Category: Writing

We don’t notice it, but suddenly things that made sense to us no longer seem to. Our tastes have altered, and now the humors we enjoyed no longer seem as funny. The thrills we sought now might feel too dangerous. The decisions we made no longer seem the best course of action.

But what is it that’s changing? We’re basically the same, biologically speaking. Over the course of a few years, thoughts and worldview can change drastically. Maybe we stay relatively consistent as to values and morals, but everything else is subject to transformation. Even values and morals can grow and evolve.

Where does this change stem from? The seeming solution is that, the more we weigh situations and past decisions, the more we have that background behind us, the most data we have to conceptualize current situations in light of those past ones. We’re more informed, even if the information is flowing at a subconscious level. Once again, it seems like it comes down to data.

And, as I’ve stated before, the more data one has, the better decisions one can make.

There’s a quietness that we’ve lost, a quietness that used to carry us through our days. The joys of a good book, a quiet evening, the fireplace and conversation as entertainment for an evening in. Everything is louder now, faster, more complicated, and more dense.

It’s been turned up, and much of it is owing to the speed of information through technology. The instant something happens, it can be transmitted worldwide. But it isn’t just one transmission, and it’s not just one recipient. It gets amplified the longer it goes on, the more hands it passes through.

Information can be turned way up.

We’ve been grappling with information overload for at least the past decade, and still are learning to come to terms with it. The only thing certain is – it doesn’t seem very likely to have a dimmer switch on it.

Each day’s end represents a new beginning. Each cycle will close, opening another.

Sometimes the end is painful. Sometimes we cling to long hopes. But the new, though frightening, can prove to enriching in novel ways.

Decision-making can be said to be a process whereby we choose a) the best option for us or, b) what maybe we perceive to be the best option available. Quite often, however, the optics of choices we make are eschewed.

Choices are based on the information we have available to us at the time. The more information, the more fact, the better the choices we make.

“Great art stretches the taste. It doesn’t follow tastes.” – Steve Jobs

Sometimes it’s possible to know that the piece you’re working on, the design you’re creating, whatever – sometimes you know that it will be well-received. Mostly, though, it’s a huge gamble. The most prepared you can be is looking at it with fresh eyes, and thinking that this is something you’d appreciate.

Universal acceptance is almost non-existent. All creatives inherently know this, and yet when those negative reviews, sometimes scathing, come in, it feels like a personal defeat. One negative review can outshine a hundred positive ones.

And there are times when the art comes to early, only to be appreciated later. Look at Van Gogh, whose success during his lifetime was virtually non-existent. A popular anecdote is that he only sold one painting in his lifetime, though it has been revealed that it’s an exaggeration.

But, ultimately, you’re creating for the sake of creating. It may be commercially successful, or it may not. But when you have something that has to be given to the world, the only thing that you really can do is create it.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any stranger, the country takes another step towards… I don’t know, anarchy? Divisiveness, at the very least. And so, we’re left to pick up pieces in such a way that we have to be careful how we handle them – they are still fragile, and it could break even more egregiously.

The nation, this democracy, is an experiment, one that generations have believed in and worked towards perfecting. There is no claim to perfection, of course, but the attempts can be made, and appreciated.

I like the words of Nebraska Senator Ben Sasse: “When something’s ugly, talking about beauty isn’t just permissible, it’s obligatory.”

The belief I have, and that we all should have, is that next week will be better. And we can work to make it so.

There are some injuries that are so insignificant that you can go about your day without any detriment. Some require immediate attention. And there is a bevy of possible outcomes from one extreme to the other.

Knowing when help is needed is paramount. Some injuries just won’t heal on their own. And they can be physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual.

It’s never wrong to ask for help if you need it. Just don’t wait too long, or help may be impossible to provide.

I wrote last week about the commonplace book, and writing out passages that mean something. Here’s the one I referenced:

“…and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones are are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a common place thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center light pop and everybody goes, ‘Aaaww.'” – Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Right then, it was likely about wanting to live a life like that of Neal Cassidy. To be “mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time.” And as I think on it now, nearly nine years after that reading, I wonder exactly how far I’ve progressed, and how much distance I’ve actually given up.

I like my Kindle. The lightweight device is superior to reading the iPad because, when I’m reading in bed (I know, you’re not supposed to read in bed, but even I have my vices), if I fall asleep, the Kindle hitting me in the face is a lot lighter than the iPad.

But, I like the physical presence of a book. I remember Giles in the tv show Buffy the Vampire Slayer saying that he “like the smell.” I think he was saying he was distrustful of computers which, in the 1990s, wasn’t too uncommon a complaint.

This goes back a long time, though. Lord Byron, in a passionate plea to the House of Commons in the early nineteenth century, sided with the Luddites opposing the use of mechanical looms. New technology is often scary, even in olden times.

I’m fairly confident we had an election back in November. No, I distinctly recall voting. And yet, there’s the runoff election in Georgia tomorrow (“Can’t wait to stop seeing political ads,” said every Georgian everywhere), a cacophonous Senate where members are still plotting to overturn election results, and a President who will not go gently, raging against not only the light, but just about everything.

And I thought it was exhausting in the months leading up to November.

What the vast majority of us know about politics comes from history and civics classes we took in grade school, dramatic programming like The West Wing, Designated Survivor, or House of Cards, and watching our politicians interact on the media stage. In 1979, Al Gore posited that “Television will change this institution, Mr. Speaker, just as it has changed the executive branch. But the good will far outweigh the bad.”

An while there may be some question as to how bad it’s gotten, there is an argument to be made for it based on the shear volume of political coverage. But maybe that in itself is an issue. With so much coverage, so many talking heads issuing their opinions on the topics, maybe we’re faced with a viewership fatigue – much like the poor residents in Georgia must be feeling over the onslaught of political ads.