Excerpts (though you should read the whole thing) from Paul Graham’s dissection of writes and write-nots:
The reason so many people have trouble writing is that it’s fundamentally difficult. To write well you have to think clearly, and thinking clearly is hard.
And yet writing pervades many jobs, and the more prestigious the job, the more writing it tends to require.
These two powerful opposing forces, the pervasive expectation of writing and the irreducible difficulty of doing it, create enormous pressure.
Not anymore. AI has blown this world open. Almost all pressure to write has dissipated. You can have AI do it for you, both in school and at work.
Is that so bad? Isn’t it common for skills to disappear when technology makes them obsolete? There aren’t many blacksmiths left, and it doesn’t seem to be a problem.
Yes, it’s bad. The reason is something I mentioned earlier: writing is thinking. In fact there’s a kind of thinking that can only be done by writing.
So a world divided into writes and write-nots is more dangerous than it sounds. It will be a world of thinks and think-nots. I know which half I want to be in, and I bet you do too.
Our 5 year old likes to say that a lot when he gets on a roll telling us about something he’s excited about. It could be science facts or recounting a fun outing or his latest playground escapades. He’ll sprinkle it in throughout the story, which shows he’s both excited to share and keen on building some suspense into the telling.
Oh and guess what? It’s so endearing.
Election Day is upon us. My wife and I already voted, and I’m very grateful to live in a state that supports pro-democracy initiatives like early voting, vote by mail, and automatic voter registration. Illinois has its issues, to be sure, but it’s a leader in this regard—along with book ban bans, Midwest abortion access, and other important things for freedom-loving Americans.
We had three non-binding yet nevertheless noteworthy “advisory questions” on the ballot regarding:
Triple yes right there. The last one is especially close to our hearts, having done reproductive treatments for both of our sons that were incredibly costly and not covered by insurance. During that process, I even wrote a letter to our insurance company asking them to cover it and laying out the reasons why it matters to so many people. I held no illusions about anyone with power actually reading it, but I wrote it nevertheless. I hope this advisory question ends up in a Yes landslide that will compel our state legislature to take action for the benefit of all would-be parents in the future.
As for the biggest question on the ballot… I mean, I’ve been extremely clear about my thoughts on Donald Trump and his party over the last decade, and nothing has changed in the last four years. I’m thrilled to vote against him for the third time and fill in the oval for Harris/Walz. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow and in the coming days, but I’m hoping we’ll all be feeling Blue very soon.
More photography here.
Partly cloudy in the Windy City:
Feeling reflective at our park:
Fishing class with the five year old:
First time downtown with the lads:
Enjoying the hotel room balcony at Timber Ridge Lodge:
Burgundy boy blending in with the fallen leaves:
Midnight Mass. Loved this Netflix limited series for the same reason I love Darren Aronofsky’s Noah: it takes literally all the Bible’s very goth elements (“drink my blood”, the terror of angels, etc.) and transposes it into a deeply human modern story.
Didi. This coming-of-age story set in 2008 featuring a teenager only a few years younger than I was at the time, so you know the use of AIM and Motion City Soundtrack songs were a bullseye for me.
Nosferatu. Been knocking off a lot of classic horror blindspots and this 1922 F.W. Murnau silent version definitely qualifies. One favorite intertitle: “The Death Ship has a new captain.” 🤘
Challengers. Just your typical sports movie featuring a throuple of sweaty, smirking scumbags swirling into a sadomasochistic, psychosexual spiral.
Fear Not!: A Christian Appreciation of Horror Movies by Josh Larsen. Strongly respect Josh’s perspective as a critic and Filmspotting host, so amidst my recent foray into horror movies I thought this short book was a helpful primer on the redemptive aspects of the genre.
The Notebook: A History of Thinking on Paper by Roland Allen. Appreciated some historical bits in this but also skimmed over a bunch. Will it inspire me to get back into paper journaling? TBD.
Night of the Living Dead. Some wild swings between “this looks like a terrible student film” and “holy schnikes”. I knew nothing of it besides being considered the godfather of zombie movies, so all the social commentary and 1968 of it all really hit.
The Thing. My first John Carpenter movie and it was, uh, rather horrifying.
I almost couldn’t believe this when I saw it: Disney put out an album of pop punk covers of Disney songs called A Whole New Sound, which includes:
I would just like to shoutout whichever 40-year-old at Disney got the greenlight for this. As Boomers retire and we Millennials take over positions of power, I hope we keep doing stuff like this. Suggestions for the follow-up album:
Please and thank you. 🤘
Ye Olde Blog turns 18 years old today. Forgive me, but as a writer of a certain age I cannot help but think of the “18 years, 18 years” line from Kanye’s “Gold Digger”—a song that debuted just a year before this blog.
Unlike in the song, though, there’s no question of provenance here. From the Blogspot I started in my freshman dorm room all the way to the WordPress-powered custom domain of today, my online writing life has abided through CMS migrations and many life changes to officially reach voting age. (Who would it vote for this year? Definitely not one of the candidates.)
During my blog cleanup late last year, it was fun to see how my early posts in fall 2006 tackled philosophy and movies and poetry and other random thoughts, just as I’ve done in the nearly two decades since. Because I don’t make any money from this endeavor, the core ethos has always been to write about whatever I’m interested in, whenever I want, and that’s held true. No matter where you’ve joined me on that journey, I appreciate your time and attention.
I’m not sure how it started, but I got sucked into a YouTube wormhole of the videos I watched in that early-COVID quarantine phase, like:
The first two especially were appointment viewing each week, because you never knew what celebrities would pop in. Then there were the virtual choirs:
As with mask-wearing, I felt a strangely beautiful camaraderie watching these at the time knowing so many others were enjoying them too in similar circumstances. And watching them now brings me right back to that time, which, luckily for me, was positive—being able to work from home and see my wife and then 1 year old son a lot more.
What a time.
Kai Brach, in his Dense Discovery newsletter, responding to an essay about the political “center”:
True centrism shouldn’t simply find two opposing positions and place itself in the middle of them. Instead, it should anchor itself in core principles of human decency, compassion, moral integrity, etc.
This version of centrism isn’t about always falling neatly between arbitrary sides or never taking a stand. It’s about approaching each issue with critical reasoning, personal principles and lived experiences – not party dogma or oversimplified narratives.
No individual aligns perfectly with any political party. In that sense, we’re all ‘centrists’, capable of independent thought. True centrism acknowledges that ideologies and parties can never fully capture the complexity of reality. It’s about not confusing the map for the territory, and refusing to constrain our thinking within the bounds of political tribalism.
Only by grounding centrism in unwavering core principles, rather than simply splitting the difference between two points, can we chart a more ethical and intellectually honest political course.
My wife sent me something about the opposition of Saturn last Saturday night, which meant it’d be more visible than usual. While at the library that day I saw they had a monocular telescope for checkout to use with smartphones, so I decided to check it out in case I had the opportunity to try for a shot.
And we did. Before bedtime for our five year old, we managed to catch a glimpse of it between some trees outside our back door. Behold my hasty, heavily magnified iPhone astrophotography:
I kept jumping between regular and night mode and playing with the focus for the best possible shot, and that’s what I managed to get. I told him how special it was that we were able to see it, both due to the astronomical factors and just being alive during a time when Saturn still has its rings (it’ll have to say goodbye in about 100 million years).
Science!
I had the pleasure of seeing Back to the Future The Musical at the Cadillac Palace Theater in Chicago with my friend Kevin as an early birthday present from my wife. Back to the Future is the movie that long ago turned me into a cinephile, so it was a thrill to see this fun rendition on the stage and get goosebumps listening to a live orchestra play the score I own in three different formats and had played at my wedding.
As with the Newsies musical, I enjoyed seeing how they tweaked the plot, chronology, and other elements to fit the unique structure of a modern musical. Gone are the Libyan terrorists subplot and car trunk Marty gets locked in and finale at the McFly house—all choices made for specific (and good) reasons that were explored in Creating Back to the Future The Musical, the behind-the-scenes companion book by Michael Klastorin I immediately checked out via my library from Hoopla.
I was also really impressed with the show’s mix of practical and visual effects, especially when the real DeLorean blended with stage effects and a digital backdrop to appear in motion. (Fun fact: the stage DeLorean is, ironically, 88% of full size.) There are several “how did they do that?” moments I wish they’d explained in the book, but they unfortunately refused to reveal some stagecraft secrets.
As for the songs, I’d listened to some of them before, but it’s not the same experience as seeing them performed live. It’s always funny to see which quotes or moments from a movie get turned into their own song in the movie’s Broadway version—in this case “It Works” and “Hello, Is Anybody Home?” and “Put Your Mind to It”.
Same thing with the different solos, which let us dive a little deeper into the characters’ motivations and development. Lorraine’s doo-wop ditty “Pretty Baby” and George’s ballad “My Myopia” and Doc’s touching “For the Dreamers” really fill out the larger story and let us fall in love with these characters anew.
I’ve loved this movie for the majority of my life. Kudos to the show’s core team of Bob Gale, Robert Zemeckis, Alan Silvestri, and Glen Ballard for doing right by the original and making something that’s not a sequel or reboot, and that sits comfortably alongside the movie.
I recently read BoyMom: Reimagining Boyhood in the Age of Impossible Masculinity by Ruth Whippman, a journalist and mom of three boys who wrestles with her own fears, frustrations, and biases as an avowed feminist raising boys in a world with conflicting views of modern masculinity.
As the father of two young boys myself, I found the book deeply relatable, validating, challenging, and illuminating. It facilitated a lot of great discussions with my wife as we try to envision a better, more wholehearted life for our wild and wonderful boys.
Here are some random thoughts and takeaways.
Whippman shares an anecdote of her preschooler’s male teacher welcoming students into the classroom, greeting the girls with nicknames like “sweetheart” but the boys with “buddy.” It’s such a small thing, but it’s an example of how language can create emotional distance with boys compared to girls from a very early age, and set an expectation for which terms of endearment are acceptable for each gender.
After reading that, I realized I too call our 5 year old “buddy” (and our 1 year old “mister”) almost unconsciously. So I’ve resolved to start training myself to use different nicknames that aren’t gendered (Bun and Muffin) so that they know they’re much more than my buddies.
A key point Whippman makes is that the movement to counteract “toxic” masculinity with more positive alternatives like “healthy” or “aspirational” masculinity is, though well-intentioned, a kind of half-measure that still perpetuates the expectation of fulfilling prescribed masculine ideals. Instead:
Boys don’t need more masculinity, but freedom from that paradigm; they need permission to be fully human without the pressure to conform to oppressive masculine norms.
This idea reminded me of the Daenerys Targaryen line in Game of Thrones: “I’m not going to stop the wheel—I’m going to break the wheel.”
Stopping the wheel isn’t enough, because it can always be restarted or rebranded using the same structure. We need to break it altogether and offer alternate modes of transportation, so to speak.
There’s a book called Too Much of a Good Thing: How Four Key Survival Traits Are Now Killing Us by Lee Goodman, and it lays out why some of humanity’s behaviors and biological functions helped us thrive as hunter-gatherers but are detrimental for the sedentary office workers we’ve become:
I think about gender in a similar way. Whatever combination of nature and nurture that modern masculinity and femininity entail, they contain evolutionary adaptations developed over tens of thousands of years. That’s not something you can fundamentally alter or remove overnight. (As E.O. Wilson wrote: “The real problem of humanity is we have Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and god-like technologies.”)
What are the good and useful elements of masculinity that helped us survive and evolve as a species? Which of those elements can still be used for good today? And which are now too much and have become detrimental—to both men and women? How we answer those questions will determine what masculinity will look like for current and future generations.
More photography here.
Scenes from some time in Michigan with extended family…
Gas station architecture:
Boatin’:
Cousins dancing to the sunset (also a perfect album cover for their future band):
Happened to catch the sunset reflected near the five year old:
Early morning dune summit:
In between teaching the five year old how to play and then letting him beat me, I absolutely smoked him in a game I’ve played since elementary school:
Some pre-dinner heckling of the granddads on the grill (notice the thumbs-down in the middle lol):
We’ve encountered more interesting bugs while out and about since doing this last September, so I figured I’d turn this into yet another of my recurring features with its own tag.
Here’s a midge:
And a (much smaller in real life) ground crab spider:
And a yellow woolly bear moth:
And an alder spittlebug:
And a juniper (or jade) stink bug:
And a white plume moth:
And a painted lichen moth:
Originally published at Cinema Sugar.
Roger Radcliffe is ultimately a supporting player in this story of dogs trying to avoid being skinned for their fur (you know, a Disney movie for kids). But as the hero of his own story, he’s an excellent example of an artist at work.
Here’s what we can learn from this eccentric English musician about a productive and fulfilling creative life.
Roger may be a struggling artist, but he still understands the importance of routine and consistency. You can tell he puts in the hours and treats his craft like the job it is—much to his dog Pongo’s chagrin.
Even a pro like Roger knows when it’s quittin’ time. Once 5 pm arrives (thanks to some sneaky time-turning by Pongo), he’s out the door with his canine companion for some fresh air and a chance to unwind.
While playing around with the melody that would eventually become his hit song “Cruella de Vil”, Roger uses nonsense songs as placeholders, which his wife Anita playfully teases him for. But he insists: “Melody first, my dear, and then the lyrics.” Of course lyrics can come first in the creative process, but until you have a melody for them you don’t have a song. Whatever the creative art, figure out what you absolutely need before adding layers of complexity.
Roger’s journey from struggling musician to successful hitmaker can be traced to one key moment: glomming Cruella de Vil’s name onto a half-formed melody. This bit of improvised whimsy occurred only because he was present and observant of the world around him. Same case with his second single “Dalmatian Plantation”, which, despite the problematic name, emerged out of his natural reaction to dozens of sooty dogs destroying his house.
Don’t love once and question your heart
Embrace the lightning of surrender
I had fun with this Fridge Poetry page (works best on desktop) where you can play with the provided words and even add your own. I assembled the above phrase using words that were already lying there, and I like how it turned out like one of my magazine mashup pages.
Do I totally know what it means? No. Does it sound cool and could be song lyrics? Absolutely.
The Infernal Machine: A True Story of Dynamite, Terror, and the Rise of the Modern Detective by Steven Johnson. Another brilliant narrative nonfiction saga from Steven Johnson that weaves multiple historical threads together to tell the riveting story of how dynamite, fingerprinting, anarchism, information science and other seemingly disparate forces all conspired to create what would become the modern surveillance state.
BoyMom: Reimagining Boyhood in the Age of Impossible Masculinity by Ruth Whippman. Highly recommend this new book for my fellow parents of boys especially, but also anyone interested and invested in a more wholehearted masculinity.
The Bear season 3. Carmy needs to chill out and call Claire.
Civil War. Alex Garland’s latest and rather (unfortunately) timely dystopian drama shows what would happen if Ron Swanson from Parks & Recreation became president instead of Leslie Knope.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga. I’d have to do some research on this, but I suspect the five-act structure of this saga could align rather nicely with the Pentateuch, or the first five books of the Bible. Furiosa? More like Mad Moses.
The Taking of Pelham One Two Three. Might be the most ’70s New York City movie ever?