Events

Thursday, February 9, 12

At War with Truong Tran   - san francisco
FaceTime   - ny

COLUMNS

––Why do you think it’s so popular?

Blum: Because it's there.  Monkey see, monkey text.

Glass: People want to be slim, fit, and live forever; that’s obvious and justifiable. But people also want short cuts to the kind of introspection and genuine humanity (empathy, humility, and fellowship) that one achieves only through positive emotional and intellectual give-and-take with friends, colleagues, family, and community—and, privately, through the contemplation of life’s ordeals and the weathering of unexpected crises. Sure, everyone yearns now and then for a soul makeover. Yoga as a form of physical discipline? Admirable. As an alternative to good psychotherapy? Wishful thinking. As a mini-religion? Yikes.

Hermann: For lots and lots of reasons.  I think it caters to our voyeuristic desires, and to our desire to have control over the kind of self we project to the world.  I see the appeal of meeting someone somewhere and then typing his/her name into Facebook to see what kinds of stuff s/he puts out there—I am human after all.  But this can turn dangerous so fast, as in the case of a friend of mine, whose access to an ex-girlfriend's Facebook page brought him much anguish, because he couldn't stop himself from checking it all the time.  This is a serious unintended consequence, because there is a certain natural and necessary way that people come and go from our lives, and Facebook makes the disappearance a little less easy.  Not to give it such power. I realize that there are plenty of people who have healthy relationships with it, and that it's possible to use it as a simple tool for connecting with people in different cities or countries, and etc.  There might be a specifically New York component to my dislike for it, because when you're only connecting to people that you live in the same city with it becomes a bit more perverted into a popularity contest of a strange sort.  And don't get me started on the weirdness of the instant switch between declaring yourself "single" to "in a relationship," and the glee that I've witnessed over people making that switch and noticing that others have made that switch, and then the shame of switching it back to the dreaded "single" distinction...

Pearl: How did Matthew McConaughey become a big movie star before he was in a movie? Somehow people were convinced that being Apple-loyal said something about one's identity. It's some kind of postmodern misplaced religious instinct. I will have no friends anymore, by the way, because of this.


––What’s an under-rated alternative you’d promote in its place?


Blum: Waiting until you get home and emailing the people you want to talk to.  Or picking up the phone and calling them.  I'll allow a cell.  Face-to-face communication sometimes works too!

Glass: No single ritual or activity can change you so profoundly. But I have my subjective notions about what’s good for the soul. First and foremost, make a habit of reading good, meaty, absorbing fiction. Read fairy tales or favorite childhood books to your kids (or somebody else’s). Walk by the sea, often, in the dead of winter—sometimes alone, sometimes not. If you like dancing or singing, do more of it; in your kitchen, to the radio, works wonders. Every few weeks, gather with friends and prepare a satisfying meal at somebody’s home. Linger at the table and talk until you’re all talked out, no curfew. Don’t be afraid to argue, and shrug off political correctness. (Park your kids in the next room, with pizza and brownies, in front of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang or, if they’re old enough, Lawrence of Arabia. Let them fall asleep in their chocolate-smeared PJs.) Any or all of these things will take you deep into your better self and help you focus on the most important questions. All are potentially transformative, rejuvenating, invigorating.  

Hermann: Hmm.  Book groups, maybe?  Sewing circles?  Intramural sports teams?  Conversation?

Pearl: I use a Sony PC. But I'm not a commercial for them. That's the thing, I don't think my PC says *anything* about my identity. I don't want it to. It's just my computer. What I would like is if they stopped inventing 1/5" laptops long enough to invent a good cloth to clean my laptop screen, which gets filthy within seconds.