I listen to a radio show on NPR called Wait Wait Don't Tell Me. It is a sort of news quiz/comedy show, where both panel members and guests that call in are quizzed on their knowledge of the recent news. The panel in WWDTM is composed of comedians, actors, authors, and others. There is a set of around 20 panel members that rotate in and out in groups of three (not set, however. For instance, one week it might be Paula Poundstone, Roy Blount Jr., and Faith Salie, but in a few weeks it could be Paula, Alonzo Bodden, and Tom Bodett). A frequent panelist is one called Mo Rocca, a comedian/actor/journalist.
This is where the connections come into play.
Recently (relatively) Food Network started the Cooking Channel, which focuses more on actual cooking and less on arena-style battles for culinary dominance, people tearing into restaurants with sledgehammers, and Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. With new demand, new shows sprung into existence. One that caught my eye was "My Grandmother's Ravioli" with Mo Rocca.
Now, normally this kind of show doesn't interest me. I have never been a huge fan of home cooking shows like Giada, Barefoot Contessa, or any of those other shows like that. But what happened was that when I recognized the name Mo Rocca, I felt a strong connection to the show, like the show had been made specifically for me. Like I knew Mo Rocca personally, and everyone else was just fans. This, of course, is comepletely false. Mo Rocca has appeared on almost every major channel on television, has appeared on Broadway, and of course on many radio programs such as WWDTM. Not to mention that 60 million homes have the Cooking channel, and over 3 million people listen to Wait Wait Don't Tell Me. So, (somewhat optimistically) I am one of around 1.5 million people who both listen to Wait Wait and watch the Cooking Channel. So I really have no reason to feel that connection
That's it. I don't really have a point with this post, it's more of a story. I hope you got something out of it.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Monday, December 23, 2013
Attraction
Why are we attracted to things?
Take me for example. I personally love the color orange. It's not like I have a genetic predisposition toward light with a wavelength between 590 and 620 nanometeres and a frequency between 480 and 505 terahertz. If that were true, then there must have been some genetic marker that tells the "liking the color orange" trait to only point to a specific generation, and that the pattern of generations isn't even consistent. That's too unlikely.
I do have a theory as to why we are attracted to things. For example, there is no logical or survivalist viewpoint from which you can say that playing video games is essential to reproduction or continuing to live. So why am I partial to video games? My theory is that inherently, they aren't attractive. If video games were inherently attractive to human beings than everyone would play them, the same way that (almost) everyone wears clothes. I think that people are attracted to things for one of three reasons: 1. It would be advantageous from a logical, reproduction-centered, or survivalist standpoint, 2. genetic reasons (this more applies to disliking) , or 3. because we're bored.
Humans famously require stimulation in order to feel fulfilled. When a human is lacking in stimulation, it is its main goal to find some. When a human turns to things for stimulation, anywhere from just noticing a color or using something marketed to overcome boredom, they make a connection between that thing and stimulation. Thus, whenever under-stimulated, we jump to that connection. This is my theory, at least.
This explains why games are so universally popular, when really all they are is pressing buttons or moving things around. They provide stimulation, whether that be through the complex movements, the complex gameplay, or the complex concepts imbued in the game. This also explains why it is hard to find a game that has no complexity whatsoever, and why it is near impossible to find a popular game of that kind.
The way the genetics one works is very simple. Take being afraid of the dark. In the past, if we couldn't see with our eyes, we didn't know what was there. Uncertainty is very very very closely associated with fear, and so our ancestors were afraid of the dark because of the uncertainty it cause and the fear the came with it. This trait, of being afraid of the dark, became necessary for survival, probably due to the debilitating fear it filled people with (along with the fact that it was necessary for sight and by extension life). This trait became completely widespread, and to this day humans are more fond of the light than the dark. Humans are also genetically afraid of pale skin, sharp teeth, and red eyes. That may seem all well and good, but ask yourself this: what did we see that gave birth to that trait?
Take me for example. I personally love the color orange. It's not like I have a genetic predisposition toward light with a wavelength between 590 and 620 nanometeres and a frequency between 480 and 505 terahertz. If that were true, then there must have been some genetic marker that tells the "liking the color orange" trait to only point to a specific generation, and that the pattern of generations isn't even consistent. That's too unlikely.
I do have a theory as to why we are attracted to things. For example, there is no logical or survivalist viewpoint from which you can say that playing video games is essential to reproduction or continuing to live. So why am I partial to video games? My theory is that inherently, they aren't attractive. If video games were inherently attractive to human beings than everyone would play them, the same way that (almost) everyone wears clothes. I think that people are attracted to things for one of three reasons: 1. It would be advantageous from a logical, reproduction-centered, or survivalist standpoint, 2. genetic reasons (this more applies to disliking) , or 3. because we're bored.
Humans famously require stimulation in order to feel fulfilled. When a human is lacking in stimulation, it is its main goal to find some. When a human turns to things for stimulation, anywhere from just noticing a color or using something marketed to overcome boredom, they make a connection between that thing and stimulation. Thus, whenever under-stimulated, we jump to that connection. This is my theory, at least.
This explains why games are so universally popular, when really all they are is pressing buttons or moving things around. They provide stimulation, whether that be through the complex movements, the complex gameplay, or the complex concepts imbued in the game. This also explains why it is hard to find a game that has no complexity whatsoever, and why it is near impossible to find a popular game of that kind.
The way the genetics one works is very simple. Take being afraid of the dark. In the past, if we couldn't see with our eyes, we didn't know what was there. Uncertainty is very very very closely associated with fear, and so our ancestors were afraid of the dark because of the uncertainty it cause and the fear the came with it. This trait, of being afraid of the dark, became necessary for survival, probably due to the debilitating fear it filled people with (along with the fact that it was necessary for sight and by extension life). This trait became completely widespread, and to this day humans are more fond of the light than the dark. Humans are also genetically afraid of pale skin, sharp teeth, and red eyes. That may seem all well and good, but ask yourself this: what did we see that gave birth to that trait?
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Introduction
Allow me to explain why this blog started.
It began when I read this book:
It's a book compiling blog posts and other stories from Allie Brosh. Her blog is hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com. Her blog posts are long posts about very random things that happen to her, and is complete with purposefully artistically crude drawings. She has absolutely no qualifications for being a professional blogger, and no artistic credentials either.
I had a blog before this one, at rainydaysat340.blogspot.com. It was not exactly my best work. When I started that blog, I posted 4 posts at once because I had already written them. When I wrote my posts, I had a length requirement for myself, because short posts looked aesthetically horrifying to me. At that point I already considered myself a good writer, and 2 paragraph posts didn't live up to my expectations. And that was where everything went wrong.
I started to post less, which at first wasn't that much of a big deal. I looked at that stats page on my blogger dashboard, and my page views were going through the roof very fast.
But then it started to go wrong. There began to be pressure from the outside to post more often. This led to me staring blankly at the computer screen with nothing to write about, churning out some crappy story about candy canes, and posting it with a palpable sense of defeat. Because in posting those horrible posts, I failed myself and the standards I had set. The quality of my posts went wayyyyy down, and then I basically abandoned the blog. I couldn't take it anymore.
And then, I found Brosh.
Over an 18-month period she published exactly two posts. Count them, two. They were long posts, granted, but still. The fact that she has very low quality in her art, and no experience in blogging, were probably the most inspirational things about her and her blog to me. It helped me realize that I don't need to do the impossible just to get over 1200 page views all-time. (which is good, because the impossible tends to be very hard to do.)
It reminds me, actually, of a familiar situation at an art museum. There is an artist named David Hockney, who had a lot of art on display in this museum. But the thing is, some of it was paintings and drawings...on iPhones and iPads.
I've always wanted to be a good artist. Who hasn't? You grab a piece of paper and a pencil and say "I'm going to make incredible art today. It's going to be super awesome and cool and I'm going to do it before lunch." And then...well, you know what happens. You give up. David Hockney didn't give up. I know this because the iPhone and iPad drawings at the museum were animations of him drawing. You could almost hear what was going through his head while he was drawing this picture of flowers in a vase:
No no no, these petals are too big...eh, I'll just draw over it. No, that made it worse. Whatever, just go with it.
That's the difference, I think. When we (and when I say we, I'm referring to those of us that try to make great art in an afternoon and fail spectacularly) sit down and attempt something, it needs. To. Be. Perfect. When David Hockney sits down to draw something on his iPhone, he actually has lower standards than we do. He just keeps trying because he knows that it doesn't need to be perfect.
I don't know. It's entirely possible that David Hockney is actually a huge perfectionist and just has a massive amount of talent and purposefully makes his iPhone drawings slightly unrealistic, If anyone knows that that's true, don't ruin it for me. For now, I'm content to remain optimistic that someday, I could be Brosh or Hockney.
And that's good enough for me.
To finish the story: I started this blog. I didn't create any art actually, I just threw that in there because I think it helped me get my point across.
I already have many ideas for other posts, because I'm a creative person. But I'm going to hold off on those for obvious reasons. But rest assured, I will be back. This is not going to become RDA340, I can promise you that.
Thanks for reading!
It began when I read this book:
It's a book compiling blog posts and other stories from Allie Brosh. Her blog is hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com. Her blog posts are long posts about very random things that happen to her, and is complete with purposefully artistically crude drawings. She has absolutely no qualifications for being a professional blogger, and no artistic credentials either.
I had a blog before this one, at rainydaysat340.blogspot.com. It was not exactly my best work. When I started that blog, I posted 4 posts at once because I had already written them. When I wrote my posts, I had a length requirement for myself, because short posts looked aesthetically horrifying to me. At that point I already considered myself a good writer, and 2 paragraph posts didn't live up to my expectations. And that was where everything went wrong.
I started to post less, which at first wasn't that much of a big deal. I looked at that stats page on my blogger dashboard, and my page views were going through the roof very fast.
But then it started to go wrong. There began to be pressure from the outside to post more often. This led to me staring blankly at the computer screen with nothing to write about, churning out some crappy story about candy canes, and posting it with a palpable sense of defeat. Because in posting those horrible posts, I failed myself and the standards I had set. The quality of my posts went wayyyyy down, and then I basically abandoned the blog. I couldn't take it anymore.
And then, I found Brosh.
Over an 18-month period she published exactly two posts. Count them, two. They were long posts, granted, but still. The fact that she has very low quality in her art, and no experience in blogging, were probably the most inspirational things about her and her blog to me. It helped me realize that I don't need to do the impossible just to get over 1200 page views all-time. (which is good, because the impossible tends to be very hard to do.)
It reminds me, actually, of a familiar situation at an art museum. There is an artist named David Hockney, who had a lot of art on display in this museum. But the thing is, some of it was paintings and drawings...on iPhones and iPads.
I've always wanted to be a good artist. Who hasn't? You grab a piece of paper and a pencil and say "I'm going to make incredible art today. It's going to be super awesome and cool and I'm going to do it before lunch." And then...well, you know what happens. You give up. David Hockney didn't give up. I know this because the iPhone and iPad drawings at the museum were animations of him drawing. You could almost hear what was going through his head while he was drawing this picture of flowers in a vase:
No no no, these petals are too big...eh, I'll just draw over it. No, that made it worse. Whatever, just go with it.
That's the difference, I think. When we (and when I say we, I'm referring to those of us that try to make great art in an afternoon and fail spectacularly) sit down and attempt something, it needs. To. Be. Perfect. When David Hockney sits down to draw something on his iPhone, he actually has lower standards than we do. He just keeps trying because he knows that it doesn't need to be perfect.
I don't know. It's entirely possible that David Hockney is actually a huge perfectionist and just has a massive amount of talent and purposefully makes his iPhone drawings slightly unrealistic, If anyone knows that that's true, don't ruin it for me. For now, I'm content to remain optimistic that someday, I could be Brosh or Hockney.
And that's good enough for me.
To finish the story: I started this blog. I didn't create any art actually, I just threw that in there because I think it helped me get my point across.
I already have many ideas for other posts, because I'm a creative person. But I'm going to hold off on those for obvious reasons. But rest assured, I will be back. This is not going to become RDA340, I can promise you that.
Thanks for reading!
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