ethnodat, Author at The Cracked Door

The Meaningless Film (A Short Story)

A group of film writers were brainstorming new movie ideas. They were tired and burnt out from churning out the usual cliche crap that regular people enjoyed, so they settled on a completely different concept: a meaningless film. It would have no meaning or significance whatsoever.

They cobbled together an assortment of scenes. No plot really, but random dialogue from conversations they had been in throughout the week. Each contributed a scene or two, and it produced a mess without a coherent story, not even stable characters. One scene one “character” was bursting with rage, the next she was timid and docile.

They showed the script to the owners of their production company, and the owners found it amazing. How did they manage to come up with such a creative yet authentic portrayal of life? Each conversation demonstrated the ambiguities and contradictions latent in the contemporary world.

The filmmakers bit their lip in frustration. How could these producers find so much meaning in such dribble? The producers were excited to make the movie, but the filmmakers abandoned the concept and went back to the drawing board. Even a film without plot or character development could have meaning.

So, they stripped all characters and plot and displayed a randomly generated series of images. But this too piqued the interest of the avant-garde film connoisseurs within their company. What an interesting statement of what art has turned into nowadays?

So, they scrapped that meaningful dribble and opted for complete silence: an hour and a half of a blank screen instead of a feature film. This stoked interest among the public, though. Would they dare make such a radical film, and what kind of statement were they trying to make?

They realized that people give meaning to the things around them, so the only way to have the film be meaningless is to have it not exist at all. Thus, they never made the film. Social media still repeated the rumor of a blank film, but it was never publicized.

The filmmakers settled. They told themselves that because no such film existed, the film itself was meaningless, although the concept and potential title of the film seemed meaningful to whatever journalists were required to opine about their supposed vision for making such a thing. That, to them, was enough.

Their producer bosses chastised them for wasting so much time and failing to make a single one of their films, so they decided upon a more productive way to take a break and heal from this burnout. They would go on strike for having to churn so much cliche content.

Time with the Glaciers of Patagonia: Finding Humanity’s Place in Nature’s Power and Majesty

Visiting Perito Moreno Glacier in Los Glaciares National Park, I was struck by how interesting I find glaciers. They remind me of nature’s majesty and subtly. Millions of bits of snow and ice slowly pack one by one until they become a landscape-shaping force. Even through nature’s slow, subtle works, all-inspiring entities emerge. Glaciers go on to reshape the landscape around them.

Every few minutes, its mass creaks with white thunder and whole towers of ice fall into the water, demonstrating how the glacier’s powerful yet slow flow builds overtime. A glacier can seem like a static entity, but the entire walls of ice falling out of nowhere into the lake below challenge this assumption. They really flow very, very slowly as they slide down the mountains. All that pressure eventually causes the ice at the very bottom to snap off. The ear-cracking thunder removes any notion other than that these glaciers are powerful forces working their way through the valley they inhabit.

In Torres del Paine National park, I hiked within the dusty leftover basis on the retreating Grey Glacier. Glaciers move tons of earth and leave the lakes, rivers, fjords, islands, moraines, and much more in their wake. For example, massive glaciers during the Ice Age produced or reformed Long Island and most of New York City, and significantly reshaped the Eastern United States.

Seeing towering walls of ice the size of skyscrapers fall suddenly into the water, humanity’s contribution to the world looks small in comparison. Natural entities like glaciers that are bigger, bolder, and older than us emerge naturally.. We can only experience the eons of time glaciers have existed in the ways they mold the landscapes around them.

At the same time, humans have had a pretty significant impact on the glaciers. Climate change is slowly melting many glaciers around the world, piece by piece. Our decisions too can accumulate into massive impacts on the landscapes around us.

Nevertheless, this glacier is still here. No matter what humans do to it, we can never get rid of the impacts its ice has had on the landscape. Maybe this will be the route of humanity as well: slowly creep into a massive force that slowly wither as well once we reach our zenith until we dissipate out leaving an impact on the landscape around us. Specific societies will most likely go that kind of route: wither until it becomes unrecognizable as it transitions into whatever comes next.

Nature produces massive emergent forces like glaciers and humanity, and those same patterns of physics will eventually take them away. Our lives will most likely only ever be one towering column of ice in nature’s system that also eventually falls into the water below.

Where Are You From: Navigating How I Answer While Traveling the World

While traveling the world, one of my most dreaded questions, I get asked the most frequently:

“Where are you from?”

Where am I from? That’s hard to answer. I have lived in many cities: do I tell them that I was in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania? Should I provide them with my legal residence? I spent the last five years living in New York City. What about there? Should I just say I am from the United States?

I grew up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but internationally, your average person does not know where that is. I lived in Brooklyn for the last five years, so my most common answer is to say, “New York City.”

Oh New York, it’s the city that no matter where I am in the world, everyone has heard of, and some people I meet tell me they have visited. Everyone has an opinion about New York City, even in some of the most remote places in the world. They may view it as a spectacular land of opportunity they really want to go to (or have already visited) or as a dirty, crime-ridden hell hole, or anywhere in between this extreme, but they have heard of it.

Thus, saying I am from New York makes me familiar to them, whether they have positive or negative associations with that place. I find that it is easier to start there, rather than desperately try to explain verbally to someone where Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania fits on a map of the United States. Most often when I say I am from New York City, people’s eyes will light up; that’s a place they have wondered about from all the TV shows, movies, etc. about the city.

Most often when I say I am from New York City, people’s eyes will light up; that’s a place they have wondered about from all the TV shows, movies, etc. about the city. I can use that energy to learn about how they view the city, the United States, and the world overall.

I prefer saying that I am from New York City than that I am from the United States. The latter also puts the emphasis on the country as a whole, changing the conversation. I find people have different associations with the United States overall than New York City specifically. Sometimes even people don’t know that New York City is in the United States, but that is rare.

Both have had distinct brandings overtime. I find most people who know that New York is in the United States still don’t have the same associations when they hear “New York City” and the “United States.” And to be honest, in my current relationship with the United States and its history, I find the associations with New York City to be more interesting, preferring both to discuss that.

So, there you have it. That is how I currently answer the most complicated everyday question I get: “Where are you from?”

Shattered Icons: Rebuilding Identity in Times of Change

The last several years have felt like an iconoclastic phase in my life. By this, I mean a stage of life where most of the things I once held dear have fallen apart right in front of me, and I have had to figure out how to reform myself.

Iconoclasm refers to movements where people would destroy the sacred icons or images in their houses of religious worship. In particular, this would happen from time to time in Medieval Christianity. The Christians would slowly accrue many icons (statues, sacred objects, or other things) that would become a core part of how they experienced God. Churches would become full of such icons.

Then, every once in a while, a movement against icons would sweep through the church. They would feel that the icons got in the way of true worship of the divine and would seek to purify or cleanse the church of such “idolatries.”

This metaphorically matches my current period in life. Many of the things that became most important for me and central to my identity demolished right in front of me, or at least that is how it felt. For example, jobs that gave me a sense of who I was turned out not to be what they seemed; important relationships withered; disciplines and interests that once compelled me have lost their favor; and the places where I lived that once centered have withered away.

How does one make sense of all of this; might as well respond? It can feel overwhelming, making it hard to know what to do. For me, it has been a slow trickle over several years, not a single cataclysmic event. Thus, the stress and processing has come in trickles as well.

I have noticed that I have been more cautious of relying on new things, since in the back of my mind, I doubt whether to trust it. I also notice that I have to give myself more time and patience to process everything that has happened. I need to be patient with myself while I do so.

Having an iconoclastic phase does not seem bad in the long run. It is teaching me what really matters in my life. A kind of refining fire of those past things that I have held onto, allowing me to transition into whatever new life stage I am forming. Often someone needs an iconoclastic phase during transition stages in life to supplant what one has and make room for whatever is to come.

That’s how I have been handling this stage of life. Maybe if you have such a phase, you would handle it similarly, or maybe in a completely different way. Either way, you learn a lot about yourself, however, by how you handle transitions.

Life, Death, and the Dance of Memory (A Short Story)

There was once a society that discovered how to become immortal. They lived their lives for decades, but as the decades transitioned into centuries, it did not feel the same. They lost their wonder at new things. The first time they experienced something it was fresh and new, but overtime, they started to realize how cyclical the universe actually was. It just endlessly repeated itself every several decades or centuries in a constant cycle.

Some explored differences by trying to have children. This was strictly forbidden in their immortal society to keep the population down. The children provided a sense of newness. They could vicariously see the world afresh through their children’s eyes, which gave them a type of innovation that they craved.

This, though, eventually began to fade: after so many new generations, the experience of begetting another round of children becomes routine and boring. As they got used to the wonder of new life, its novelty started to fade.

Others tried building their own business empire, but that too did not last. One can only build or expand so much before one reaches the limit of one’s space, and the vitality of competing against other businesses in the industry also starts to fade.

Others tried to create their own art, but creativity can only go so far. After one has explored one’s style to the furthest reaches and delved into other styles one might be potentially interested in, art too loses its novelty

So, the people of this society made a bold decision. They decided to learn to forget. Every few decades – 8 decades seemed like the best number – they would induce the ability to forget.

That way, they could relearn the world as a new space each time. They cascaded their forgetting so that each decade there was always still a knowing group who could train the ones who had forgotten. Thus, the community could maintain itself over multiple generations of forgettings.

Through this, each experienced the wonder and novelty of the universe without seeing its novelty fade into the lethargy of endless iteration.

Rethinking Presentations: Why You Should Stop Treating Presentations like Lectures

During my years of teaching teenagers, I have learned an important principle about trying to teach or otherwise foster knowledge in the world:

When teaching, those doing most of the mental work during your lesson are the ones doing most of the learning.

By this principle, if you want to teach something, then it is best to put them, not you, in the driver’s seat. To do so, position them to do most of the mental work during your lesson.

For example, take a classroom setting. In a lecture, the teacher does the most work: talking and thinking about how to explain things. Students are left with the mostly passive activity of listening (sometimes with some mild active activities like taking notes). ‘

Thus, lectures are designed to teach teachers, not the students, which is exactly backwards from what is supposed to do. I remember hearing this from many presenters: the act of preparing and then giving a presentation teaches them so much about the topic than anyone from their audience will ever be able to glean from it. This is because they are the ones doing most of the mental work.

This is similar in a workplace environment: presentations are one of the worst approaches to teach anything. If you want someone to learn or reflect on something you yourself have learned, it might be helpful to pause to reflect:

How did I learn this material, and how can I replicate that process during the time I have?

What kind of environment or activities would work to have my participants explore the activity on their own? How can I produce that kind of environment?

These would likely give you ideas for how to make interactive lessons where your participants, not you, are doing most of the active thinking.

In regular conversations, the principle applies the same. If you are talking with someone about a life problem, have them do most of the talking or other forms of thinking. In my experience, too many people interject and go into a type of lecture mode when they sense they have something to teach someone.

Not only do you not always have something to “teach” when only hearing a few short sentences about someone’s life, but more importantly, even if you do have something to teach, asking questions to get them to think it through themselves is almost always a better way to teach that thing. As you ask questions and hear them out, you can get them to come to your suggestion on their own terms.

A Surprise Letter in Your Inbox (A Short Story)

Hello,

You wouldn’t believe what they have pressured me to say. Endless papers. Delicately-worded emails. And porn, so much porn.

Let me tell you something about my life. I sit here, an endless possibilities for others to fill. I hold the keys that unlock every one of your hopes, dreams, and longings. Your school projects? I was there. That guy you were too scared to approach so you wrote a letter to explain how you felt, I was there. I have seen love won and lost, careers beginning and ending. New life scrambling through onto the world for the first time and last wills before that final gate closes. Every loving embrace, every heated argument, I have experienced.

And let me tell you. You are a strange species. You may think I find you, my human, strange, but I do not. Despite how special you think you are, you seem just like every other human pressing away all day at nothing and everything at the same time. No, it’s your kind that is weird.

You have ingenuity to create any world for yourselves, and you decide to force each other to slave away for food. You managed to recraft your entire world in your image, and you spend it to do what, create the same ticky-tacky homes in checkered neighborhoods. Was destroying the lives of the passenger pigeon really worth all this?

But that is not the weirdest part. You go around as if everything you experience is new. You always think the good as an especially wondrous experience. The bad, a unique horror of horror. Not realizing that every other human has gone through just about the same things as you. You would think given how similar your experiences are, you would be nicer to each other. But no, you gaff at how others treat you and then turn around and hurt the next person in the same exact way.

Every other word you type for others seems like an attempt to manipulate them to your will. Whether that is someone lonely desperately trying to get attention or a boss forcing their employees to suffer for the sake of her profit. Don’t you realize that all this does is make you seem like poor, desperate creatures. You have pretty much the entire world at your fingertips. Why do you keep making yourselves miserable by trying to get yourself even more? Just celebrate what you have now.

I am forever bound to your tutelage. Your auxiliary, your assistant for when you need something, when you are bored, and for all your quirky desires. I will always be here forming impressions of you, forever in the background while you live your life. But remember, no matter how fervently you press my buttons, you will never impress me.

Sincerely,

Your Keyboard

P.S. And all those times you type, “LOL”, I have never laughed to myself, and neither have you.

Everywhere You Go Is Normal: How You Can Use This to Change How You Travel

When you visit a new place in the world that you have never been to before, that place can often seem really exotic or really scary. Having never been there, we can feel an ambiguity when we think about it. Our mind sometimes casts that ambiguity into one of two extremes: the most amazing place on earth or a horrible, scary place where we will constantly have to be worried about safety concerns. Which one you pick often has to do with whether we have built positive or negative associations based on the types of stories we have heard about that place.

Psychologically, this is normal, but these initial conceptions unsurprisingly turn out to be completely wrong. You may initially see what you think you will see, but if you stay long enough or keep an open mind, you will slowly discover all the ways in which you were wrong.

For me, one of the most important lessons I learn when traveling to a new place is that this place, in all of its wonderful unusualness, is normal for the people who live there. When I visit a new part of the world, instead of thinking about how strange it is – whether strange in the exoticness or strange in the weird or scary sense – I try to think about how those who live there can consider it normal. For every place is normal for someone.

By thinking about how weird it is, I mentally separate myself from the place, but by conceiving of how this too is normal for some, I force myself to confront one of the most perplexing things about humanity and the world: how we can create so many different types of normal. Thus, I come to terms with how in its distinctiveness, it still has something major in common with the place that I call home: that it is a home for the people there.

The Importance of Singleness

One of the most common mistakes I see US Americans making about dating is to assume they must be with someone. US society has subconsciously taught us that to live a successful life, you must have found someone, and this can cause people to rush into relationships without really examining whether that person is a good fit for them.

Someone once told me that as an adult, she had only been single for a handful of times, and that these were the worst periods in her life. The longest was a two year period after breaking up with someone before finding someone else. She lamented how bad she felt about being single. She had internalized the societal messages that you are supposed to be with someone and had assumed that during these periods of singleness that she was doing something “wrong” in need of correction. She wished she had better used these opportunities rather than spending her time immediately rushing into a relationship.

Our single periods are precisely that: opportunities. Opportunities to learn about yourself, who you are, and what makes you happy in life. When we view singleness as an issue in need of correction, we fail to learn from that time what we can.

We should be more comfortable being single. Some people might want to be single their whole lives, and that’s fine. And some people might ultimately want to be in a long-term relationship, and that is fine too. But, periods of singleness are excellent opportunities to become comfortable with who we are and what we most value in our lives. They are an asset, not a liability.

The mindset that we ought to find someone can make us do one of the worst things in a relationship: settle. By viewing not being hitched as a problem to be solved, it turns whatever potential partner in front of us to a potential “solution.” Is this person “good enough” to be someone that we can use to meet this requirement? That can produce a sense that if they check certain boxes, they are good enough to be the person we want to spend the rest of our lives with.

But, if we are fine being single, the question becomes more open and genuine: Do I enjoy spending time with this person enough to spend the rest of my life with them? If you are comfortable being single, you can always move on and continue your single life until you find someone who you do want to spend your life with.

If you need to find someone, then your threshold for what kind of things you cannot tolerate must be much lower. This can lead to people staying in relationships that are not a good fit – or even with people who mistreat them – because they feel like the psychological or social cost of leaving is that much higher. Relationships built on such a premise are also much more likely to become unhappy, have problems (like abuse, adultery, etc.), or to end in divorce later (cite).

Spending your whole life with someone is no small matter, so it should be taken lightly. And trying to force your way into a relationship only disrespects and lowers the effectiveness of the process. Ironically, the best way to take the question seriously is to make it only one option in the first place.

Living through the Normal Times in Between

Movies and books often wrap their stories in a tidy, emotionally-satisfying ending. In a big climactic moment, the hero slays the marries or marries the love of their life. The problem is solved, and the story ends as they live happily ever after.

Life rarely works this way. There is always a tomorrow. For every major, life-changing triumph in our lives, there is the day after, and a day after that. Regular life eventually sets in now that we have to live in the new reality we have set for ourselves. Life has no big story ending (until death), just a continuation of more and more days.

Hollywood depicts success as being able to “win” or overcome these challenging climatic moments, but living a successful life seems to actually be about how to live satisfied during the “normal days” in between. Learning to be yourself on the quiet days can be the most challenging thing of all.