“The same progressives who bemoan the way Fox News has polarized political discourse in America, masquerading as news while never troubling its followers with anything that would disturb its most cherished and untested convictions, happily turn to the satellite radio station of their preferred genre or subgenre of music or seek out the support group or message board that fits their demographic, the political site that skews their way. Entering the realm of the other seems done solely to express rage.

“The rigorous division of websites into narrow interests, the attempts of Amazon and Netflix to steer your next purchase based on what you’ve already bought, the ability of Web users to never encounter anything outside of their established political or cultural preferences, and the way technology enables advertisers to identify each potential market and direct advertising to it, all represent the triumph of cultural segregation that is the negation of democracy. It’s the reassurance of never having to face anyone different from ourselves.

“I don’t believe it’s an accident that this segregation has become our cultural norm at a time when America is as politically polarized as it’s ever been. The hard fact of democracy, which is always a crapshoot, is that for it to work we can’t shut out who or what we don’t like, who or what we have not bothered to encounter. Popular art, which depends on crossing barriers, can’t exist in such confines. And criticism—which is meant to help people make sense of work they don’t know or assume they won’t like, or work that they know but haven’t really thought about—becomes something like samizdat in a culture set up to enforce the boundaries that art and criticism must transverse.”

—Charles Taylor, “The Problem with Film Criticism,” Dissent (Fall 2011)

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Things we wish for, things we mourn


Next month, I turn 40. This blog is eleven years old, which means it spans the entirety of my thirties. I wish I could tell you that, looking over it, you can chart my moral, aesthetic, and philosophical progression. Hell, maybe you can but I can’t. Mostly, what I see are false starts, unexpected directions, a few failed dreams, and tiny glimmers of success that few people have seen and which I don’t fully understand. I’m not complaining, exactly. This is life, after all. Few of us live the grand, theatrically adventurous lives of someone like Orson Welles; most of us are closer, in one way or another, to John Williams’s Stoner or Thoreau’s people living “lives of quiet desperation.” I wish I could tell you that I feel wiser and more assured, and maybe that’s true in actuality, too, but mostly I just feel more resigned to life’s troubles and less passionate about potential futures. Some of that is me; some of that is the ever-churning (but rarely improving) world. I suppose resignation is a better mode than raw anger but I was hoping to find a fruitful in-between stage. Perhaps there’s still a radical, open-hearted, community-minded man in me. I won’t look for him with an expensive sports car (can’t afford it) or by bedding 19-year-olds (not interested) but I’m sure the journey will be riddled with plenty of other midlife-crisis clichés that all the twentysomethings can laugh at until it happens to them.

Anyway, Terry Teachout put up a recent blog post that means more at midlife than it might have at age 28, when I started Quiet Bubble. Unlike blog memes of a decade ago, he didn’t ask that it spread or that others respond but I’m doing so in the spirit of the thing. Here we go.

Five things I wish I had:
1) A loving, committed relationship.
2) The ability to turn off my ruminating thoughts, especially at night.
3) A flat belly.
4) A good sense of money management.
5) A working Olivetti typewriter with all the ribbon, cleaning supplies, and spare parts that I would ever need

Five things I wish I could do:
Standup comedy.
2) Dance well.
3) Withstand rejection with equanimity, and without taking months to recover.
4) Play bass guitar and upright bass.
5) Swim across the English Channel. (Why? I don’t know but I’ve always wanted to do it.)

Five things I wish I’d done:
1) Have children.
2) Visited New Zealand and the South Seas (which I suppose is still possible).
3) Asked out more women in high school and college.
4) Lived in a log cabin, in the mountains, for a yearlong stretch.
5) Gone to a college outside of the South.

Five things I’m glad I did:
1) Write a book with one of my best friends.
2) Ran a half-marathon.
3) Visited Paris for two weeks, at exactly the moment—age 22—when it could do me the most good & introduce me to the most new things.
4) That 4-day whirlwind trip to New York during a blizzard in February 2005—so many museums, galleries, restaurants, the Village Vanguard, cold smiling walks, and walking through Christo’s Gates in Central Park over and over again.
5) Published one great open-hearted short story, and one great open-hearted essay, that I’m truly proud of. Maybe that’s all I’ll get from my fiction and creative nonfiction, and maybe it’s enough.

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“[Americans] believe in a universe of divine justice where the human race is guilty of sin, but they also believe in a secular justice where human beings are presumed innocent. You can’t have both. You know how Americans deal with it? They pretend they are eternally innocent no matter how many times they lose their innocence. The problem is that those who insist on their innocence believe anything they do is just. At least we who believe in our own guilt know what dark things we can do.”

—Viet Thinh Nguyen, The Sympathizer (2015)

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Back-to-school film quiz

From Dave Chappelle’s Block Party (2006, dir. Michel Gondry).

Over the past year, I’ve co-written (and turned in) in a book manuscript, and worked extensively with its related blog; acquired and shepherded a difficult but incredibly rewarding book from start to finish; published a couple of book reviews; and began thinking through a screenplay I wrote long ago that I actually want to direct, adapted from a blog post from even longer ago. So, not much writing energy left for the blog or the newsletter. (Though, ahem, I did see through a series on Buster Keaton, refreshing and recharging my criticism in some interesting ways.) And, if I were you, I wouldn’t expect too much from the blog for the time being. But I will always have time for one of Dennis Cozzalio’s film quizzes. Here’s the new one, a back-to-school edition appropriate for me, as I live in the quintessential southern college town. Here we go.

Continue reading

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“One of the most fascinating things about human beings is your imagination and how it can create something that was never in the world before in billions of years and will never be in the world again in that form in billions of years to come. Isn’t that amazing? And you yourselves are of course imaginative adventures that never were in the world before and will never be again in this form. Your parents imagined you into being and here you are but you are different every day and every hour and every minute. You are essentially stories yourselves of course, unwinding and unreeling all the time, never knowing your ending; you tell yourselves every moment. Perhaps some aspect of maturity is when you begin to tell the story of yourself rather than other people telling your story.”

–Pipa Kuapapa, speaking to her classroom of schoolkids, in Brian Doyle’s The Plover (2014)

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Can a man who has often and pointedly claimed independence from all constraint and relationship continue on such a course for his entire lifetime, whether in marine or terrestrial context, without finally arriving not at a welcome solitude but at a fearsome loneliness and desiccation of the soul? Does a man who insists on his own compass and geography and direction, without acknowledgment and correction for the course of others, risk becoming cruel and lonely and hard as a seed that never gave itself a chance to open?”

Brian Doyle, The Plover (2014)

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Prince, 1958-2016: A letterpress print


We wanted to pay respects to the Great One and could not think of a better way than to create something—to give back, somehow, in some small way. So, we made a little work of art, in tribute to a man who gave so much to us all. Here you go:

Prince, 1958-2016. A new letterpress print. 8″ x 10″, black ink on purple 80# paper stock, colophon printed on back. Original drawing by Rebecca A. Norton, designed by Walter Biggins and Margot Ecke, printed on letterpress by Margot Ecke at Smokey Road Press, May 2016. This edition is limited to 75 copies, signed and numbered on the back.

Each print is $20 + $2 shipping. We will ship to all U.S. locations, by USPS media mail with delivery confirmation (i.e., a tracking number).

70 of 75 prints available.

Purchase here securely by credit card or PayPal:

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