Sunday, November 14, 2010

some half-baked goodness

(c/o Life Is Good)
Thinking back to blogging-intensive days of yesteryear, I vividly remember the feeling of a thought swirling around in my head.  I'd ruminate on it, and then it would collide with another shrapnel thought from a completely different experience.  To connect these synapses, it usually warranted at least a slight pause to make sure I could consciously explain what was happening.  The whole thing was rather dizzying (of course, coffee helped), but everything usually turned out fine . . . so long as I could spit it out somewhere.

The spitting is key, I think.  Personal blogs are really spittoons.  They were designed as a side-kick receptacle for things that need to get out of your mouth, but that might not be socially/culturally appropriate.

I don't have a loogie, but there's definitely some spit.

Here goes:

After making my coffee, opening my screens and clicking on some things to wake up, I find myself in this odd state of mind where I use words unquestionably that I'd ordinarily censor from myself.  Nothing bad, per se.  No swearing or vulgar-type phrases.  No, none of that.  

Rather, I use -- quite liberally -- words that connote 'goodness'.  Words by which our culture progresses.  You know the culprits . . . good, sweet, awesome, amazing, brilliant and (the biggest offender) great.  

Obviously, the words have no intrinsic badness.  Or goodness, I guess.  It's all about the context.  My curiosity rises in my own liberal use of the bastards, though -- why are those the go-to pieces of language?  My first thought would be to point out that there's sort of a natural ability for people to curate the experiences around them as 'good experiences' or 'amazing things' or 'brilliant thoughts' . . . but if you think about what it means to curate something, I'd imagine we're sort of lacking the latter part of the activity.  Rather than just placing a label of 'good' on something around us, curating actually connotes collecting, as well.  Assembling in some sort of order, arranging in a certain way, or simply clumping together to experience at a later time.  Not sure we do that for ourselves.

But, things like the ubiquitous 'like' button and other social bookmarking sites allow people to access worthwhile information at a later time.  And share it.  I suppose this might be the closest thing we have.  Er, I mean . . . tool, I guess.  Other cultural thought aggregators like Good Magazine are steering this way, too.  Picking out goodness, publishing it, sharing it, what have you . . .

But, just because these new tools are popping up, doesn't necessarily mean we have license to use these words without the ethical obligation to consider what we really mean when we whip out 'good' words.

Upon first consideration, I seem just lazy as fuck.  We're soaking up so much stuff/information/etc that despite our best efforts, the best label we can give something is related to 'good.'  Really?  Seems a bit tragic that with all the words we have in our linguistic abyss, the layer we choose to call out as superlative is how good it is.

Considering the genesis of our 'good' label, the incredibly oversimplified thought process goes something like this, I'd imagine: starting at 'hmm, I wonder if this is new?' to 'oh, that's interesting' to 'this is good stuff!' and landing at 'I should share this.'  Intriguing, interesting, valuable, shareable.  Maybe that's just how I experience it, and maybe there are some more nuances to that process, but consider that a Mental Processing 101 version of the different layers tapped into as we swim in information. 

The sharing bit is another immensely interesting part of the whole thing, but in hopes to not get terribly wrapped up in a tangent, I want to keep my eyes on the value bit.  Sharing is worth unpacking at another time, no doubt.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but I started spitting this out when I found myself writing down these words and asking myself a couple of questions.  Here are a few, just to document my current thoughts -- there are undoubtedly more.

(1) PERSONALLY - How am I processing this piece of information?  Is is being logged in the 'good' stack?  the 'really good' stack?  Am I going to want to do a better job filing it?  Or is alright if I simply verbally star it to come back to it later?  How might this compare to something that I tagged as 'good' or 'sweet' yesterday, when I was wading through much more of the information marsh?  More important?  Am I just attaching a superlative label to it for its relative goodness amongst a collection of 'less good' stuff?  

(2) SOCIALLY - Do I need to further specify what I mean when I say 'awesome' or 'amazing'?  or is it sort of culturally understood if I simply post it on twitter/facebook or email it to a friend?  Do I even need to attach a verbal label to it?  Or might the value be somewhere in our relationship-based shared subconscious, thereby mutually understood by simply posting/sending it out?

(3) CULTURALLY - What am I actually adding to culture by slapping my own label on a piece of information and publishing it for the world to see?  Especially if it's not groundbreakingly new or terribly unique.  Are there timeless labels/tags to connote 'good'? or might there be more culturally relevant ways to tag what we see that is worthwhile?  

Anyway, these are obviously all over the place.  And I haven't even tapped into the 'bad' end of the spectrum, as that might unleash a completely different discussion given the political atmosphere our country is breathing in.  But, I think there's some value in picking through the words we use to get to communication that more accurately gets our point(s) across. 

When looking at the words we use and the way we use them, it seems there are increasingly more ways to publish the 'goodness' we find (and badness, at that), but fewer ways to discern between different layers of that same goodness.  I'm sure there are some implications, but maybe that's for another day . . .

Might need some more coffee first.  The swirling seems excessive with this topic.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

narrative of my city

What happens when you keep things personal?

But rather than sloppy accusations and ignorant presumptions, you make your point about the future of your city with a common narrative that everyone can relate to?

Here's a wonderfully refreshing approach to the discussion over plans for the downtown Manhattan mosque.  




Leave it to NPR to pull out this card.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

hot damn. hot quotes.

Between the constantly moving bodies, talking mouths, mismatched tshirts, and incessant tweeting, it's totally easy to involuntarily check out mentally.  Crazy amounts of time goes by and even crazier amounts of information gets dumped on all of us here.

But I love it.  

Props to everyone for making it halfway.  Like after crossing the finish line of a marathon, I think we should get wrapped in cellophane at the end of this.  Or get a medal of some sort.  This is the first time that I really feel like this week is some kind of hybrid race -- spans of time requiring incredible concentration, sore bodies, unfortunate amounts of not-so-subtle glances to your fellow racers, and lots of running shoes.  But, instead of water, we have ample beer breaks . . .

Just like the collective running culture, I'm watching an amazingly wise group of people zip around Austin this week.  So, so wise.  (Some are self-accredited in their wisdom and kind of ignorant, but the really great minds make up for those few exceptions).  Obviously, I think it's everyone's goal here to tap into this wisdom, but oftentimes it can become an all-too-focused pursuit on our parts -- totally get that there's value in analyzing each panel on a micro level, but it's also important to have some more moments of reflection.  Think macro a bit.  What are we getting out of this whole tech incubation? 

I'd imagine we all have different answers.  I'm still working on a mine.

Anyway, wanted to take a halfway look at some of the pieces I was able to catch over the past few days.  Some are uplifting and inspiring, while some are borderline offensive.  All of them, however, are equally pithy.  Here goes:

On social bonding and intimacy:
"Men, don't have sex with a woman unless you're ready for her to be glued to you for 2 weeks or until they have their period." (panel on bonding and intimacy)

On old movies and music:
"$1 things are the biggest disruptions in the marketplace."  (panel on power shift between creators and audience)

On privacy:
"Just because something's publicly accessible, doesn't mean it should be publicized." (keynote speaker, Dannah Boyd)

On designing for the future:
"The ability to think about the future is evaporating." (panel on Design Fiction)

On the publicity / privacy divide:

"These are living things."  (keynote speaker, Dannah Boyd)

On movements:
"The thing that keeps a movement going is the same thing that keeps you from flaking on your friend's birthday party."  (Scott Heiferman)

On innovation:
"There's no point in innovating if you think you already know the answer." (TrendHunter)

On drawing:
"We have not fully explored an idea until we're talked about it and drawn it out.  We cannot share an idea until we've talked about it and drawn it out."  (Dan Roam)

On predictions:
"We don't really know what we want. Our environment largely affects our decisions."  (Dan Ariely)

On sustainability:
"When will we stop thinking that less bad is good?" (keynote speaker, Val Casey)

On social action:
"Social awareness has a tranquilizing effect." (keynote speaker, Val Casey)

I'm learning almost more just by watching everyone soak up all this stuff.  It's fascinating.  An incubated social psych experiment of sorts.  Pretty great . . .

Anyway, off to grab a beer with an old friend.  Some more thoughts later.  Hopefully less hodgepodgy at the next check-in . . .

Posted via email from DeeperDish

Sleep is overrated, I guess.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Fire alarm leads to evacuation. And shut-down.

But, walking down 4 flights of stairs with a panelist, she couldn't talk to me until she did the tweetwalk.

Fitting that her talk was about changes in bonding and intimacy, no?

Posted via email from DeeperDish

Stopped to play with a mound of legos.

Awesome. But let's do this with a beer?

Posted via email from DeeperDish

personal relationships + technology? #IPRpanel

really enjoyed the debate over the much-discussed topic.  

quickly became personal, bringing in spouses/girlfriends/awkward stories into the discussion -- smart move to quickly set the tone of things.

raised some interesting thoughts on identity (among other things):

how are our identities blurring?
should we be taking the reins of who we are and how we're perceived?  (are we already doing this?)
are our friends co-constructing (or constructing?) our identities?
there are some fascinating paradoxes of power and choice when it comes to public identities.

great to hear how research-backed thinking can intelligently add to the cultural conversation.  but -- as always -- even more awesome to hear some cross-generational bickering over argument strategies, relationship dilemmas, and personal identity crises.  

great panel. 

side note:  there was an awesome elderly woman toward the end of the Q&A who told everyone what's what.  you go!

Posted via email from DeeperDish

free stuff

broke diaries. some friends from brooklyn talking about the value of giving/getting/seeking out/etc free stuff.  some cool personal stories here.

boils down to this:  casseroles are social, cheap doesn't equal non-luxurious, and bartering is changing.  

duh.

Posted via email from DeeperDish

Thursday, January 21, 2010

sip 'n stare

















In the middle of winter, it's trite to say that one misses warmer weather.

In the words of Stephanie Tanner, "No duh!"

But I think I've found something that I miss more than weather above 32 degrees. Cafes. Despite the enjoyable parts of reverting back to the more casual, laid-back life of a Chicagoan, there's something to be said for the occasional caffeinated oasis in New York. I'm not sure if it's the momentary suspension of constant things, or it's simply the act of sitting, or even the combination of sitting still, sipping coffee/tea, and having the default become listening to the conversations fill the air around you . . . but I'm pretty sure that right there is one of life's greatest moments. Sitting down, suspending self, absorbing audio, observing body language, exposing yourself to new ideas in books, exposing your ideas to new ideas in your unconscious, and getting high on caffeine. Damn, that's pretty awesome.

Alas, that same oasis doesn't exist in Chicago. There are cafes, there are people, there are books, blogs, music, and even 3 million people. All of which are idiosyncratic and equally interesting as anywhere else in the world. But the hum doesn't really go silent in quite the same manner.

Not sure what that means.

I suppose I should just wish for the warm weather and be done with it.

(photo via brittnybadger)

Monday, January 11, 2010

plagued with ambivalence


















In my head, I always imagined this post to be analogous to shouting down an abandoned well. I was going to start out this post with a picture of tumbleweed.

Instead I chose to highlight my own ambivalence. After all, this space is less about the blog than it is about what goes on in my head. Thus, I've depicted what it feels like in my head.

Stop and go. At the same time. Go! Er, I mean . . .

You see? It can be a bit confusing.

See, I have the best intentions for this space, but it always seems to go wrong. I've discovered lots of neat things online, and I've been able to capture my thoughts (like here and here), but blogging seems to be taking a very distant back seat. Why?

Don't answer that.

See that was a trap. A blogging trap. Writers do that to include readers in their story. I don't want you involved in my story. Or, at least, not this first entry back. It always feels like the tin man . . . sans singing, emotional issues and the joyous posse.

Don't fall into the trap. Let me just get this out my system.

You see, the ambivalence grew out of a seedling of distraction watered by a gardener of expectation. Personal and interpersonal. Thanks to the loyal reader around New Brunswick, NJ who continues to visit. And a huge thank you to my friends in Europe and South America that tuned in while I abandoned the blog.

As a side note -- my blog was only about 2 years old, if you count the blog transplant as a "my dad got a new job and dragged me and the family along with him" move. What happens if you abandon a child at the age of 2? I think there might be more consistency in blog writing if it was considered a new generation of myself. A part of me living on, sort of. Hmm, maybe it would just be motivating because of the punishment, rather . . . you know, punishment rather than reward. Something to think about.

Anyway, not sure if it's going to be another 4 months before another one of these goes up, but the urge presented itself so I pounced.