Ran Prieur

December 9.

2019-12-09T21:30:24Z

December 9. A year and a half ago, a fan and a cameraman came to make a film about me, and it's just been posted to YouTube, a short doc about Ran Prieur.

I was a little afraid to watch it, but I'm really happy with it. It's weird to see myself from the outside. It reminds me of that Far Side comic, where these two guys are listening to a tape recording of themselves, and saying, "Wow, we sound like total dorks." And the joke is, they are total dorks.

Another thing I noticed is how much happier I am when I'm talking about writing fiction. It's a lot more rewarding than writing this blog, but it's also a lot harder, and has an even smaller audience.

Now I'm thinking about fame. Our culture tells us that fame is an accomplishment, when really it's a lifestyle choice. The difference between the famous and the unknown, is not how good they are at what they do (except athletes). The difference is that some people channel their skill in a way that gives them shallow connections with a lot of people. And unless you're someone like Tom Cruise, I think that's a mistake.

Early in the doc I mention Emily Dickinson. I think, for an introvert, she did it exactly right: she wrote without compromising for an audience, she never had to deal with fame, and people are still reading her stuff two centuries later.

I don't think of my own writing as self-expression. I think of it as something that was always there, and I was just the first person to find it. It's like I'm colonizing a planet, and I'd like to eventually hang out with other people who have come to live there.

December 5.

2019-12-05T17:50:44Z

December 5. So I just tried the hot new apple variety, Cosmic Crisp, and they're for real. I've never been a fan of Honeycrisps. They're crunchy and sweet, but they lack the tartness and denseness of a great apple. The best eating apples are all russets, but you can't buy them in stores because their skins are not shiny. This actually goes back to Monday's subject: the bigger the crowd, the harder it is to get them to buy apples that are better on the inside than the outside.

But now, consumers don't need to be smart, because Cosmic Crisps are pretty on the outside, and dense and full-flavored on the inside. I just did a taste test against Fuji, which is no slouch, and it wasn't even close. They're also really expensive -- the other night I paid almost $10 for five of them. But in a few years, as the supply increases, prices will come down, and the Cosmic Crisp will drive a lot of varieties off the shelves.

Everyone knows the worst apple is Red Delicious, but a hundred years ago they were really good. What happened was genetic drift, reinforced by the values of industrial farming, so the apples got gradually cheaper to grow and ship, with worse flavor, but still pretty. The same thing might happen to Cosmic Crisp, and in another hundred years we'll need a new apple.

December 2.

2019-12-02T14:20:24Z

December 2. Smart blog post by a long-time reader, Idea strength, cringe, and the media environment. The basic idea is that technology has connected us so much that creative work is taking fewer risks:

When artists become more socially connected to each other and to consumers, bold choices get riskier. Every mind in a perceptual network is a vector for cringe. As the network grows more interconnected, the potential for cringe increases. An artistic risk that might have been low in a less connected environment becomes high.

This reminds me of a bit in this YouTube talk, Why Greatness Cannot Be Planned. It's by the creator of Picbreeder, a brilliant image-breeding site that no longer works because web browsers can no longer run Java. Anyway, he found out that images bred by individuals are much better than images bred by voting.

One of the comments explains it like this: "Consensus-driven frameworks prematurely optimize and miss the necessary low-fitness stepping stones needed to find creative complex solutions." In simpler language: you have to go through difficult stuff to get to good stuff, and the bigger the crowd, the harder it is to get them to go through difficult stuff. Another example is Hollywood test screenings, which polish out anything really good because someone thinks it's too weird.

But when I think about it more, there are two different things going on here. One is what I've just described, the blandifying effect of the crowd. The other is the long tail of taste: with more creative work available, there's more room to like stuff that fewer people like.

In listening to music, I've gone a long way down that rabbit hole, and the difficult thing is not in how I hear the music. It's not like I'm forcing myself to listen to stuff that sounds bad until I like it. The music always pulls me in, and the difficult thing is the loneliness of loving something that no one else understands. Or, the obstacle to exploring the long tail of taste, is not perceptual but social.