FICTIONALIZED FUTURE IS BECOMING A FRIGHTENING REALITY

In the early 2010s, Beta was the word. All new disruptive technology claimed to be on beta mode, meaning constantly improving and learning, growing a bit every day. Never done, never finished.

“Perpetual beta," a term used by software engineers to indicate the process of releasing a software update at about 80% completion and then continuing to improve it based on incoming customer data, became essential for leaders given the rapidly changing world we live in. This mentality helped launch some of the most successful disruptive businesses of the decade, including Uber, Testa, and Airbnb. Some veterans also shared the same mindset, like Amazon and Facebook. 

Fast forward to Meta, Facebook Company's new handle. Meta is short for metaverse, which, according to Mark Zuckerberg, "is the next evolution of social connection and 3D spaces in the metaverse will let you socialize, learn, collaborate and play in ways that go beyond what we can imagine." (I'm getting Second Life vibes here)

From a constant technology disruption to virtual reality space, from Beta to Meta seems like a natural evolution.

This is the stuff that fictionalized future is made of. After all, speculating about how the future will look has always been one of fiction's favorite topics. Legendary and visionary artist David Bowie said once that “We were creating the 21st century in 1971”. So it's interesting to observe the narrative arch evolution in fiction over the late 20th to early 21st century. From Jetsons to Black Mirror, entertainment has offered viewers a wide range of possible future outcomes. Still, the narrative has shifted from an idealized 1950s lifestyle transported to another century to a dystopian world not too far away in the future. 

Watching creepy Zuckerberg announcing the endless possibilities of the metaverse gave me the chills. Not as much because of the dystopian undertones in his science fiction vision of the future, but mostly because of what's happening in the present. 

Recently Time magazine posted an article laying out the 5 most shocking revelations from the Facebook whistleblower. Among them, Facebook's own research indicates that the like button negatively impacted young users' well-being. However, Zuckerberg's company ultimately decided to keep it because they found out that removing it would decrease engagement. Together with the News Feed, share and like buttons are the core of what makes Facebook. 

According to Jane Lytvynenko, a senior fellow at the Harvard Kennedy Shorenstein Center, "The crux of the problem here is the infrastructure itself." In order words, what Facebook is known for and what makes it so successful is ultimately harmful to people. Now imagine Facebook on acid with virtual reality?

But if Facebook triggers a common negative trait on its users, and they are almost 1 trillion people worldwide, how can we fix this? And worse, for an entire generation, the 17 years old social platform has been decisive in shaping their interaction with the world since their most formative years. In other words, they are who they are also because of Facebook. So is it possible to even consider reverting it back to something they never knew before - a world where social media didn't exist?

According to Meta, the world is about to change again, propelled by another technology leap into the future. So, there's no point in looking back and glorifying how it was before. Nostalgia won't take us anywhere. There isn't a world without Facebook, and for better or worse, mankind has been fictionalizing the future long enough that it started to become real. But now that Pandora's box has opened, the question is, what are we going to do next? But one can also wonder, has social media and Big Tech become the scapegoat of all the evil in the world? 

Tech giants, such as Facebook, Amazon, and Google are poorly regulated by governments. Most governments, in fact, rely on their technology and expertise, from satellite systems to national security. Venturing beyond their core digital products and services and into real-world and expanding into fields once owned solely by governments, including defense, diplomacy, citizen services, and public infrastructure. Big Tech became "net states."

This is no fiction; this is the reality today. And as much as tech giants aren't all evil, they certainly don't look very friendly right now.

In his 2017 book “Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow”, historian and best-­selling author Yuval Harari, says "in the end, it's all a question of authority. A thousand years ago you'd turn to the church. Today, we expect algorithms to provide us with the answer—who to date, where to live, how to deal with an economic problem. So more and more authority is shifting to these corporations."

With fiction becoming a reality, It looks like we are living on the first part of The Matrix saga, and the choice we have in front of us is which pill we are going to take. Both of them seem hard to swallow.

IS SILENCE MY ONLY FRIEND?

I often think I was prepared for COVID from an early age. Growing up as an odd child with a severe case of bronchitis, a bad back, and a bunch of other things that were poorly assembled at the factory, from the get-go, I got used to being a loner.

So when the pandemic lockdown stroke, loneliness wasn't on the top of my worries. Thinking that things were going to get way worse, like in catastrophic proportions, my biggest concern at the time was purely survival. By 2020’s fall, after witnessing the winter/fall death toll, the social turmoil, and the economic downfall, I started to feel I was close to losing my mind altogether.

Luckily, I escaped from NYC in January and had the privilege to relocate to an island in the Gulf of Mexico. It was a close call to my sanity, but daily walks at the beach at sunset could do only this much healing. The damage was pretty much done by then, and imagining a social life similar to normal seemed impossible. Although I was putting long remote working hours, I started to enjoy my increasingly cocooned life, surrounded by a few close people (count them in one hand) and the comfort of just watching spectacular sunsets every day.

Back in NYC in the summer, I felt like an alien. The midst of desolation combined with the early attempt at a comeback crashed hard with my isolationist spirit. I longed to see my friends and the city I love, but the changes were so dramatic – within myself and the city too- that I honestly couldn't wait to get the hell of there.

Fast forward to a sunny Sunday afternoon sitting at my balcony in CDMX, I feel anxious to travel and see the world again. I'm curious about my friends' lives, and I wonder how it will be to meet them again. But thinking of it made me realize that it might not be a re-encounter; it might be like meeting for the first time. That's because I got used to my own company, always entertained by my own thoughts or taken by work, that it seems strange to imagine a life where you can just text a friend and say: let's meet for a drink!

But here's the catch: being used to be on our own doesn't only take the instant connections we make at an impromptu meeting for a coffee or drink with a friend away. Isolated with our thoughts and exchanging with the world only through the news, social media, and conference calls leave us without feedback. It's as if we are in a continuous dialogue with ourselves inside our heads, and the only thing we can hear back is the echo of our own thoughts. We are left in the darkness, and the only thing we can hear from the other side is the undisturbed sound of silence.

It reminded me of a Roland Barthes's 1977 "Lovers Discourse" book quote saying: "Cannot friendship be defined as a space with total sonority?". The sound of a friend's voice translates more than warmth and recognition; it amplifies our dialogue with the world, and instead of creating an echo chamber, it actually offers numerous other possibilities of understanding. So where would we go, and who are we without feedback?

As I look to the world outside, cocooned safely at my balcony, I contemplate the voices I can't hear and imagine a world where I have no control and events happen freely and spontaneously again. I long for a world where people won't agree with me, and yet my opinion is still relevant. A world where an exchange can change people's minds and positively affect the course of life.

DAVE CHAPELLE DOESN'T KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SEX AND GENDER

On his Netflix special, team TERF's – Trans-exclusionary Radical Feminist – comedian Dave Chapelle said that this particular group of women look at transgender the way black people look at a black face. "Oh, this bitch is doing an impression of me.", that was Chapelle's impression of his fellow TERF's reacting to trans women.

Watching it, I was trying to believe Chappelle had been unfairly canceled up to this point. But that's when he lost me completely. Trans women are not trying to make an impression of ciswomen. To begin with, they are not on stage. Unless you call their life the stage where they perform 24/7 non-stop to an ignorant audience like er... Chapelle himself.

The comedian wants people to believe he is a feminist and has nothing against trans or LGBT community even though they are the butt – pun intended – of many of his jokes. But when he starts to defend Jk Rowling's statement that gender is a fact, things begin to get messy.

So,I went to Webster, just like Chapelle said he did to find out he was a feminist– yeah, he said that – looking for a definition of what gender is, and here is what I found: Gender is a subclass within a grammatical class (such as noun, pronoun, adjective, or verb) of a language that is partly arbitrary but also partly based on distinguishable characteristics (such as shape, social rank, manner of existence, or sex) and that determines agreement with and selection of other words or grammatical forms.

Oh boy, that is very wordy. I prefer this much simpler definition from WHO – World Health Organization: Gender refers to the characteristics of women, men, girls, and boys socially constructed. This includes norms, behaviours and roles associated with being a woman, man, girl or boy, as well as relationships with each other. As a social construct, gender varies from society to society and can change over time.

Chapelle's point defending that gender is a fact is because we all are born from a vagina. He compares ciswomen and trans vaginas, concluding that the latter is equivalent to an impossible whopper. Not the real thing, he tried to point out. Yea, bad joke.

First, it's kind of odd that he took the time to search online feminism, but he didn't google gender. But a 48 years old man looking for self-education deserves all support and cheers in the world. However, he could have spent a little more time in his quest for knowledge online.

Secondly, unwilling, though, he makes a case for what's wrong with people, celebrities or not, who want to talk about other people's identities and sexuality. They are, as the majority of us, complete ignorants on the matter.

He didn't know nor took the time to discover that sex and gender are not the same. Sex refers to a person's physical characteristics at birth, and gender encompasses a person's identities, expressions, and societal roles. Therefore, a person may identify with a gender different from their natal sex or with no gender at all. However, when it comes to giving birth, only people of the female sex can do it. That's because sex is a trait that determines an individual's reproductive function, male or female, in animals and plants that propagate their species through sexual reproduction. It took 0.74 seconds for google to offer me this answer on the top of the search results.

Chapelle says he has been targeted by transgender people who don't understand he has nothing against them, only white people. But, coming from someone who had his entire life dealt with issues related to being a minority, he should know better the sensitivities most of the times ignored by the vast white majority – the cisgender white majority, to be more objective. It proves that ignorance has no discrimination of race or gender identity. Stupid and ignorant people come in a rainbow of colors.

In the end, he is just a product of the environment and society he grew up in: a race-fractured and polarized country, not much different than many others around the world. So Chapelle shouldn't be canceled. Instead, he just needs to devote more than 3 seconds in his search for education.

ALL OF IT IS YOU

The other day had an unnecessary and intense argument with my partner. While we kept quartered in our sides, still processing the anger and the harsh words exchanged at the heat of the moment, I began thinking of the baggage we carry on our shoulders through life. 

It seems we are constantly picking up more trash along the way and rarely finding a proper place to dispose of them. So instead, we end up using moments of conflict to dump on each other all the heaviness humping on our backs.

As a society, we don't do much differently. We keep taking in and absorbing each blow life gives us, and as if we are enduring a torture test, we move on, pushing the limits of the stress we can take. Then a harsh word, one inappropriate comment, or careless actions, can blow out all the nastiness taken from life, often generating a useless outburst of gigantic proportions. It seems there's no way to heal. Ever.

I wonder what it takes for us to reset? Because it seems that sometimes the wound goes much more profound than a sincere apology can fix it. The scars made through life run so deep that even we develop an awareness of them and genuinely regret what has been said or done in the past, it is not enough to scrape them off from our hearts and minds. Instead, they have reprogrammed our experience and memories in a way that they become part of us, surreptitiously dictating our actions without us noticing it. And even if we try to squash them before they begin to linger in, it seems we are never quick enough. 

Still debating internally about moving from awareness to healing, I looked for comfort and insight in music.

In his 2014 Art Official Age album, Prince, the legendary prolific singer, and musician tapped on self-help, artificial intelligence, and mindful awareness in this sci-fi-inspired narrative. The power of Prince's lyrics is that while admittedly sometimes cheesy and cliche, the message is ultimately profound. Like this part of the song Affirmation III: "You've probably felt for many years in your former life that you were separate from not only others but even yourself. Now you can see that was never the case. You are actually everything and anything that you can think of. All of it is you."

What I took from this song's lyrics it's that the world around us is ultimately a reflection of all inner state. Yea, it sounds like a conventional spiritual spiel. Maybe it's, but the most significant insights often come from incredibly banal things.

Suppose we start dealing with our internal wounds first? In that case, we may ignite a genuine healing process within ourselves and with the people around us. We spent so much time in our lives calling out people for their mistakes and then blaming them for all the world's misery that we often forget we are all hurt. We always ready to judge others, but unwilling to take responsibility for the mess we made. It’s time to start updating culture, instead of wasting time canceling people. Reset, reboot, update. Let the healing process begins.

People hurt people all the time. And only in the last 2 decades of the 21st century we have witnessed the extent we can hurt each other fueled by ignorance, resentment, entitlement, and intolerance. 

Today we say we live in a global village; however, we don't know our neighbors, and we are often afraid of them. Ignorance and fear are such a combustible combination. Speaking of carrying heavy baggage, these two only are enough to create chaos when ignited. But the relief produced by the explosion can only leave us in emptiness. But look around; we live on a tiny pale blue dot in the void, yet, including the void, all of it is us.

I'm sharing these thoughts, but I don't have an answer on how to jump from wondering how things could be better for us as a community to actually promoting change. But while I'm seeking answers, I'm also looking for connection. So, perhaps, connecting with people as human beings could be the first step to healing.

As for my husband and me, we are actually doing well. We both know it's a journey, and we are happily willing to share this path. One step after the other. 

THE STUNTMAN ERA TAKES OFF

In marketing, a publicity stunt is a planned event or something unusual designed to attract people's attention to a particular brand, product, or organization. In Modern advertising, it can also mean a one-off created by an advertising agency to be submitted to an award show. Advertising stunts have become quite popular at award shows since the 2000s.

At first, traditionalist ad people sneered at stunts, accusing them of not addressing a particular client's briefing or business challenge. However, others viewed them as a way to express creativity free from clients' tight and limiting briefings. Soon, they got traction, and everybody joined the bandwagon.

Finding its golden age with the evolution of social media-powered viralization, stunts transcended from the realms of advertising and public relations into pop culture. 

The most important metric in today's society is popularity, and nothing better than clever stunts to rank trending topics. Being a one-off doesn't matter; after all, trending topics change in the speed of light. Like news cycles, they are designed to stick as long as the next. 

As a natural result, stunt people started to pop everywhere, even forging a new type of business persona. Following Richard Branson's steps, a stuntman trendsetter, Elon Musk soon realized the importance of creating tricks to get people's attention and promote his disruptive business and often questionable personal brand.  

"Elon Musk just launched our earthshaking new adventure" – this is a 2018 actual CNN headline – and it is a perfect example of how Musk got the world's attention to Tesla and Space X at in one single stroke. 

On a side comment, watching the Testa Roadster playing Bowie's "Starman" on the speaker might have sounded clever, but David Bowie deserved better.

What might have looked like a stroke of genius could possibly have been inspired by another previous famous stunt.

In 2013, in the Red Bull's Stratos brand activation, the Austrian skydiver Felix Baumgarten jumped from a balloon from the edge of space. The highly successful marketing PR stunt – 9.5 million people viewed it live on YouTube – went on to win a Sports Emmy® Award in the category of "Outstanding New Approaches Sports Event Coverage." It was an exciting crossover from being a natural contender to an advertising festival to winning a coveted National Academy of Television Arts and Science award. 

The seed was planted; marketing stunts are newsworthy, and advertising content is as good as any other entertainment content. It is a dramatic shift to how brands can play in the news and entertainment arena. It highlights the brands' increasing power to influence the news, business, and popular culture. 

Last week Jeff Bezos – who is in a highly publicized competition with Elon Musk for the world's richest man position and 21st space maverick – entered the Stunt arena with a blast.

"William Shatner, 90, Set to fly with Jeff Bezos" said the Daily Beats last week, announcing the billionaire's Blue Origin New Shepard rocket launch. Shatner, the Star Trek icon, boldly went where no man has gone before while simultaneously beaming up Bezos to the top of the news.

It wasn't Bezos's first foray in the stunt space, thought. 

"Jeff Bezos went to space, and all we got was this cowboy hat," it was the Seattle Times' headline last July about the New Shepard capsule launch. The New York Times said, "When Jeff Bezos flew off in his rocket, he became the international (interstellar?) symbol of the male in midlife crisis." Jamiroquai, the original space cowboy, might have cringed.  

The widespread backlash was immediate. Some accused the billionaire of being tone-deaf for spending millions of dollars on his joy ride while the world is still struggling with the effects of a global pandemic. Others simply couldn't resist making fun of the rocket's eh... curious shape. Someone said on Twitter, "Men will literally launch themselves into space in a penis rocket instead of going to therapy."

With a combined network of over 400 billion dollars– it is disturbing to watch them engaging in a public competition for the world's attention. But it is worse to think that that type of publicity is actually good for business. Apparently, it is. Bezos's wealth has increased by $79.4 billion since 2020. The Tesla and SpaceX chief's net worth has skyrocketed an incredible 540%, from about $27 billion in early January 2020 to more than $170 billion in April 2021. To put things in perspective, to prevent the next pandemic, studies show it would cost $22 billion a year. It is a stark contrast to the $79 billion Bezos amassed only in 2020. Worth mentioning that according to IRS records, both billionaires have a history of avoiding paying federal taxes. Speaking of pulling a stunt!

But their public match is the ultimate stunt. And Bezos and Musk's stunts have succeeded in attracting the media's attention and increasing their businesses value. But although it's entertaining to watch two grown-up men regressing to a juvenile size competition, it is sad to see that the richest men in the world publicly acting like buffoons. Well, we joke about them, and they pass the hat. It isn't very uplifting; instead, it looks like they are taking off while we are all going down.

THE AGE OF IGNORANCE

Not long ago, and not so far away, getting an education was essential to becoming an accomplished human being. Not only as a means to an end – having a profession and making a good living and so on– acquiring knowledge, more than formal education, was the real game-changer; and even more, it was a life's purpose. Knowledge, to use a more current value, was cool once.

But much has changed since then. The world has become interconnected, and once we had the opportunity to exchange knowledge in scale, things took a different turn. Instead of elevating the conversation, social media turned everything into a non-stop water cooler chat. Basically, we lowered everyone's bar. The digital social media-powered society leveled us to the lowest expression on human exchange: gossiping, narcissism, and passing judgment. 

The millennium and Gen Z generation, who haven't experienced the world differently, learned culture through Google and copy/paste. Then the likes came making things simultaneously more shallow and polarizing. Feeding our constant narcissistic hunger, likes became a measurement of popularity and entertainment. The more entertaining, the more popular we became. And when we don't have much to share but what's is going on in our own belly buttons, social media became, like Laurie Anderson would say, a platform for people screaming loudly, "Look at me! Look at me!".

Ten years ago, I read Neal Garber's amazing "Life: The Movie: How Entertainment Conquered Reality"– if you want to have an idea of how we got here, this book is a must. So, after finish reading the 244 pages book, what was the first thing that I did? I posted this quote on Facebook:

"We have become information narcissists, so uninterested in anything outside ourselves and our friendship circles or in any tidbit we cannot share with those friends that if a Marx or a Nietzsche were suddenly to appear, blasting his ideas, no one would pay the slightest attention, certainly not the general media, which have learned to service our narcissism. "

Facebook reminded me of this post last week. And it made me realize that while Gabler's was totally on point, back then I thought things were already reaching a tipping point. I was wrong.

Fast forward to 2021, Americans spent more than an average of 1,300 hours on social media, according to a new study from Uswitch. It's the equivalent of 54 entire days! Of course, one can argue that since last year the pandemic pressured us to increase our screen time, but still, it's a staggering number anyway. 

On the positive side, social media helped people to get more engaged in activism too. Covid-19, the death of George Floyd, and an upcoming presidential election were just a few of the things that have called Americans to action, making 2020 the summer of protest, both online and offline.

But while social media helped to get people more engaged on social issues, that doesn't mean they are more knowledgeable about social topics. Also, social movements fueled by social media are not new. The Arab Spring and the Occupy Wall Street movements occurred in the early 2010s, making them the predecessors of the 2020s progression into digital activism. The most significant criticism to the Occupy movement was the lack of a clear agenda. To many people, fair or not, it looked like a bunch of kids protesting for the sake of it only. Similar criticism was extended to the people trying to look cool while live streaming on Instagram from the Black Lives Matter marches and celebrities posting inspirational quotes supporting the movement. It looked disingenuous self-promotion.

The problem seems to be the past. Not the memory of a more challenging time, instead, the absence of it. Millennials and Gen Z have no recollection of the social movements and the cultural, economic, and political turmoil of the late 60s and early 70s. And what they've learned in school was copied and pasted from Google to pass exams. Therefore, there's no acquiring or knowledge retention. 

So how do we learn from it without experience, memory, or fundamental understanding of what happened in the past? And how can we imagine a different future if we can't learn from the mistakes of the past?

No wonder a decade after Occupy Wall Street, connected as ever before, society hasn't achieved substantial gains on social matters. In fact, we have regressed. The 1% only got richer – look at Musk and Besos fortune growth over 2020 – and the right wave wing that took over the planet in the 2010s only contributed to global social and economic disparity.

While we have been entertaining ourselves and feeding our narcissistic hunger for attention, the world has become shallower and more ignorant. And because of it, increasingly more dangerous.

It is very timely that last week the Facebook whistleblower has disclosed evidence that social media network is just as toxic as we thought– The New Yorker called it The Moral Bankruptcy of Facebook.

While I write this and plan to post it on Facebook, I'm thinking of the irony and hypocrisy of doing so. I feel somehow defeated as I wonder if the only way out is opting out of society altogether? But I'm forcing myself to try to learn something out of this. I still believe that knowledge is the real game changer.

KIM IS NO KAREN – AND THAT'S WHY IT IS HARD NOT TO LIKE HER

The problem with the Kardashian family is… Well, there are so many that we don’t know which one to start with. But if there's one thing that we need to praise, they have a good sense of humor. And no one else is better to remind us of it than the one and only Kim Kardashian.

Last week social media went bonkers with Kim Kardashian’s first time hosting SNL. She kicked off the show by delivering a monologue that drove viewers wild with excitement. Praise was all over the social media chatter, and they were 100% right. The influencer turned cosmetic and fashion mogul delivered the goods. And no one was safe. I mean, NO ONE!

Kim performed other four other live scenes too. Of course, in one of them, she found an opportunity to bring some members of the Kardashian klan: momager Kris and desperately-seeking-for-fame-while-pretending-to-be-genuine Khloe. In one sketch, Kim played the role of Kourtney, which was kind of sketchy because it looked like it was her way to keep Kourt out of the court – sorry couldn't resist. Kim also was clever enough to use SNL to promote her highly successful shapewear line Skims, making the final sketch all about it. Always a businesswoman.

But the most important take out from Kim's appearance was on her monologue. While hilariously roasting her family, Kim claimed she is no Karen. Kim isn't a “white woman seeming to be entitled or demanding beyond the scope of what is normal”– Karen's most common definition. Instead, Kim's public persona is kind of the opposite. Chill and cool, she isn't entitled at all. She is no gold digger, too – mocking on her opening monologue she had to ask tips on how to be a gold digger from her mom's boyfriend, Corey. Kim Kardashian made her own money, and she made a lot of money! Her fortune is estimated to be 1 billion dollars. A staggering amount of wealth that was built over 20 seasons of her reality show, social media-powered product endorsement and collaborations, celebrity appearances, a successful shapewear brand, and a 3 billion dollar deal with global cosmetic brand Coty. The once most googled woman in the world who broke the internet, as controversial as she still is, has polished her act well over the years. From the shallow party girl Paris Hilton's sidekick and sex tape star, to an accomplished businesswoman and prison reform activist, she helped reshape the 21st-century women's look. In so many ways.

However, it's impossible to ignore her tremendous negative effect on women's body image by promoting on Instagram an impossible look to obtain. Constantly sharing her glamorous and wealthy lifestyle, she often sounded tone-deaf, to say the least, too. But if she looks utterly unrelatable on one side, she comes off as like a regular person on the other side. In many ways detaching herself from the original pack, Kim forger herself a new public image – she obviously was clever enough to surround herself with a savvy support team too. But, of course, Kanye has a lot to do with it, and she always finds an opportunity to acknowledge it. She also acknowledged on SNL, that she divorced him because of his personality. We can relate to that too.

Last week on SNL, Kim presented her best side to the world – ok, maybe her second best. But anyway, unlike Karen, Kim is a proud and confident non-white woman who knows where she comes from, who isn't ashamed of it and is willing to have a laugh about it with us. 

I always hated the expression "laughing all the way to the bank" because it's the most negative declaration of American capitalism; it doesn't matter what you do as long you make money. But the Kardashian clan spun it, chewed on it, and then shamelessly regurgitated it out to the world's entertainment. However, if the judgment is still open if they will have the last laugh, for the average American woman who might still be dreaming of being financially independent and having full ownership of her own body, Kim Kardashian sets herself as a very important empowering figure. If it’s disingenuous and self-serving or not, truth be told, her audience doesn't care at all.

While society is still reckoning its role in mocking Britney Spears' challenges and contributing to her psychological public meltdown, Kim offers an entirely different take on the burdens of public life. After all, she made a fortune, and created an empire, by basically sharing her life for public consumption. Like she said on SNL, she is used to 360 million followers watching her every move making the 10 million SNL audience for her a chill, intimate night. Laughing about themselves and banking on it is key to the Kardashian brand– how else could they have survived?

Considering the obstacles women face to survive in a male-dominated society, we have to admit that for an Armenian-American-non-Karen woman to achieve so much–and still be willing to laugh about herself– is refreshing and an achievement in itself. So, looking from this perspective, it's kind of hard not to like Kim.

EVERYBODY WILL BE CANCELED FOR 15 MINUTES

As a regular idiosyncratic person, I'm full of contradictions. For one, I struggle with posting my opinion in the social media sphere because I don't want to add to the endless over-sharing of polarizing opinions. And yet, here I'm writing this blog. 

I think I'm a walking target to cancel culture, and I believe I haven't been canceled yet only because of my irrelevance. However, I have been misunderstood many times because of my many all-human contradictions. Being misunderstood, or sometimes flatly ignored, is what you get when people don't know what to do about you or get anything out of it.

But trouble starts when you stop being ignored. People always seek some sort of confirmation before deciding to take a position. If the "right people" hit the like button, their followers will do the same. If they leave a hate comment, for sure more will come! 

To me, that's how "cancel culture" starts. One day, entirely by chance, someone finds a post from another individual, who may have been once relatively famous but left to oblivion since then. This post, written in a different time and context, suddenly is propelled to notoriety, and bang! The cancel culture machine is triggered and the poor fellow, who was pretty much forgotten, is again infamously famous. So what was the post about? It can be anything, but it usually is a stupid and unsolicited joke or remark about a film, celebrity, or whatever.

Of course, sometimes it is a more significant transgression, or it comes from a well-known bully who received a free pass in another time but now is taking the hit of the cultural shift. I'm thinking of people like some famous chatty so-called supermodel or reality star turned politician– you know who they are. Bullies should not be tolerated for sure, but calling out and canceling people won't promote understanding or healing.
Like Prof. Loretta J. Ross wrote in her 2020 article in the New York Times, "calling out assumes the worst. Calling in involves conversation, compassion, and context. It doesn't mean a person should ignore harm, slight or damage, but nor should she, he or they exaggerate it."

There will always be bullies and haters. Still, my point is nobody is safe in a society that, while going under its own reckoning, it's willing to burn their "witches" in public as an act of contrition.

We all make mistakes, and these days we all make mistakes in the most public way possible. Our footprint is out there, living receipts that anyone can bring up and rub to your face at any point. And our innate contradictions that once expressed perhaps the moment or the stage of evolution of our own personalities now can haunt us to eternity. 

We are living in a moment when much has been said about minorities finally breaking the ceiling. But little has been said about everybody's glass ceiling. As a result, throwing stones at other people's glass ceilings became a form of entertainment, or sometimes worse, the means of self-promotion. People are eager to be noticed; one hate post might be one step away from social media notoriety. It's just like a twist to Andy Warhol's prophetic statement about being famous for 15 minutes. Today, it seems more like everybody will be canceled for 15 minutes. Or longer.

RUNWAY TO NOWHERE

Kate Moss and Amber Valletta strutted the catwalk at Milan's fashion week once again, this time headlining the collab between Versace and Fendi - Fendace. The 90s supermodels, now almost in their 50s, runway moment, was praised by the press and labeled by the social media chatter as iconic. Indeed, middle-aged and young models' cast mix seems to showcase a historical shift in beauty and age perception in an industry famous for promoting specific standards. But it also points out a fascinating and disturbing end of a cycle, and perhaps of an era. 

Fashion - and haute couture - haven't always been pop. In the 90s, when supermodels became a global phenomenon, fashion became "in fashion" like never before. Due to the increased availability of the Internet and satellite television outside the United States, plus the reduction of import tariffs, Fashion became more globalized and homogeneous in the late 1990s and early 2000s. But nothing helped to propel it to the global pop stardom than MTV and George Michael's Freedom 90 music video. 

The music video, directed by David Fincher, featuring a star-studded casting of famous fashion models - Linda Evangelista, Naomi Campbell, Christy Turlington, Cindy Crawford, and Tatjana Patitz - became instantly part of pop culture. Overnight, the models' attitudes shifted people's perception, and being a model became synonymous with being smart and an entrepreneur. Linda Evangelista famously said then, "I don't get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day." Supermodels became money-making celebrities. But, more than that, their fame helped forge the look and beauty standards that women would follow for decades. Reflecting on the video in 2015, Crawford said that, at the time, they thought they were simply making "a really cool video." Still, in retrospect, the video marked a dramatic shift: MTV had altered the music industry so that physical beauty became then essential to sell music. That shift influenced not only pop music but culture and beauty playbooks for generations to come.

Fast forward to Fendace, when Moss and Valetta walked the runway together with veterans like Kristen McMenamy, Shalom Harlow, and Naomi Campbell, among other fresh and old-timer's faces. Fendi and Versace attempt to stay current with the collab trend and cash in on the global logomania, also echos the Versace's spring/summer 2018 show headlining the original Freedom 90 cast - minus Linda Evangelista – and the Spring 2020 show close with Jennifer Lopez wearing that dress.

It's fascinating watching Donatella Versace's 90s revisionist take on the heydays of Fashion while the world is now living another revisionist moment. And it is refreshing seeing two gorgeous mature models walking the runway– being still professionally active in an industry that not long ago was mainly made of teen girls glammed up to look like grown-up women. But there is also something profoundly disturbing watching them walking back and forth– piercing eyes, pouching lips, fierce attitude, and all– along the catwalk showcasing expensive garments that are unobtainable to most people.

Yeah, times have changed, but I'm wondering, are fashion shows still relevant?

Broadly, Fashion is a living representation of self-expression and of a period, place, and in a specific context, of clothing, footwear, lifestyle, accessories, makeup, hairstyle, and body posture. Unfortunately, the fashion industry is also one of the major polluting industries globally, massively contributing to the environmental collapse and its disrupting effects that we are experiencing today. Fashion is indeed a living snapshot of the world we are living in.

The fashion industry as we know has changed since the 90s, perhaps not enough to really catch up with the current time yet. Still, fashion shows, in particular, haven't aged as well as the Fendace’s supermodels. Looking at Amber and Kate on the runway wearing garments made of an explosion of Versace's roman themes and Fendi logo, to use an expression from the Fashion vernacular, looked passé.

Looking at them strutting the runway made me think that there's a fine line between revisiting, perhaps reshaping, history and trying to relive a glorious past.

Coming out and simultaneously still living a pandemic and a tumultuous time in history, it's a relief to see that beauty standards can be reshaped. But looking at these women walking the exact steps they’ve walked for decades leaves a bittersweet taste in the mouth. They came this far, yet their walk towards the sizzling glare of flashlights, wearing unaffordable clothing, looked frivolously and empty. Watching them made me wonder where are they going? Where are we going?

AFTER-PARTYING BEFORE THE END

"I'm constantly scared. It's not an exaggeration. I know that after COVID happened, it made us all afraid of getting sick and of an economic collapse. The vaccine provided a well-needed relief, but I honestly can shake off the feeling that something terrible might happen at any moment. And it is for a reason: the nonstop fury and vitriol exchange of a highly polarized world combined with the evident signs of environmental decline keeps me constantly on edge. Call it PTSD or whatever, but after those somber dystopian days of 2020 lockdown, I never could sleep the same."

That's when I noticed that I had completely lost my audience. The boom-boom music was pounding loud, the place was crazy packed, and I was obviously in the wrong mood- and place. I looked around, searching for a pair of eyes to connect to, but there was none. I sighed and looked at my empty glass, wondering if it was a good idea to fill it up again.

"_ Could you pass me the bottle of champagne, please?" The question slowly broke through the barrage of sounds and hit my left ear. I looked to the side and saw this kid pointing to the bottle on my right with his empty flute. For a moment, I found myself thinking he was probably too young to drink, then I chuckled, realizing, "who cares." So I passed the bottle without even looking at him while inside I cried: "Oh my God, I'm officially too old!", followed by "How did I get here?"

I jumped up, ready to stretch my legs all the way to the balcony, only to realize halfway into the dance floor that I didn't know if there was a balcony at the club. I desperately needed a cigarette, so I decided to elbow my way through the crowd all the way to the elevator. All that rubbing elbow with celebrities was getting on my nerves, and that Gen Z posse was way more than I could bear for a minute, a month, a decade. Who am kidding, for a lifetime! Squeezing myself among their skinny and toned bodies, I managed to find a pathway out of the bar.

Three billionaire upper east girls were drooling all over a tall black dude wearing some sort of patchwork blanket wrapped around his body. I thought he looked like a homeless thug who got lucky and found some cover in a dumpster. Still, I was aware of my infinite ignorance about fashion, pop celebrities, and political correctness. So I left them behind while having another reality instant checking with age.

Somehow I got lost trying to get to the elevator and had to fight my way out of the packed DJ booth worshiping area. I overheard the new Leo in-the-making saying to what looked like a journalist, an influencer, or a fan: "Hosting is easy, man." I rolled my eyes, acknowledging that I definitely didn't belong there. I was saved from total despair when I spotted the smoking deck. "There's a smoking deck!" I cried out loud, excited. "Yeah, bro, after the restrooms, that's where the party is actually happening" said this black muscled kid passing by who was obviously having a kick with my oasis vision discovery. I chose to ignore him, but not before noticing he was wearing a very tight and revealing mesh bodysuit. I laughed, thinking to myself, "there's a lot to unpack here!" before reaching the over crowed "who-is-who" smoking deck.

"I don't fit here," it seemed I finally had a breakthrough, as I accepted the fact that there was no room for me at the deck. I needed a cigarette more than ever.

A group of underdressed and overdressed youngsters was getting in a position for a selfie, and I found myself paralyzed against the wall and unintentionally photobombing their picture. They didn't notice my presence smashed between them and the wall, a feather sticking from someone's costume sticking to my face.

That's when I heard the host yelling to his entourage: "Let's roll! Let's roll!" His followers quickly got on the move, and almost in tears, I watched a bubble of space opening in front of me, clearing the path to the elevator. I tumbled rushed to the elevator door, pushing away a couple of celebrities on my way to it. Then, someone yelled, "She's in a hurry," followed by a loud group roar. I felt like correcting it and cried back: "Not she, they!" And suddenly, I was speaking their language, although it was a lie. The group immediately stopped laughing; one of them, a girl with big platform boots wearing a Marilyn-like bob, even took a bow while yelling her approval back at me: "Respect!"

As I reached the pavement and tobacco nirvana, I thought about the 70s and the roaring 20s. A time-lapse of images passed through my eyes while I thought of everything that happened in the world since then. Now I was really scared. That's when my phone buzzed an incoming message. There I was! Bug eyes, flat smashed in the background photobombing a group of people wearing Ziggy Fell Follies meet Transformers costume on a screenshot from BFA's after-party live streaming. Below the picture on the text message, a question: "Is that you?" followed by "Omg" emoji and all. I took a deep and existential drag on the cigarette and though, “Yeah, this is the end."

AMERICA’S HUNGER GAMES 2021

That the so-called most prestigious fashion event of the year has become a scene out of The Hunger Games film trilogy is a well-known fact already, but is the Met Gala still relevant today?

If you look at the social media activity surrounding the event, the answer is a YES! Amid polarizing comments, which clearly reflect the current time, the night dominated this week's trending topics and news cycle.

But the polarizing aspect it's exactly what put the star-studded event relevance under questioning.

This year extravagant fundraiser for The Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute theme was American Independence, and it marked the opening of the exhibit titled "In America: A Lexicon of Fashion". The show is a celebration of American design and, according to the museum is an "exploration of fashion in the United States in the Anna Wintour Costume Center."

The irony is that the American values at the core of the Declaration of Independence have been under threat like never before in recent history. Perhaps the Met's Costume Institute theme intended to highlight the 4 principles of the Declaration of Independence– People's Inalienable Rights to Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of Happiness– but it backfired by exposing precisely the opposite of the declaration most prominent part: All men are created equals.

Last Monday, like every year since 1948, the rich and famous walked the Met's impressive staircase under the curious and anxious gaze of the media and the populace to dine among themselves. Nothing is more distant from the American ideal that all men are equals.

But to Met's curator Andrew Bolton,"young designers, in particular, are at the vanguard of discussions about diversity and inclusion," and the exhibit and Gala wanted to showcase it. It echoes Vogue's attempt to become more relevant to a younger audience - just check the magazine's September article titled "Generation America: The Models Changing an Industry."

Like BuzzFeed reported, "We saw a lot of social media stars and influencers, people like Addison Rae and Emma Chamberlain, even one of the Try Guys." Gen Z was out at the Gala, and they were ready to take the stage, and night's event theme, as they pleased.

The Gala's theme served as a vast umbrella allowing a wide range of interpretations: from Billie Eilish Valentino gown channeling American icons Marilyn Monroe, Grace Kelly, and the Holiday Barbie Doll, to A$A.P.'s quilt by L.A. label ERL, representing the patchwork of cultures that make up America. It also welcomed Lil Nas skin-tight, embellished black and gold jumpsuit and Kim Kardashian burka-like, all-black covered face Balenciaga look. It looks like everything goes at the Met Gala, as long it is a show stopper. So in that sense, nothing more American than this.

But the internet buzz was questioning: Should AOC - wearing a custom-made white gown with the words tax the Rich in red across it- attend a fundraiser that charged 33k for a seat? Who paid the congresswoman's ticket? Taxpayers? Was it politically correct Kim's look against what's happening with women in Afghanistan now? Was it COVID tone deaf? Should Lourdes León shave her armpits?

But here's the hard question behind all chatter: in today's revisionist spirit, should the Met gala be canceled? America is divided about it. So is the world we are living in.

"WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?"– HE ASKED

"I don't know how it happened, but suddenly, I realized I was surrounded by crazy people. You see, before it, I was dwelling with myself, wondering if I was mad or just sober. The truth is, I wasn't wholly sober all the time, but yet, sometimes alcohol can bring us some clarity."

His eyes looking up, suspiciously staring at me while he enjoyed the coffee. I thought he was an interesting man, but I couldn't tell if he was in total denial or actually had a point. I pondered about saying something for a second, but then I decided to nod only.

He continued: "Well, there I was with this mid-forties woman telling me that I should have paid the restaurant bill last time ."

I looked at him with a blank expression, unsure if I should encourage the conversation or not. Then, while he took a large gulp of coffee, I saw him rolling his eyes. It was just a glimpse, which he promptly gaslight me by opening a big and broad smile. Until now, I still don't know if I had caught a look of disdain or not, and like many other things, he just kept me wondering.

"You know, she said that two men having lunch with a lady should take care of the check." He paused again and stared at me, checking I was following him or not. Again, I stared him back with an intentional blank expression.

"Anyway, the lady, who referred to herself as girl or chick"– he added sarcastically– "told me a ‘girl’ like her should be taken care of by her friends. And she completed saying that's what people like us do." And he stopped there. Another pause followed by a loud remark: "You see, people like us! She included me!"

I yawned internally while he completed: "That's one of the first moments I clearly remember thinking to myself: who are these people?"

I took a deep breath that wasn't planned and didn't go unnoticed. It just happened, and before I could try to hold it back, the man's eyes told me he had seen it. He stared at me with big judging eyes, which made me think of a line from a movie: "I'm quietly judging you."

“Well, that makes two of us”– I thought to myself. “Yeah, I was judging you too.” But, right after completing this thought, I immediately felt guilty. Behind the man's outrageousness, I could detect a much darker feeling. He looked defeated. It wasn't like he was too old –in fact, he looked younger for his age– but he was beaten by life.

We stayed there in silence for a minute that felt too long and too meaningful. Of course, we would keep on the stare battle longer, but, for a minute, there was a truce. 

"My point is that we make friends in life; we age together with them. But our lives take different paths, pulling us closer and pushing us apart as we navigate the changes." Now he sounded existential and philosophical, almost spiritual. My heart clenched fist-tight to the point it hurt. I totally could relate to what he was saying, yet at the same time, I thought I was maybe too young still to fully comprehend it. But my heart hurt just the same. I thought of my friends who I hadn't seen in so many years; life suddenly felt so lonely as I realized that I hadn't had a meaningful conversation with someone for a long while.

"We change, you know. We don't even notice it, but other people do. There's so much left unsaid and so much said that is entirely unnecessary. Like, I don't care that she thinks she is on a different level. Do I have anything in common with this person anymore?"

I remembered thinking the same thing while lunching with a friend not long ago. It was like I saw this person for the first time while I listened to her babbling about women's empowerment and questioning why her boyfriend didn't propose. All in the same sentence. I was looking at her and thinking: "where do you come from?"

Sighing deeply, I pushed that memory away, focusing on the man in front of me. Words kept coming out of his mouth, but I couldn't help dazing out. He wasn't old; he was charming with an odd combination of a certain snobbish flair mixed with a boyish attitude. 

"My other friend drinks so much that she can't walk straight every time we go out for dinner. The other friend complains about her partner's infidelities while egging me to be unfaithful. Not mentioning the boomerang friend. This one finds a way to turn every topic about her. It is plain embarrassing” He shook his head before saying: “But you know, I wonder what they think of me too?". I chuckled, thinking his friends probably had lots to say about him. Arrogant and conceited were the first words that popped up in my mind. I could swear he was reading my mind. However, I think he had passed in caring about what people thought of him. Myself instead, I was too caught up with other people's judgment all the time. I liked to think I wasn't, but that wasn't true. I cringed, thinking about what people thought of me. 

"My best friend became so politicized that she only talks about politics. And I don't even know if we are best friends anymore. She never calls or texts, but I supposed she has a lot on his plate too... Life doesn't get easier as we grow older. So much baggage, you know."

I thought of my best friend that I didn't talk to much either these days except some random short boozy text. I felt guilty for not calling and not showing much interest in his life too. I feared losing the connection altogether. “I wonder what he thinks of me?”– I felt terribly lonely again.

Another gulp of coffee, and he went on saying that "somehow, someway, we manage to stay friends with some. But here and there, I find myself thinking that I am talking to a disturbingly familiar stranger… How did we get here? What happened to us?"

"How did I get here?"– I thought to myself. I'm always so unattached to the world that randomly listening to this man got me thinking of things I haven't thought about in ages. I guess he heard my thoughts because then he popped this one out: "You think of these things all the time. It is like a backdrop or white noise; it's always there whether you realize it or not. Sometimes they pop up to the surface, but most of the time, they just make us react to things without ever being aware of them. Frustration, resentment, loss... They are always there."

That whole psychological and existential spiel was way too much for me at that time of the day. Words were almost coming out of my mouth, and I felt like I was about to tell him how pathetic and self-righteous he sounded. "It's my turn to let you know about a few truths about life."– I thought. I went on thinking to myself: “Starting with you are not as good and wise as you think you are.” But that's when on a clumsy move, I spilled coffee all over my off-white sweater. Instead of few truths what came out of my mouth was simply: “Shit!”

He didn't blink. Showing no emotion at all, he just offered me a tissue. Stretching his long arms, waving a tissue in his hand, he said: "There, use this."

I excused myself to go to the restroom, but halfway there, I took a turn as I decided I needed a cigarette. As I walked out of the door, I saw him following my move with his eyes. Again, no expression.

"God bless tobacco!"– I thought to myself as I took a long drag of Marlboro. Outside, in the cold morning, I let a colossal smoke out while I watched him sitting inside, still sipping his coffee. Strangely his image merged with mine on the shop's large glass window reflection. I saw my gaunt figure juxtaposed to his, and I thought how much hunkering down for months had taken a toll on me. I didn't like the way I looked– I looked hopeless.

Meanwhile, now he looked completely unaware of me smoking outside. I felt sad for him and for myself. Both caught up on our own thoughts; those thoughts that we aren't aware of most of the time. That background white noise made me storm out of the shop, hoping to breathe while I inhale tobacco. Suddenly I was fully aware of where I was and everything around me. I thought of the city I loved and hated so much at the same time. I thought of my life that seemed to take radical turns from time to time and questioned what was behind it. I thought of my hopeless self reflected on the glass window, and I thought of how much of myself I saw on that man sitting inside.

"What happened to us? "– I couldn't stop thinking of it. I felt the heavy burden of awareness falling on me. All the insecurities and self-doubt I disguised behind my carefully crafted and well-thought-out aloofness. I was a fraud, as much as this sad man sitting inside the coffee shop is. Him and all his friends. I looked around at the bubble I’d chosen to live in, realizing that the bubble was much bigger than I thought. The modern, hip, and detached urban bubble that I was so sick of. I tried to collect myself. I fixed the hair, adjusted my sweater and skirt, and consider putting some lipstick on: “Ugh, I look terrible!” As I approached the rotating door, looking at the man inside through the window, I wondered how it would be if I was a man? If I was this man. But then he wasn't there anymore. As I crossed the door and walked into the shop, I couldn't find him anymore. He disappeared in thin air, leaving me there wondering if this meeting had ever happened. I had lost him as much weirdly I felt I missed him. 

WHO GET'S TO DECIDE?

This is a dialogue from a famous sequence in the not so much memorable Monalisa Smile film. You might not remember the movie, but you might have asked yourself once, what's art? You might have even wondered who gets to decide it?

As a former art student, I was so lucky to have been on many occasions in the presence of those who get to make that decision on people's behalf. Did you notice the sarcasm in the previous line? Well, if you didn't before, now you know it.

I've always wondered why some people get to decide what's art, what's good, what's creative or cool? 

Think about it: someone, someday, decided that Marcel Duchamp was a great artist. Note that I chose to write decided instead of recognized. That's because many people had most likely admitted his genius – not an expert here – before the decision-makers had given him their approval stamp. In any circle and at any time in history, these people make decisions on our behalf constantly.

Think of your group of friends; I bet among them there is a film critic. Just look around, check your Instagram feed; I'm sure there's a food connoisseur or at least a fashionista too. It's just like within our family; we all have specific parts in the plot – I was the rebel, just saying. It's a natural thing, and it's part of our socializing experience. The problem starts when the eye-rolling begins.

Have you ever being shamed because you didn't like or understand a particular artist, singer, film, or fashion designer? Like that moment when you naively confessed you don't like much Jeff Koons – guilty here – and people around you just roll their eyes as their way of letting you know that you are clueless. It happened to you too, don't lie! Remember those lovely gallery vernissage nights, when the the art lovers gather to sip cheap warm white wine together and stare at white canvas? Or the line at that fabulous alternative film festival where film buffs anxiously waited in line to watch a remarkable Iranian movie without subtitles? If you ever attended one of those highly sought-after venues, it wouldn’t surprise me if you have done the inexcusable faux pas of stating shamelessly that you were bored. Once, I was given a pass for liking an immersive exhibit– that was sort of a friendly rolling eye.

You see, eye-rollers think that they are the decision-makers. It isn’t exclusive to art. Eye-rollers believe they are part of an elite group that gets to decide what's good or bad, appropriate, beautiful, politically correct or simply cool. You might have been got caught once humming a Britney Spears song to a friend's complete disgust too. Remember what happened next? Rolling eyes, that's what happened!

But although they think that they decision-makers, I strongly suspect they aren't. In the best-case scenario, I think they are only the taste police. Or they might be cool hunters– trend-seeking narcissistic vampires who only care about how their feed looks like, which is just another type of follower. Yes, they might be influencers too. But frankly, when someone like Kim Kardashian is considered an influencer in prison reform– yes, she is – one begins to wonder who is actually influencing Kim Kardashian? Or do you think she came up with it on her own? Please, don't say Kanye.

Here's my question: who is behind the influencers and the taste police deciding what's art, creative or cool, so they can let us all know?

In his 2000's book Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell, the Canadian author-slash-cultural-guru, wrote that "ideas, products, messages, and behaviors spread like viruses do." Back then, it was a disruptive concept. He completed this by saying, "the success of any kind of social epidemic is heavily dependent on the involvement of people with a particular and rare set of social gifts." Actually, he wrote much more than this. Still, this pretty much summarizes the overall book premise– at least for the purpose of this post.

Maybe he is right, and some people have a particular gift set that enables them to pick ideas and societal transformation earlier and quicker than others. But, according to him, the connectors, another group with a specific gift, with their array of social, cultural, professional, and economic connections, will help these spread ideas into the mainstream. If that's the case, maybe I was indeed privileged to have met some of them in my life. Or maybe, let's throw it out there, I'm one of them! Nah, most likely not. 

Anyway, I'm still wondering why we let other people pick what's correct or tasteful on our behalf? And more, do we still need this? 

In a world that has recently witnessed the rise of the influencers – some predict their downfall is coming – it looks like we still need it. But staying true to my role in my family, I don't care about taste police or decision-makers in general. I've realized that in the past I had spent too much time giving power to people who weaponize knowledge, influence, and access to personal profit or just to feed their egos. 

Backstage, some powerful people might be pulling the strains and deciding for us what's art, for example. Or Gladwell is right; a few gifted people are the initiators or the disruptors to use a current term. They get to decide everything, and we are just their followers. Well, I guess they must be the "right people." But if they are, I feel like I'd rather be among the wrong people.

Joking aside – not so much – I guess my point is that there will always be people influencing others. Still, in the current environment, there's a huge opportunity to update this dynamic. As much as social media has enabled individual voices to be heard, it is time for people to feel free to share their opinion without fearing being shamed as public entertainment. Most importantly, knowledge should set people free. It's not a matter of right or wrong, and no one gets to decide anything for anyone.

ON TAKING ON THE WORLD AND LOSING YOURSELF

"Do you know what a foreign accent means? It's a sign of bravery."

I read this, and it reminded me of Emerson's "Self-Reliance" essay, one of my favorite and most formative reads. In this essay, he wrote about longing to visit new places and seeking new adventures before warning us; in the end, our giant goes with us wherever we go. I was in my early twenties when I read it while leaving abroad for the first time. It did have a tremendous impact on me, and in some ways, made me decide to come back home sooner than I had planned. But when I came back home, I found out that home and our giant might be just like a shadow. Depending on the sun's positioning in the sky, it can extend behind, ahead, or under us. I never felt quite at home for most of my life, and that's why years later I decided I should venture into the world again, but this time without a come back plan. I decided that home was ahead of me until I could plant my feet somewhere and have my shadow as a defined rounded spot centered right under them. It would be noon then. 

I didn't know then how much bravery it entailed. And for most of my journey, every time I had a setback, I took it hard because I wasn't completely aware of how big the undertaking was. And even today, while I'm writing these words, I am still surprised I made it this far. That's because we don't keep track of every emotion and challenge as we explore the world. We don't stop to process each event and cultural obstacle as we learn to navigate a foreign territory.

I was surprised by the emotion and sudden realization that took over me while reading this post about bravery. I honestly think that cluelessness is a significant component, but it takes bravery to go out in the world. However, facing the giant, or our own shadow, requires even more courage. As I look at my feet, hoping to find a 12 o'clock shadow under it indicating that I'm home, at last, I'm forced to face that transient aspect of it. Soon it will be 1 o'clock, and then the shadow will start its journey from under my feet to being ahead or behind me until it quickly fades as the night falls. Just like Emerson wrote, soon, I will be acknowledging the stern and unrelenting fact that I'm alone with my giant, whether I can see it or not. The truth is that when we take on the world, it's like leaving home for good – a traveler has no home. Changed by experience, we are turned into eternal foreigners, a feeling that we can't shake off anymore or anywhere– I wonder if this is how a nomad feels? But in becoming a foreigner, do we lose ourselves completely? Or does the journey forces us to encounter ourselves in ways that staying at home wouldn't let us?

I'm not sure one can fully answer these questions since once you choose a path, you can't be sure of how it will turn out. And, in acknowledging the impossibility of knowing how things could have been, we become aware of life's main limitation: we know where it started and where it will ultimately end, but that's all we will ever know.

The little we find out about ourselves as we look back in the past to imagine how the future will be is as certain as a thrown of a dice. One can easily get lost, and being abroad, I've lost myself as many times as the times I guessed I had reencountered myself. So today, I try to accept that I will know myself only as much as the 12 o'clock shadow under my feet will let me. My ever-moving shadow will follow me every time, constantly changing, but just like the giant, always there. As for taking on the world, I suppose it's more correct to say that the world has taken over me. And perhaps the real bravery, it is just taking it in.

ON FINDING ONESELF AND BEING THE ODD ONE OUT

Strange Bird. That's definitely one of my favorite. I don't think I was ever called this, but I would bow and thank you to anyone who calls me that.

Misfit. Here's the thing with this one: it is kind of a compliment. If you were born after the '60s, then you grew up believing being a misfit is cool. It has a James Dean flair– and a Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller intrinsic heritage in it. And of course, Apple made it iconic with the Think Different Manifesto ad. The same goes for Maverick too. After that commercial, words like Misfit and Maverick became part of the rebel vernacular. To me, they all sound like something you could hear on an Apple or Levi's commercial. It's very 80s.

Oddball sounds like screwball and my head always go to Lucille Ball– don't ask me why. But I appreciate an Oddball; it doesn't offend me at all.

Character. Some may say it's like a euphemism, but, frankly, I say it's a dig. I'm sure I have been called a character hundreds of times. Probably as many times as I called others too. It isn't offensive, but it has no eland, which is kind of offensive to people who are considered different. When I call someone a character, I'm looking down at them. But when it's the other way round, I simply ignore it.

Crackpot, Nut, Nutcase, Nutter. These sound so old school that I'm skipping them all.

Bohemian, Nonconformist, Individualist, Unorthodox Person– they are delightfully sophisticated. Aside from Individualist – for obvious reasons – I can't imagine not trying to be like the others.

Eccentric. I have mixed feelings about it. I think when they are young, we call them "cool" or "unconventional." However, when they are older, we just call them "eccentric." That doesn't vibe well with me, but I would prefer to be considered an eccentric over conventional at any stage of my life.

Freak. Definitely another favorite. It falls in the Sex Box, just like Deviant or Pervert. Honestly, I think I'm too vanilla to be a Deviant, and I might lack enough panache to carry the pervert label properly. However, I'm proud to be a Freak, and I have been called it many times. Also, Loony – which always makes me think of Looney Tunes – and a Weirdo. Weirdo is like my middle name at this point.

And finally, there is Queer. I'm so proud to be queer and humbled to be part of the queer legion. Queer is my badge of honor.

In the end, these are only words; however, words carry weight, and sometimes, what we hear from others makes it harder for us to find our true selves.

Name-calling is probably as old as non-verbal communication. Primitive humans probably said it all with grunts and grimaces. But an expression of disgust can be way less poisonous than labeling someone. A label can last longer, sometimes a lifetime; it can stick to your skin like invisible ink. Others might not see it, but you know it's there, every moment defining and limiting you. But we can learn to shift the meaning of words to take control of our own narrative. So to survive it, one got to know how to flip it.

And when a group of people flips a word's meaning, it triggers a shift that ultimately can change a community. When we recognize we share with others the same attributes, idiosyncrasies, and challenges, we feel less lonely and singled out. In addition, it boosts our self-confidence, enabling us to come out in the open without the fear of being ourselves. Remember, "we are here, we are queer, get used to it"? This motto opened the gates for queer people everywhere to gain visibility and claim their space in society.

But as we flip those labels and get absorbed by mainstream society, they can also end up boxing us. Labeling is reductive by definition– once you've been tagged something, other people's perceptions about you will be dictated by the box they believe you belong to.

But here's the catch, if you ever felt like being the odd one out, feeling boxed is something you might not feel comfortable with. Some long to belong or be part of something – and becoming part of a group gives relief and empowers their identity. However, for other people, being the odd one out is what defines their personality; therefore, being put inside a box is simply torture. Personally, every time it happens to me, I feel like yelling from the top of my lungs: Just don't box me! So, even among those who feel like the odd one out, some feel odder and outer than others.

It took me a long time to learn to embrace derogatory terms and turned them into self-empowering words. To shift their meaning to express who we really are, I realized that we must own them proudly first. It doesn't hurt me anymore if someone calls me a weirdo or freak. Instead, it is a relief because it saves me the time of an introduction.

When all is said and done, these are only words, and we are much than that. You can call me by name.

NARCISSISM AND END OF THE PLANET

It's not news that we live in a narcissistic society that gets more obsessed with images every day. To some, our obsession naturally gets translated into our love for fashion. We are consumed by the newest trend and the most fabulous look that goes it. With the invention of fast fashion, looks are living their golden age. As a consequence, our daily fashion fix is Instagram. It is as easy as striking a pose and then get ready for our 5 seconds of fame. Just post it and start working on the next make-over.

But below are some stats that gives fashion and social media an entirely different look:

The fashion industry produces over 100 billion new garments every year; 300 million photos are uploaded on Instagram daily; there are 500.000 influencers on Instagram; Instagram is the social media platform with the highest reach for fashion influencers; and finally, the Aral Sea has shrunk 25% of its original size and holds only 10% of its original volume.

What does the Aral see has to do with any of it?

The Aral Sea, an endothermic lake lying between Kazakhstan in the north and Uzbekistan in the south, was once considered the 4th largest sea on the planet. It had consistently shrunk since 1960 when it became a central hub for cotton production. 

To quench our desire to rock a new look every day, we literally turned the Aral Sea into "one of the planet's worst environmental disasters."

The fact that fashion is the second most polluting industry globally, coming right after coal and oil, might not surprise many people. That's because we've become accustomed to the guilty feeling attached to the price tag every time we shop at Zara. We pick the outfit to look at the store mirror and go instantly numb to its contribution to the planet's environmental collapse. 

But we don't usually realize that beyond shopping, we are actively fueling an environmental disaster by the way we use social media too. 

In other words, just by posting the look of the day, we are inadvertently contributing to damaging the world we live in. 

Covid turned me into an all-day sweatpants type of guy, but I'm a confessed fashion lover. At some point, I admit, I must have been a fashion victim too. Thankfully, today, I'm recovered. But the massive fashion consumption is turning everyone into a different kind of fashion victim. Take the Kardashians, one of the most famous fashion influencers on Instagram. I'm not sure if there's a Kardashian-gram (someone should have thought about it already), but to this day, only Kim has posted 5,586 pictures– only Kim has 236 million followers. The hashtag LOFD (#lookoftheday) already counts more than 44,800,000 posts. Only these two examples can give an idea of the extent to how social influencers and followers are ultimately helping to end the planet. 

But there's hope. Last year goodnyou.com posted a list of Sustainable Fashion Influencers to Follow. The website identified influencers passionate about fashion and educating followers about many aspects of wellness, mindful living, and environmental awareness. They support ethical fashion to sustainability-focused industries (check the link at the bottom).

Also, they understand that Instagram is the ultimate Fashion Bible, and they use their influence to shape their follower's lifestyles and behavior. They are aware that their audience is actively engaged in environmental issues. A Pew Research Center recent study found that most Americans support efforts to reduce the effects of climate change to ensure a sustainable planet for future generations. According to the survey, it's Gen Z and Millennials who are leading climate change activism. And Gen Z and Millenials are the most active Instagram users.

Something is changing. If in Greek mythology, Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection in a pool of water, staring at it until his death, for Gen Z and Millenials, narcissists aren't fashion victims; they are the aggressor too.

The new generation wants to look good, but they are also looking forward to a more sustainable future.

(https://goodonyou.eco/sustainable-fashion-influencers-to-follow-in-2020)

THE ENDURING POWER OF CLIQUE CULTURE

Oh, Regina George! Those who met her won't ever forget her. 

The Mean Girls' primary antagonist, Regina George, is the perfect example of a high school bully who yields her power from close colleagues' fears to manipulate and harass other students. She is the embodiment of the destructive power of the clique. Unfortunately, most of us believe we are free of the clique's oppressive culture when we leave high school. Still, we realize that's not true as soon we enter our professional careers.

That's because humans are creatures of habit, and the dynamics we learn in our formative years are often carried out for the rest of our lives. Therefore, the clique culture became so common in corporate environments that unbeknownst, it affects entire industries.

Who didn't miss an opportunity or a coveted project or promotion because of the boss's favoritism? Did you notice the rotation of people in power in some segments? There's nothing new in any of this, and we got so used to it that we don't realize the enduring influence of the clique to keep this going. According to a recent study by BrightHR– a cloud-based HR management solution– 43% of workers say there are cliques in their workplace.

Clique members sometimes use subtle, other times bluntly aggressive, ways to exercise power and influence. They cast divergent voices out by bullying and isolating them. The target is often the usual suspects, and it highlights the undertones of racism, sexism, prejudice, and intolerance prevalent among them.

We cannot confront racism, intolerance, and inequalities in the workplace if we don't recognize the enabling influence of clique culture.

Isn't it time to look into systemic bullying created by the power of clique culture in the work environment? 

Like many of us, I've experienced my own share of challenges with it in my career. But after working for more than 25 years in a highly competitive industry, I thought I could write about it because I know many other stories of friends and colleagues who went through challenging situations at work. Cases that go from straightforward harassment to more subtle ways of manipulation. Many lost their jobs because they spoke up. Others subsided, fearing retaliation or losing their jobs, and many talents are permanently lost. But the clique network always stays. They are all the same, rotating among different companies and roles. If you are not one of them, you either wish you were, or you are just envious you are not as good as them. The narrative never changes.

Having a group of employees who work well together isn't bad at all. In fact, it can potentially result in higher levels of productivity. But an exclusive membership clique can foster toxic behavior that can affect the work environment and productivity negatively. This group dynamic also doesn't encourage people to think independently, which isn't conducive to innovative and out-of-the-box thinking. Clique culture doesn't help promote healthy competition too– an "us and them" mentality created by clique's rivalry is damaging to workplace morale. Also, staff members who felt unfairly treated or left out at work can file lawsuits against the company (in the US Equality Act 2010), claiming discrimination and asking for financial compensation.

In short, clique culture is bad for business.

The truth is that they aren't an evil gang trying to take down the competition. Fear is at the clique's foundation. In fact, many times, what drives them is the fear of others judging or excluding them. Cliques act in a sort of preventive way– I'll bully you before you get the chance of bullying me. It's about socializing and survival. But, in the end, regardless of the appearances, nobody wins.

To me, this is another case of calling in instead of calling out. We need to call people in so we can have a conversation about it. As we refuse to talk and acknowledge it, we are enabling and normalizing clique culture. With companies beginning to plan to go back to the office or choosing a hybrid model, this is the perfect time to look into the issue and update today’s workplace culture.

THE FOURTH WALL, STREAMING AND THE END OF REALITY TV

The fourth wall is a performance convention in which an invisible, imagined wall separates actors from the audience. While the audience can see through this "wall," the convention assumes the actors act as if they cannot. In TV, it means don't look or acknowledge the camera.

The premise of a reality show is that you are watching real-life unscripted situations where the protagonists are not acting to the camera. The format has evolved throughout the years, but aside from the confessional scenes, protagonists have their lives documented without any interaction with the camera. The camera is the fourth wall.

Modernized Reality Show franchises have producers who help cast members create narratives that will help to boost their screen time. Often the storylines are loosely based on reality, and the cast members basically keep throwing spaghetti to the wall to see what sticks. Social media tracking and ratings will disclose the storylines performing better, guaranteeing to members another season or a better seat at the reunion episode. Their performance ratings can also help them sign up lucrative deals with brands, going from appearances at events to sponsorship and other business ventures.

Over the years – or seasons if you prefer –we watched the fight for attention become increasingly hostile and sometimes savage. The cast members' resentment to network favoring some with more air time than others or jealous of their social media tracking fostered an environment of aggressive competition and false alliances that ended pushing to break the fourth wall many times. But what happens when a cast member addresses the show itself and blames it for feeding a conflict? Is it still a reality show, or not?

The irony of it is that for most cast members, the show is their reality. Without the show, they wouldn't have any income, or the show is the source of most of their income they can get outside the show, but because of the show. So, when they break the fourth wall, they are actually not breaking it. It's almost like an existential and philosophical paradigm. If reality isn't reality, then what's real? (brain exploding gif)

Viewers have been binging on reality shows for decades. What started as an experiment and evolved into a fad, then went from a fringe guilty pleasure to cult, and finally became a household blockbuster, now seems to have been metastasized into the world of social media. It feels like it has completed the circle. 

Andy Cohen, the man behind the mega-successful Real Housewives franchises, said reality TV is the soap opera of this generation. And it seems he is entirely correct. The drama shown in the franchise rivals the daytime 80s soap operas. But it went further: Reality shows fictionalized reality to the point that cast members are show characters in their real lives – or whatever they call it when the TV cameras are off. When they are not in the show, they are on social media, at an event on the pages of a gossip magazine. They live on and for the camera. The only difference of the Truman Show is that reality stars are aware they are on camera.

When Laurie Anderson, the avant-garde multi-media artist, wrote "Language Is a Virus" in 1986, she spoke about dreaming of living on an island where everybody was from TV and kept saying: "Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!" How prophetic she was! Today, the constant battle for air time crashed the fourth wall and created an entire world of people living a fictionalized version of reality that viewers want to copy. Turning reality into a simulacrum, an image or representation of something, but in this case of life itself. The constant copying of a fictionalized reality created what the French philosopher Jean Baudrillard would call a Simulacra, which is copies that depict things that either had no original or no longer have an original.

Putting aside all the symbolism, references, metaphors, and predictions we can find in modern culture, still, the critical question is: Have Reality Shows ended their cycle?

I thought the election of a TV reality star as the president of the most powerful nation in the world would change the show. But it didn't, although I argue it might have contributed to it by showing to the audience how it looks like the behavior reality shows notoriously enable. Well, maybe not.

But my guess is that the pandemic and streaming will kill reality TV. Hunkered down for months without anything to do but look at, but their screens, audiences became hungry for more content. Watching on TV the indulgent lives of the rich and famous while locked inside –most likely jobless–probably was too much to some viewers. But what probably hit reality TV hard was what actually made it so lucrative. It is a low-budget type of content compared to scripted streaming. And streaming had its moment during the pandemic, helping establish it as the choice of entertainment of the 21st century. Audiences wanted better production values, more intriguing and engaging storylines than what reality TV offers. Streaming platforms like Netflix, Amazon, HBO Max, and Disney+ came out with quality, but they brought quantity. When it comes to Disney+ only, think about the entire Marvel catalog that is available on streaming. Now, audiences don't have to pick between quality and quantity; they can have both. At any time of the day, on-demand.

What will happen to reality TV then? With KUWTK -the most famous reality tv cast on TV – final season last month and other shows' high-profile cast members involved in some serious problems with the law, it will be interesting to watch what happens (wink) to reality TV. Indeed, producers will try to reinvent it. Maybe this time, to pump up the ratings, it will need more than a salacious adultery rumor or a dramatically turning of the table.

I CAN'T WIN BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO LOSE

The roads were empty.

Not really, because there were a few people out. And yet, emptiness was all around.

Standing at the station, staring at the tracks and getting tunnel vision looking at the long and quiet platform. Some kids walked in. Hoodies and sweats with big logos, sneakers that looked like astronaut boots, and eyes. Those eyes, those bug eyes that looked empty and glassy.

Someone sneezed. We all shared an uncomfortable glance at each other. There were another 3 people there. Then, curtains down, our eyes went dark as we redirected our attention to our phones. 

The kids were on to something. Some underground party, but first some boozing pit stop at Victor in LES. I could pick that up. The train was taking forever – it felt hot outside. I thought of the kids I saw last night and the kids I saw many nights before. The waste was there already. Now they looked different from the other kids. Different and yet just the same. They aged. We all did. But we were all young not long ago. Young before it all happened, but already too old without realizing it.

They couldn't know anyway. All they knew was getting into the woods and getting shit-faced. Then acid came – kegs and acid. And the world spinning around and heads exploding.

I thought I heard them laughing. It sounded more like chucking. Like kids do when they think something is funny but not enough to break out character. But they all had a half-smile on their face while they texted non-stop. I heard the name Jenny and something about KMart. I imagined Jenny at Kmart's parking lot. I met many girls like her over the years. They all went to the bushes to get high. They went to pool parties and barbecues. They had that fake sitcom excitement. That one that disappears after a one-liner. They had fake IDs and worn tight mini-skirts. They always ended up in some parking lot or picked up by a guy on a truck. 

I tried to look at them without being too obvious. I think that one of them noticed it, quickly elbowing the big kid on a tracksuit. They both stared at me amid indifference and threat. But their eyes were blank. Completely empty. I didn't blink and hold my stare as if looking at something through them, like I was looking at the end of the tunnel hoping for the train to arrive. They gave up and went back to their planning. I thought about that Buddy Guy song. They had no idea who Buddy Guy was– they never heard the blues. I was thinking about one line on that song Damn Right, I've got the blues. I chuckled to myself when I felt that if I had to explain who Buddy Guy was, I could just say, Damn Right, he's got the blues. Silly that I thought of that. But anyway, the line goes like this, I can't win because I don't have a thing to lose.

I imagined myself talking to them as if in an alternate world. I would tell their eyes looked empty. Empty like the streets, like this train station, like the entire fucking world. I would say to them their eyes have always been empty because they had nothing to lose. Undetected anxiety– the source of all fears. Nothingness, emptiness, that stuff eats you up without you even noticing it.

What was I thinking? They just don't give a fuck, and in any parallel alternative world, they wouldn't give a fuck. To them, I don't even exist, I’m barely here. Anyway, it is fucking too late. It might be too late for all of us, but it has been too late since the beginning for them. At some point, they wanted to win – whatever winning means in this forsaken land. But I'm not so sure, and who cares? Winning in the land of opportunity, that's when everything went wrong. You just can't win if you have nothing to lose. I bet they wanted to be seen. They won't admit they wanted to be loved too. Nah! What's love got to do with this anyway? They never had it. They won't ever get it, and they won't ever lose it either. I felt old, defeated and sad. That’s all I felt.

The tracks sound told me the train started to approach. First, the clickety-clack sound. Then, the whistle. I was tired, and it was hot outside. I just wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere. I have to take this train and hope it will take me to another state of mind. I just have to stare at the moving view outside the window. That's all. Just wait to see the world gets blurry and starts melting on the glass window. It will transport me somewhere else.

I looked at the kids once again, but this time I made sure they couldn't see me. They were there, leaning against the wall as if they were staring at their own teenage waste. They will be wasted in few hours, and they won't remember anything.

All empty. Just like it has ever been.

IT'S NOT MY BOWEL

How have you been digesting the "post" pandemic world? To me, it seems we still have a lot to process yet.

At first, in 2020, the world seemed to have erupted with voices calling out all the idiosyncrasies and hypocrisies that numbed us with time. It was about time. And time's up!

Fast forward to 2021, and here we are, living in a post-pandemic world while still trying to beat the virus. And the band goes on. But does it really?

I don't know about you, but there's a lot I can't take it anymore. So many times, I feel like Howard Beale, Albert Finney's character in Network (Google it!), and I want to open the window and shout: 'I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take this anymore!' 

In this 1976's Sidney Lumet satirical black comedy-drama, Howard Beale is an anchorman announcing on live T.V. that he will commit suicide after finding out he will be fired because of declining rates. Ironically, Beale's angry outburst causes ratings to spike, and then you'll have to watch the film to know more. Spoiler alert: the film is a cautionary tale about the blind pursuit of ratings and T.V. power.

After being numb for so long, with many emotions building up during lockdown, the new social distancing guideline flexibility teases up a '20s roaring reload. Lots of partying to forget about frustration, going back to "normal," getting hammered, and finally sitting on the couch with a hangover to watch a show about the 2020's pandemic on Netflix. I wonder if it won't top us to swallow everything back with a shot of tequila?

At the risk of sounding like an angry, paranoid man– which I'm not totally convinced I'm not– I keep seeing things all around that still make my stomach churn. I'm mad as hell, and it is feeding my IBS.

I can't take Bravo's racial reckoning, for example. Bravo built its audience on the back of the Real Housewives Name-A-City franchise success– a series of reality shows with nothing real about it–showcasing angry, allegedly wealthy, white angry women with drinking issues. Basically, a carnival of catfights mixed with questionable fashion choices and lots, lots of booze. And everybody enjoyed it. Those who felt slightly uncomfortable watching the constant barrage of unappropriated behavior enablement tinged with racism and lack of social awareness would often hear a classic "relax, take it easy" push back. Don't tell me to switch the channel because it is the same as saying look the other way.

But then the tide has shifted, and to solve the problem, Bravo brought some non-white new cast members to educate veterans and foster the conversation on critical current topics. I thought that the days of getting away with "fostering conversation on critical current topics" was over, but not to Bravo. So, let's bring on the booze and watch them learn– or burn. Like in Lumet's film, let's take some critical challenges, serve it up to viewers as entertainment, and then watch the ratings rise. Or, like Andy Cohen would prefer, let's watch what happens. 

After these unprecedented times –ugh!– we've been living in, it seems confusing to watch the world quickly jumping to marketing a woke renaissance without actually taking seriously the systemic issues we have been dealing with in society for centuries.

And that is the part that makes me sick to my stomach. We have been doing this so well– building or shifting a narrative – and for so long, it seems that "how it looks like" is always more relevant than" how things actually are." That it's OK profiting on talking about the problems without ever helping to tackle them– even in our own environment. It is kind of us to blame for this because we became experts in shifting or directing people's attention to what we want them to look at. Adding the power of social media to the recipe, and perception has triumphed over reality.

But can we do better?

Of course! With so much creative force and technology available in the world, putting in a bit of awareness – and frankly, some madness, anger, and perplexity, too – this moment can propel us to reinvention. There's a window of opportunity right in front of us. This time we can walk the talk and put actions where our mouth is. It's time to update our culture.

The prospect of a roaring 20s might be worrisome too. Because we've seen this movie many times, and the ending never changes. After the party, then comes the hangover. And after binging on the narratives, we successfully spin; unavoidably, we will have to process it in our real lives. We've done this for the entire 20th century, not only insisting on the same grub but instead spicing it up. Chugging on the same B.S. that we spill out to the world can only lead us to epic indigestion. I know I don't want to do more of the same, and perhaps it's time to change the diet.

But like I heard from the doctor when I asked if I could eat spicy food after being diagnosed with gastroenteritis: well, it's not my bowel.