Patrick StewÂart came to ComicÂpalooza (aka The Texas InterÂnaÂtionÂal ComÂic ConÂvenÂtion) as a speÂcial guest. It’s not hard to imagÂine why, espeÂcialÂly givÂen his roles on Star Trek: The Next GenÂerÂaÂtion and the X‑Men film series.
DurÂing a Q&A sesÂsion with conÂvenÂtion attenÂdees, StewÂart fieldÂed a quesÂtion that asked everyÂone to leave behind the fanÂtaÂsy world and conÂfront some cold realÂiÂties. Since 2006, StewÂart has worked with Amnesty InterÂnaÂtionÂal and Refuge, a UK charÂiÂty for abused women, to make a meanÂingÂful dent in the levÂels of domesÂtic vioÂlence expeÂriÂenced in our sociÂeties. Still hauntÂed, StewÂart perÂsonÂalÂly witÂnessed domesÂtic vioÂlence in his own home as a child. As a youngÂster, he felt powÂerÂless to stop it. But, as an adult, he can now put his celebriÂty on the line and ask men to be part of the soluÂtion, not the probÂlem. The video, which gets more movÂing as it goes along, also makes the case for improvÂing treatÂment of PTSD — a probÂlem unto itself, and also someÂthing that conÂtributes to domesÂtic vioÂlence, espeÂcialÂly durÂing times of proÂlonged war.
Note: the influÂenÂtial speech refÂerÂenced in the conÂverÂsaÂtion appears below.
If you watch enough comÂmenceÂment speechÂes, if you gathÂer the colÂlecÂtive wisÂdom of peoÂple who “have made it” in life, you start to see a trend. The key to life isn’t being smarter than the rest, though that doesÂn’t hurt. The key is resilience — your abilÂiÂty to deal with inevitable failÂures, learn from your misÂtakes, dust yourÂself off emoÂtionÂalÂly, physÂiÂcalÂly or finanÂcialÂly, and then move forÂward. It’s easÂiÂer said than done, but essenÂtial. J.K. RowlÂing, who went from homeÂlessÂness to writÂing HarÂry PotÂter, delivÂered that mesÂsage at HarÂvard sevÂerÂal years ago. Now Oprah WinÂfrey, who emerged from the Jim Crow South to become AmerÂiÂca’s most endurÂing TV perÂsonÂalÂiÂty, returns to HarÂvard to tell stuÂdents her verÂsion of that stoÂry:
There is no such thing as failÂure. FailÂure is just life tryÂing to move us in anothÂer direcÂtion. Now, when you’re down there in the hole, it looks like failÂure. … Give yourÂself time to mourn what you think you may have lost, but then here’s the key: Learn from every misÂtake because every expeÂriÂence, encounter and parÂticÂuÂlarÂly your misÂtakes are there to teach you and force you into being more who you are. And then figÂure out what is the next right move. And the key to life is to develÂop an interÂnal moral, emoÂtionÂal GPS that can tell you which way to go.
For more insights into conÂstrucÂtiveÂly manÂagÂing failÂure, you can visÂit these talks below:
Her appetite for digÂiÂtal diaÂlogue with admirÂers and accusers alike calls to mind felÂlow shrinkÂing vioÂlet CourtÂney Love. Her refusal to let anyÂone but AmanÂda Palmer speak for AmanÂda FuckÂing Palmer has givÂen rise to an army of trolls, who gleeÂfulÂly find proof of monÂstrous ego in her most innocuÂous of moves. It’s the price of allowÂing the pubÂlic comÂplete access to “Do It With a RockÂstar,” if you will.
As notÂed in her keynote speech (above) at the recent Muse and the MarÂketÂplace litÂerÂary conÂferÂence, “with the interÂnet you do not get to choose.” This applies whether one is genÂerÂatÂing conÂtent or leavÂing nasty comÂments. Her remarks touch upon her most recent firestorm, a direct trail leadÂing back to “A Poem for Dzhokar,” a hastiÂly comÂposed and postÂed attempt to put herÂself in the shoes of the susÂpectÂed Boston Marathon bomber as he lay in a boat, awaitÂing capÂture.
ClearÂly, someÂone with her expeÂriÂence does not slap such a hot potaÂto online innoÂcent of the conÂseÂquences. She got plenÂty of lumps, and whether or not the majorÂiÂty of them were deserved is a matÂter of perÂsonÂal opinÂion. More than 2300 peoÂple quickÂly logged on to voice these aforeÂmenÂtioned opinÂions, some supÂportÂive, some takÂing the form of mockÂing haikus, which Palmer appreÂciÂatÂed, espeÂcialÂly since it was, at the time, NationÂal PoetÂry Month.
It seems to me that any time her ass is hangÂing out her giant heart’s not far behind. LisÂten to her speech, and see if you don’t find her attiÂtude ultiÂmateÂly inspirÂing, espeÂcialÂly for those artists interÂestÂed in conÂnectÂing with a largÂer audiÂence. (The preÂsenÂtaÂtion’s so restrained, you can turn your back on the screen, turn your attenÂtion to some pedesÂtriÂan task, and enjoy her thoughts podÂcast-style. )
It turns out that the fleetÂing proÂnounceÂments we post on TwitÂter are catÂnip for acaÂdÂeÂmics and othÂers eager to find the eluÂsive pulse of AmerÂiÂcan sociÂety. Since TwitÂter launched in 2006, researchers have been hard at work figÂurÂing out how to turn those 140-charÂacÂter musÂings into tea leaves with someÂthing meanÂingÂful to say about us all.
Here come three new projects that claim to proÂvide a winÂdow into the AmerÂiÂcan soul through TwitÂter. Whether they sucÂceed or not, well, that’s still unclear. (And, by the way, you can start folÂlowÂing Open CulÂture on TwitÂter here.)
They looked at two things: HurÂriÂcane Sandy (top) and the 2012 PresÂiÂdenÂtial ElecÂtion (above). Using Twitter’s “garÂden hose feed”—a ranÂdom samÂpling of 10 perÂcent of the roughÂly 500 milÂlion tweets sent every day—researchers colÂor-codÂed tweets red for negÂaÂtive tone and blue for posÂiÂtive and showed the shiftÂing conÂcenÂtraÂtions of TwitÂter activÂiÂty across the counÂtry. It looks like a map of a talkÂing weathÂer sysÂtem as occaÂsionÂal diaÂlogue boxÂes open up to show repÂreÂsenÂtaÂtive tweets. Researcher Kalev LeeÂtaru argues that trackÂing TwitÂter activÂiÂty gives us the potenÂtial to track the heartÂbeat of sociÂety.
Two othÂer projects look in an on-going way at tweet “tone,” or the negativity/positivity of mesÂsages. One spin on this research is the GeoÂgraphÂic Hate Map (samÂple map above), a project by Dr. MonÂiÂca Stephens of HumÂboldt State UniÂverÂsiÂty in NorthÂern CalÂiÂforÂnia. To begin their work, Stephens and her team accessed a masÂsive dataÂbase of geoÂgraphÂiÂcalÂly tagged tweets sent between June, 2012 and April, 2013.
They used only tweets that conÂtained any of ten “hate words.” They read each tweet to be sure the words were used in a negÂaÂtive way and built a map based on where the tweets came from. Then they aggreÂgatÂed to the counÂty levÂel and norÂmalÂized for the amount of twitÂter trafÂfic in that area so that denseÂly popÂuÂlatÂed areas don’t look more racist or homoÂphoÂbic by default.
Then there’s the glass half full. The HedoÂnomeÂter meaÂsures hapÂpiÂness, or lack thereÂof, as expressed by tweets, calÂcuÂlatÂing averÂages based on what the researchers call “word shifts” (watch an explaÂnaÂtion above). This research project, put togethÂer by the UniÂverÂsiÂty of VerÂmont ComÂplex SysÂtems CenÂter, uses the same garÂden hose feed as the GlobÂal TwitÂter HeartÂbeat. This project searchÂes for freÂquentÂly used words to meaÂsure how good a day TwitÂter users are havÂing. Since 2008 the HedoÂnomeÂter has kept track of how often words like “hapÂpy,” “yes,” and “love” pop up in tweets, as opposed to “hate,” “no,” and “unhapÂpy.” The sadÂdest day on HedoÂnomeÂter record so far is April 15, 2013, the day bombs explodÂed at the Boston Marathon finÂish line. ChristÂmas Day tends to rank as the hapÂpiÂest day of the year.
To be sure, any tool that uses tweets for data is meaÂsurÂing a very young and speÂcifÂic subÂgroup of peoÂple. Tweets are not a reliÂable meaÂsure of anyÂthing, realÂly, but maybe with some tweakÂing, these research modÂels will come up with someÂthing interÂestÂing.
In sixth grade, my friend Amy Osborn’s parÂents took us to a screenÂing of Annie Hall. The bedÂroom scenes with CarÂol Kane, Janet MarÂgolin and Diane Keaton were chaste by today’s stanÂdards. The reparÂtee was so beyond my frame of refÂerÂence, it caused but litÂtle disÂcomÂfort. What did me in was the two-line exchange between a carÂtoon Woody Allen and Snow White’s Wicked Queen conÂcernÂing her periÂod (or lack thereÂof). Are You There God? It’s Me, MarÂgaret was our sacred text, but its most senÂsaÂtionÂal subÂject matter—menstruation—was deeply taboo outÂside of my 1970’s IndiÂana tribe. I could have died, knowÂing Mr. Osborn was sitÂting right there. The one conÂsoÂlaÂtion was that my own parÂents weren’t.
These awkÂward encounÂters can be definÂing, which explains why the Tribeca Film FesÂtiÂval sought to ferÂret them out as part of its One QuesÂtion series. It’s impresÂsive that the four direcÂtors and one proÂducÂer feaÂtured above decidÂed to purÂsue careers in film after inadÂverÂtentÂly sharÂing with their parÂents such tenÂder moments as a masÂturÂbatÂing Philip SeyÂmour HoffÂman in Todd Solondz’s semÂiÂnal (parÂdon the pun) HapÂpiÂness or the relentÂless defloÂration scene at the top of LarÂry Clark’s Kids.
PerÂhaps you can relate. If so, please spill the gory details below. ProÂvidÂed you’re strong enough to revisÂit the trauÂma, what was your most cringe-inducÂing moment at the movies with your mom or dad, or—let’s not be ageist here—your kids?
GivÂen such a prodiÂgious outÂput, he wiseÂly turned to sciÂence to quanÂtiÂfy his ardor in the reproÂducÂtion above. (His physiÂcian’s scrawl can be difÂfiÂcult to deciÂpher — a tranÂscripÂtion is supÂplied below.)
SALLYBURGER,
If you took THE NUMBER OF SUB-ATOMIC PARTICLES IN THE UNIVERSE and mulÂtiÂplied that numÂber times itself THAT MANY TIMES; and then added the total numÂber of MICRO-SECONDS since the beginÂning of time, times itself; and then added 803—you would STILL have only the tiniÂest fracÂtion of A BILLION-BILLIONTH PER CENT of the amount of love I HAVE FOR YOU.
Love,
your canÂdle partÂner,
the romanÂtic Mr CarÂlin,
your eterÂnal flame
A porÂtion of these sweet nothÂings were colÂlectÂed in The George CarÂlin LetÂters. Its subÂtiÂtle, The PerÂmaÂnent Courtship of SalÂly Wade, was takÂen from the note he left on her comÂputÂer the day he died, two days shy of their 10th anniverÂsary.
David FosÂter WalÂlace was a hyper-anxÂious chronÂiÂcler of the minute details of a cerÂtain kind of upper-midÂdle-class AmerÂiÂcan life. In his hands, it took on someÂtimes lumiÂnous, someÂtimes jaunÂdiced qualÂiÂties. WalÂlace was also someÂthing of a metaÂphysiÂcian: reflecÂtive teacher, wise-beyond-his-years thinker, and (tragÂiÂcalÂly in hindÂsight) quite self-depÂreÂcatÂing litÂerÂary superÂstar. In the latÂter capacÂiÂty, he was often called on to perÂform the duties of a docent, adminÂisÂterÂing comÂmenceÂment speechÂes, for examÂple, which he did for the gradÂuÂatÂing class of KenyÂon in 2005.
He began with a stoÂry: two young fish meet an oldÂer fish, who asks them “How’s the water?” The younger fish look at each othÂer and say, “What the hell is water?” FosÂter WalÂlace explains the stoÂry this way:
The point of the fish stoÂry is mereÂly that the most obviÂous, imporÂtant realÂiÂties are often the ones that are hardÂest to see and talk about. StatÂed as an EngÂlish senÂtence, of course, this is just a banal platÂiÂtude, but the fact is that in the day to day trenchÂes of adult exisÂtence, banal platÂiÂtudes can have a life or death imporÂtance, or so I wish to sugÂgest to you on this dry and loveÂly mornÂing.
In the video above, “This is Water,” The GlosÂsary—“fine purÂveyÂors of stimÂuÂlatÂing videograms”—take an abridged verÂsion of the origÂiÂnal audio recordÂing and set it to a series of provocaÂtive images. In their interÂpreÂtaÂtion, FosÂter Wallace’s speech takes on the kind of midÂdle-class neuÂroÂsis of David Fincher’s realÂizaÂtion of Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club.
It’s a dystopiÂan vision of post-grad life that brings vivid clarÂiÂty to one of my menÂtors’ pieces of advice: “There are two worst things: One, you don’t get a job. Two, you get a job.” Or one could always quote MorÂrisÂsey: “I was lookÂing for a job, and then I found a job. And heavÂen knows I’m misÂerÂable now.” I still haven’t figÂured out what’s worse. I hope some of those KenyÂon grads have.
If you would like to supÂport the misÂsion of Open CulÂture, conÂsidÂer makÂing a donaÂtion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your conÂtriÂbuÂtions will help us conÂtinÂue proÂvidÂing the best free culÂturÂal and eduÂcaÂtionÂal mateÂriÂals to learnÂers everyÂwhere. You can conÂtribute through PayÂPal, PatreÂon, and VenÂmo (@openculture). Thanks!
Andy StewÂart builds boats with his own hands for life-affirmÂing reaÂsons. It’s a way to make inanÂiÂmate objects come alive, to breathe new life into our world. But StewÂart also enjoys the chalÂlenge of it all. The sea, he tells us, is the “final arbiÂtraÂtor” of your work. Quite deciÂsiveÂly, it tells you whether a boat has been craftÂed with preÂciÂsion, whether every piece of wood conÂtributes to the largÂer hull/whole. If your boat can stand the rigÂorÂous tests of nature and time, you know you’ve masÂtered your craft. The short docÂuÂmenÂtary above, Shaped on all Six Sides, was directÂed by Kat GarÂdiner.
If you would like to supÂport the misÂsion of Open CulÂture, conÂsidÂer makÂing a donaÂtion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your conÂtriÂbuÂtions will help us conÂtinÂue proÂvidÂing the best free culÂturÂal and eduÂcaÂtionÂal mateÂriÂals to learnÂers everyÂwhere. You can conÂtribute through PayÂPal, PatreÂon, and VenÂmo (@openculture). Thanks!
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