffic jam in downtown Tel Aviv. Sirens blared all around us as we inched our way to our hotel, only to learn in the lobby that an hour earlier, at a peace rally two blocks away, Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin had been shot. By the time we checked into our room, Rabin died on the operating table. This moment was every bit as horrible for Israel as the assasination of John F. Kennedy was for America.

Yitzhak Rabin (יצחק רבין), a native Israeli, fought in the Israeli Independence War, and then, as Chief of Staff, defended Israel in the 1967 Six Day War to a stunning victory. As Prime Minister in 1976, Rabin boldly mandated Operation Entebbe, a spectacular raid of Idi Amin's fortified airport in which commandos rescued 100 hijacked Jewish airline passengers (as well as the entire Air France flight crew that courageously declined to be set free so long as any of their passengers were captive).

But Rabin showed his true courage in his second term as Prime Minister, during which he recognized the PLO, signed the Olso Peace Accord, and reached an historic peace treaty with Jordan. For this, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. For the first time in this little nation's history, hope grew that Israel might finally live in peace with her neighbors, released from the constant threat of annihilation. For a society with mandatory and truly dangerous army service, Rabin promised the young generation a chance to strive for something beyond mere survival.

Nathalie and I wandered down to the Kings of Israel Square--the site of the assasination--where people wandered, dumbstruck. We felt ourselves drawn to the crowd, feeling the reflections of their pain.

The next day, we learned that the assasin was a reactionary, fundamentalist Jew enraged by Rabin's intention to negotiate peace with the Palestinians. So what? Who cares what kind of maniac pulled the trigger? It mattered to Nathalie and me. It propelled our growing realization that all flavors of religious fundamentalism (not just the Muslim flavor) destroy life and liberty.

The day after that, world leaders flew in to attend the Nobel Laureate's funeral. Nathalie and I joined the crowds in an unplanned procession through the streets of Jerusalem, winding our way to the national cemetary, where hundreds of thousands held vigil. When sirens signalled the moment of silence, all traffic in Israel stopped, and every person froze.

Kings of Israel Square was renamed Yitzhak Rabin Square. For the remainder of the week, people gathered there every evening, all night. No one fired shots into the air, and no one called for vengeance against "enemies" of any kind. We sang songs of peace around lit candles, to mourn the loss of a true leader.

Since Rabin, prime ministers have tried and failed to revive the peace process. But even from the grave, Yitzhak Rabin promises hope. This week, 200,000 Israelis held a peace rally in his memory. How wonderful that Israel's next election promises a race between Likud's Sharon, who is moving slowly toward peace, and Labor's Peretz, who wants to move there quickly.

I found this photo, below, that I took the night after the Prime Minister's death. The artist had impromptu picked a wall in the square on which Nathalie and I watched him paint his memory of Rabin. I hope this image remains there today.

Grammar Nerds

This is actually a post that I had drafted some time ago, but never published because I couldn't muster the courage... until today, when MetroDad inspired me by coming clean as a grammar nerd.

Hello. My name is David, and I am a Grammar Nerd.

It started as a child, when my big sister Alison graciously offered to edit the articles I had drafted for my school newspaper (my sisters taught me 80% of everything I learned before college). Unfortunately, Alison's journalistic talents failed to rub off on me, but I easily absorbed the more mathematical elements of her English writing lessons--the rules of grammar. I suppose I got carried away, having failed to appreciate how unusually high a bar my sister had set for me (she hadn't yet become the star New York Times investigative reporter that she is today). Further compelled by a rather unhealthy obsession to score 800 on my English Achievement Exam, I proceeded to master English linguistics, naively overestimating the necessity, utility, and appeal of perfect grammar. Sadly, proper usage of the subjunctive tense (e.g. "If I Were A Rich Man...") never scored me a date.

Today I resign myself to the chronic nature of my disorder. I recognize grammatical mistakes in every conversation, and in most things that I read (except, of course, Alison's articles). The errors jar me. In fact, if you wish to hurt me, mis-conjugate the form of be, conjoin unparallel syntactic elements, or apply participial phrases to the object of a sentence (as in, "Filled with bad gas, he drove his car despite the knocking sound").

But no linguistic offense grates me more than hypercorrection--the growing epidemic of grammatical errors motivated by desire to flaunt superior English proficiency. Some examples of hypercorrection have proved particularly contagious:

"They met with Fred and I for an hour."

You wouldn't say that they met with I, so why say that they met with Fred and I? The misuse of subjective pronouns following prepositions is the most common hypercorrection.

"I need to pay whomever went shopping for us."

The less pretentious "whoever" is actually correct here. This one's a little confusing because, indeed, it is obviously fine to say "I need to pay him." But the object of the sentence is more than just "whomever" so the proper substitution is: "I need to pay he who went shopping for us."

"Are you still feeling badly today?"
"No, I'm feeling good, thank you."

The question, not the answer, is incorrect. We use adjectives, not adverbs, to describe the subjects of sentences with linking verbs (e.g. be, seem, taste, feel, smell, look). If you feel bad, then you are ill, but if you feel badly, then you are just numb.

If you share my affliction, I offer only one message of consolation: it's okay to correct my grammar--I actually like it!

But if you're not like me, you have probably concluded by now that I am just an asshole. You see my problem here. As a venture capitalist, I've already got two strikes against me, and grammatical snobbery hardly helps!

Picked Up in the Blogosphere...

Some treasures I have found recently through blogging...

Findory. Greg Linden, architect of Amazon's personalization engine, challenged my post Saving Serendipity with a comment that led me to his startup. Findory personalizes news and blogs, which I now feed into my RSS reader (okay, I confess I still use My Yahoo), so news gets better every day. In fact, I have replaced the useless "Archives" section in this blog's sidebar with a window into the some of the news generated for my profile. Findory will have to innovate fast, though, to keep up with some new, stealthy challengers coming to market...

Nivi. Babak Nivi, an MIT Media Lab graduate, has attracted a strong following for his insightful blog on new technology ventures (now on my blogroll). I found Nivi through his blog and, I'm pleased to report, recruited him to Bessemer as an EIR. (He's much, much smarter than he looks.) Check out his web-based voice mail app Slawesome.

Browster. In case you haven't tried this pre-fetching and content previewing plug-in, check it out. It really speeds up the web experience, and enables you to examine web content more deeply than you otherwise would.

Genius Architect, as posted. I actually found two!

Slippers with Headlights, thanks to an anonymous commenter on my post First VC Blog in India. These babies safely light my way to the bathroom at night.

Heracles' Marathon to Olympus, Athena Awaits

For lack of fresh content, I offer an old, true, personal anecdote--a rerun, I guess, of the blog I would have written had the web existed. Warning: don't expect a happy ending.

Friday May 31, 1991: B-school summer break begins. My plan is to catch up with my fiancee, Nathalie, who has been backpacking around Europe. We haven't had phone access for 4 weeks but our plan is set: she is picking me up tomorrow morning at Athens airport, where we grab a bus to Brendizi and a ferry to Mykonos for two weeks in the Greek islands, and a weekend in Rome (before slutting myself out to a consulting firm for the summer). This is the vacation we've anticipated for years.

11:30 am

I arrive by cab at Boston Logan Airport, weighed down by my carry-ons and two full, heavy, non-rolling suitcases (one for Nathalie). No problem, only a few dozen yards to the check-in counter...

11:45 am

I'm checking in, quite proud of myself for being uncharacteristically early to my United 1:30pm flight to Athens (with a stop in Dulles Airport). As the United agent hands me back my passport, she asks, "oh, it's still valid right?"

"Of course" I say, with so much confidence that I volunteer the passport back for her to inspect herself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, your passport expired yesterday." That's right--it was exactly 10 years AND A DAY ago that this passport had been issued.

"What? Yesterday? Let me see that. Oh, no. Hehe, okay so what do I have to do here?"

"Well, I can check availability on flights for late next week if you think you can get an emergency replacement issued by then."

"Next week? No, no, no, I have to go today. You don't understand--my fiancee is there waiting for me, I can't reach her, and we have these ferry tickets--"

"Well I can tell you," she offers, in a genuinely helpful tone, "that you're not going on today's flight to Greece."

"But I HAVE to. Is there a supervisor I can talk to, or a passport office somewhere around here?" Apparently not, she insists, while starting to look at the next passenger in line. I can see I am about to lose her attention, so I get in one last question: "Are there any other flights to Athens today?"

"Let's see... the only other one today is an American Airlines flight that leaves here at 2:15pm. Next!"

I can only imagine how disappointed, worried (and eventually pissed) Nathalie will be when I don't get off that plane in Athens. I had promised this time to her, and we have non-refundable ferry tickets and hotel reservations. More importantly, I have all her clean clothes with me!

This is a major screw up. There is no way to talk my way onto that plane. My heart rate speeds up and nausea sweeps over me as I realize that I can't even call Nathalie to tell her (no cell phones back then). But I can't just sit around and count down the minutes to 2:15pm. I resolve that until both planes physically depart Boston, I'm going to exhaust every possible option of boarding one of those two flights.

So I lug all my baggage out to the taxi line.

12:06 pm

I get a taxicab and ask, "is there a passport office in the Tip O'Neill building downtown?"

"I suppose so," he responds, considering whether to resent the implication that all cab drivers must be immigrants intimately familiar with INS facilities.

"Please take me there as fast as you can."

"Sure. Why the rush? Are you planning on flying somewhere next week?"

"No, this afternoon at 2:15."

"Whoaa. You're never going to make THAT flight."

"Please, just drive as fast as you can."


12:20 pm

I spring from the cab (as much as one can spring while lugging 2 heavy suitcases and carry-ons) and wind my way through the Tip O'Neill building until I find the Passport office (of course, it's up two flights of stairs). I run in, and see before me a long, long line of people standing there with newspapers and snacks, apparently settled in for the wait. This looks bad.

"Excuse me, everyone! I'm sorry to bother you all but I HAVE to catch a flight today to Greece where my fiance is waiting for me, and so I desperately need a passport right away. Is there anyone here who would mind if I went to the front of the line?" Pathetic as I looked, everyone shrugged as if to say Okay, but you're dreaming if you think you're going to make it.

12:28 pm

"Please, I need to get a replacement passport immediately--my old passport expired only yesterday, and I have a flight this afternoon at 2:15, and my fiancee is waiting for me there, and I have no way to reach her, and..." I can see that the INS clerk standing before me thinks I'm quite an idiot.

"Well, you're not going to make that flight today. I can't just issue you a passport like that. An emergency passport takes 24 hours, and tomorrow's Saturday, so possibly on Tuesday."

"Oh, please, isn't there anything you can do?"

"Sir, even if I wanted to, you don't have a passport photo."

"Photo? Where do I get a photo?" I ask, looking around the room, as if.

12:32 pm

With a bit less spring in my step, I lug the baggage down the stairs, and wander the streets looking for passport photos.

12:41 pm

A locksmith two blocks from Government Center advertises Passport Photos in the window.

"Please, I need a passport photo RIGHT away."

"Sure, but what's the rush? When are you travelling?"

"Hopefully, this afternoon."

"And you don't have your passport? You're NEVER going to make THAT flight."


1:03 pm

Once again I ascend the stairs with all my baggage, clutching the ugliest Polaroid head shot I've ever seen of a sweaty, harried, soon-to-be-single-again traveller. Inside the passport office, the same people are still standing in line, right where I had left them.

"Excuse me, everyone--"

"Yeah, yeah, just go."

1:11 pm

"Here, maam, I have a passport photo now. Please, I really need to make that flight today."

"I'm sorry, but it does take one business day. Maybe you can take a Tuesday flight."

"Could you just PLEASE talk to your supervisors back there and see if there's any way you can make an exception?"

"Well, allright, have a seat. But don't expect much."

1:15 pm

I sit down and catch my breath. I watch the clock as each minute ticks by (to this day I remember every detail of that clock face).

1:20 pm

I know now that I have missed any chance of boarding my 1:30pm United flight, but I still harbor hope of buying a ticket on that 2:15 American flight. I wonder how I'm going to afford the full fare one-way ticket.

1:50 pm

Half an hour later, it isn't looking good...

1:56 pm

"David Cowan?"

I bounce up to the counter and see before me a shiny new US Passport! "THANK YOU!!"

I spill down the stairs with all my baggage, into the street, in search of a cab.

1:59 pm

I say to the cabbie, "Airport, as fast as you can!"

"What time's your flight?"

"2:15"

"You're never going to--"

"Yeah, yeah, just drive!"

2:12 pm

I rush into the American terminal (as much as one can rush lugging my own weight in summerwear and books) and make a dash for the gate, clumsily pushing through the security check point.

2:17 pm

I arrive at the gate. There is the plane, ALREADY PUSHING OFF, with the doors closed and no one around to hear my pleas.

I collapse upon my suitcase, defeat washing over me. All that's left to do is to wallow in self-loathing and pity.

But... but... wait a minute. My original 1:30 flight has a one-hour stop in Dulles, right? I check my itinerary and see that it is scheduled to leave Dulles at 4:05pm.

2:20 pm

I'm talking to the first airlines employee I can find. "Please, are there are any flights anywhere in this airport leaving right now for Dulles Airport?"

"Hmmm. Let's see. There's one at--no, that's tomorrow. Let's see. Let's see. There's a Delta commuter flight that leaves at 2:26, but you're never going to make--"

And there I am, literally sprinting out of the gate, off to Delta. I wobble with my suitcases down the long corridors to the very back suburbs of the airport where commuter flights gather.

2:25 pm

"Please, please I need to buy a ticket on the flight to Dulles." I'm waving my credit card around, and trying not to draw attention to the four bags I'm lugging.

"Sorry sir, that flight has already boarded."

"Oh, please, I really need to catch a connection out of Dulles--it's the last one to Greece today, and my fiancee is waiting for me there, and I can't reach her, and..."

I must look really awful by now, because mercy is the only explanation for what happens next... The agent grabs her radio and says "Flight 87, hold for one more passenger."

She swipes my card, and I run down two flights of stairs and outside to the tarmac. The pilot is surprised to see so much baggage showing up at the last minute for his tiny, 14-seater commuter aircraft.

2:52 pm

The flight attendant, hunching over so as not to bump her head, makes one trip down the aisle offering water.

"Excuse me," I say. "Is there any chance that you might be able to ask the pilot to fly faster? I'm trying to catch my flight to Greece."

Fly faster? she almost says, but when she looks into my eyes, she sees my desparation. "What time is your connection?" she asks instead.

"4:05."

She looks at her watch and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, but you're not going to make that flight."

"Right, but could you please just ask?"

She promises she will.

3:58 pm

Delta Express Flight 87 disgorges her passengers into Dulles Airport, 8 minutes early. I run to the terminal's docking station, where you wait for this bus-ish thing to transport you to your terminal.

4:00 pm

I board the bus-ish thing, and we depart.

4:04 pm
We dock at the international terminal. I run, run, run to Gate 33. My heart is pounding, my lungs are bursting, the nerves beneath the baggage shoulder straps screaming for relief.

4:05 pm

I see Gate 33 down the hall! The agent is just getting ready to close the door. "WAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIT!!!!"

She looks up, prepared to be annoyed, but realizes at once that I haven't just been hanging out too long in Duty Free. She props the door open, examines my ticket and shiny new passport, and welcomes me on board, suitcases and all. I made the flight!

Never in my life have I been so happy to get a middle seat. Hot, frazzled, drenched in sweat, heart still pounding, eyes watering, back aching, I just sit there and laugh out loud for a good 10 minutes.


I warned you not to expect a happy ending, but I didn't rule it out, either.
:-)

Maybe Harriet Wasn't So Bad

With President Bush losing support on so many fronts, he has decided it is good enough to simply satisfy his core base of Bible thumpers by nominating a devout, activist Catholic to the Supreme Court. I guess the rest of us can all, literally, go to Hell.

You've read what Samuel Alito will do to Roe v. Wade. But are you familiar with his positions on school prayer? So much for Murray v. Curlett. By the time Alito is done re-uniting church and state, he'll qualify for Time Magazine's Man of the Year.

Here's an anti-Alito petition drive where you can donate your John Hancock and maybe a few Abraham Lincolns.