The Meaning of Life, according to A.C. Grayling

A.C. Grayling has rewritten the Bible. He's pretty confident in his opinions.

Photo via The Guardian.

In five minutes, philosopher A.C. Grayling offers an insightful and compact meditation on the meaning of life. Watch the video here. (I really wish I could embed the video, but alas, it's hosted on the New York Times website.)

If you're not convinced, here's an excerpt that gets to the heart of imbuing life with meaning and perspective: "It's up to you...Find something. Create something. Recognize the profoundly palliative character of love, of the human affections and friendship. And live with dignity. And when you do this, you find something -- and it sounds very simple and very glib but it's true -- that the meaning of life is to make life meaningful. That's a responsibility you have."

(You really should click through and watch the video, to get the full effect. Link again.)

His words remind me of a favorite quote from Annie Dillard: "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives." It seems so simple, but it can be hard, at the end of a long day, to cherish every moment, to steep the passing hours in significance, to do something other than collapse on the couch after work or class or rehearsal and watch bad reality TV while eating Nutella with a spoon, directly from the container. It's hard to feel as though one's accomplished work is enough. To reach beyond what's expected. It's easier to settle. To become anesthetized. To lose fire and passion. Are these not the individual's private philosophical concerns, the gateway drugs to depression and isolation? Humans weren't meant to be alone or depressed; we were meant to thrive and explore, to make connections.

Or maybe our purpose was to create the Internet, so that we could all post pictures of our cats, and then in 2012 the Internet will open up, screaming like a banshee, and swallow us whole, starting with the U.S. (including Alaska and Hawaii) and quickly followed by the rest of the northern American continent. South America will go next, hinged on the Panama Canal and unable to resist the pull of North America toward the depths of the earth. Europe, Africa, Asia, and Australia will eventually crumble and be engulfed. Greenland will meander, trying to dissociate itself from the real continents, but the sinkhole will get it eventually, submerging it, forcing it beneath the surface. Various island chains will be the last to go before the earth is left desolate, destroyed by our obsession with anthropomorphizing cats for not only Halloween, but every other day of the year too. Only Antarctica, a place that has never seen cats, will survive. A refugee camp will be established, and the human race will rebuild--

What? Cats have been visiting Anarctica since right after WWII? Well fuck. We're doomed.

Stephen Colbert at Northwestern last weekend

Northwestern alum Stephen Colbert gave the commencement address to the class of 2011 in Evanston last weekend. There are many, many great pull-quotes...

"[Northwestern] represents humanity at its best. And on Dillo Day, it represents humanity at its worst...today evidently armadillos are honored by drinking Four Loko out of a supersoaker while dancing to the New Pornographers in a drunken mosh pit filled mostly with National Merit finalists."

And it gets better. Totally worth the 20 minutes, I promise.

And if you can't get enough, check out this feature on Colbert from the winter 2010 Northwestern Magazine.

Go 'Cats!

Reality Bites, a mini-review

Nice tights, Janeane.

Speaking of twenty-somethings, I recently watched the cult classic Reality Bites, starring a young Winona Ryder and Ethan Hawke, with Steve Zahn, Janeane Garofalo, and Ben Stiller, who also directs. It's a healthy dose of early 90s culture, and though it fits the format of a standard romcom, its cult status is deserved. It's well-made and acted and it gets to the heart of the things that terrify 22- to 28-year-olds*.

It's about the romantic, despairing, and hopeless pursuit of a dream job; it's about the confusion of first loves and complicated friendships; and it's about trying to find a path to follow, whatever that may be. (I know, I know, cue the tiny violins, but stick with me.) The characters strive to reconcile their circumstances and their lifestyles while going through a time period that every self-aware adult recognizes. Coming out as gay, getting fired from a job (or twelve), experiencing amazing sex, getting that first taste of realistic success, suffering an AIDS scare -- even if these aren't our lives word for word, we can see the vibrations and understand where they're coming from. The breakdowns, the celebrations, the joy, the despair -- it's a 98-minute lyric poem.

I read Annie Dillard's The Writing Life this week for my revision workshop and pulled this quote from it: "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives." The simplicity of this statement just bowls me over. It's actually a beautifully freeing thing, because it implicitly awards the individual the choice of how to spend their time. It could have read "how we choose to spend our days is how we choose to spend our lives." Each day we're awarded 24 hours, and we spend them like currency -- this much on sleep, this much on work, this much on play, this much on dicking around and watching The Bachelorette on Hulu.

But those little choices each day build up, and as time passes they'll be what we remember because that's what actually happened -- not necessarily what we wanted or expected. So we seek this status quo, a state of being and set of habits, that will bring us the utmost happiness. For some that happiness is a secure job and a passionate love affair and a four-door sedan. For others it's a gypsy lifestyle, always on the move, always experiencing new things. There's no wrong answer, both the movie and Annie Dillard tell us, but you should probably at least be attempting to seek one out. You know, in your free time.

* I assume the quarter-life crisis will be over by 28. At least that's what I'm hoping, because I'm pretty sure the "I'm about to be 30" crisis will take over either way.

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UPDATE, 12:13 p.m. - So after posting this, I continued daydreaming and waxing philosophic about being 24 and yadda yadda, and I had a thought. An extension of a thought, really, regarding how we spend our time like cash at a farmer's market, handing it out in return for various satisfactions. Why waste time, then, doing something you don't like -- spending on things you don't care for? I understand that people work jobs they hate because they need the money and that couples stay together for the kids sometimes. But a vast majority of the time, there's no one forcing us to conduct our lives any which way. So why wait around, being unhappy? It's like wasting money -- except that money is replaceable whereas time is not.

Oh...my...God...could it be? Could they have been RIGHT ALL ALONG?!!



Happy summer, everyone.

Twenty-somethings: Choosing a Lifestyle

So many lifestyle choices, so little time.

A quotation from New York Times columnist David Brooks as the commencement speaker for the Brandeis University 2011 graduating class:

"If you are like most college grads, you will spend the next decade of your lives moving from city to city, school to school and from job to job experimenting with different careers and lifestyles," he said. "While you do this, by the way, your parents will slowly go crazy. Everything will be contingent and uncertain."

As Brooks adeptly points out, our generation -- that is, the people born basically in the 80's and now spanning the powerful 21 to 31 demographic -- is behaving differently. Part of it is a necessary reaction to the economy and the job market; we must be willing to move for jobs. We become transient. I, who was raised by transients who wandered a full 3,000 miles from their birthplace, have resolutely made myself a home in Chicago. I extol its wonders -- lovely parks, Midwest attitude, North Ave Whole Foods -- while continually discovering new joys (Lake Shore Drive running path) and setbacks (pee smell that permeates the loop in the summer). It's a big city and I'm young/hyperactive and I like it here.

I know in my heart I probably won't stay in Chicago forever. There's too much of the world to see. I may leave for a few years and then return for good -- I'd like that, actually -- but I belong to the generational mindset that home is where I charge my cell phone. It's that attitude that has allowed my peers and classmates to fling themselves around the world -- Amsterdam, London, the Ukraine, not to mention Atlanta and LA and Portland and so forth. This, our twenties, is the time for adventure and experimentation.

With my location settled for now, and as I hazily hobble toward some sort of career path as a grad student, Brooks would probably agree that I can focus on experimenting with lifestyles. It's like trying on costumes. Do I want to be a jock or a bookworm? Should I spend my lunch hour socializing or exercising? What statement does my hairstyle make? In what clubs and boards and music ensembles will my time investment be worthwhile? Is there a job I'd want where a tribal neck tattoo would be inappropriate; and if so, how about an eagle and the U.S. flag emblazoned across my back? These, I submit, are the important lifestyle decisions of the typical (that is to say, self-absorbed American) twenty-something: It's about how you spend your time and what image you're projecting to the world and how true a snapshot that is of who you really are. It's why we're all so obsessed with Facebook and Twitter; social media is another foundation for building and maintaining a reputation. It's like being in high school again, but with slightly less naïveté and hopefully better hair.

Why not?

This year I have two cousins graduating from high school, five siblings graduating from various elementary-age grades (my twin brothers just finished kindergarten!), and a handful of friends finishing up Bachelor's and Master's degrees. Meanwhile even more of us are still trudging along, sorting through term papers and auditions and manuscripts, the terminal diploma months or years or decades away.

But the toil is the equivalent of the journey, especially if that journey (studying writing) has no set destination ("writing the great American novel" is so twentieth century). So all there is left to do is apologize to our parents, promise them we're happy and well-adjusted and thriving no matter what lifestyle we're attempting this week, and ask them to pretty please mail just one more check. Last one, I promise.

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P.S. Completely unrelated, but you should check out my side-project with my buddy Kevin Rinz titled New Age Whitman. The summer blog/Twitter (@NewAgeWhitman) will culminate in a raucous drinking event in August. I'm really excited for the power trip that is ordering interns to reconstruct the eastern seaboard using empty Bud light cans. Follow along in the fun!

The Power of YouTube

As you read this, YouTube is shaping the future of the music industry. Somewhere, sitting on a Disney bedspread and munching on some brand of neon, processed American "nourishment," there is a seven-year-old child surfing YouTube and dreaming of being a rock star.

The 'Tube is taking place of the tube.

It's certainly not news that we're turning away from television and toward the Internet -- but how will that affect the iconic musicians of The Future? There are exponentially more resources available to each new generation. Can you imagine if Jimi Hendrix had lived in the '00s? (Or even past age 27?)

For the sake of The Future -- that is, the amorphous but finite stretch of time ahead until we club the planet over its metaphorical head and drag it into the depths of hell, summarily wiping out the human race (all inevitable) -- I hope the kids in the footie pajamas are idolizing guys like Jack White.

We're due for some new prodigies soon. And Justin Bieber definitely doesn't count.

On a personal note, it appears my Weezer era is drawing to a close, in favor of my blues rock era. Don't worry, Rivers. I'll be back.