Logo for The Intercepted podcast
|

Celebrate art and culture. It defines who we are.

When you live in times of authoritarian rule one of the first things that end up in the cross hairs is culture. We believe firmly that artists and writers and dramatists and actors and musicians play a vital role in defending the integrity of who we are as human beings.

— Jeremy Scahill, on the Trump’s Cabinet of Killers and Why Orange is the New Anti-Black episode of The Intercepted.

In the wake of 11/08 I had no interest in laughing, let alone savoring a poem or immersing myself in music. The task before us seemed too daunting to allow myself to luxuriate in the frivolity of comedy or escape to the narrative of a novel. That changed for me the first time that Melissa McCarthy played Sean Spicer on SNL. It was more than just her comedic talent and the amazing way in which she embodied the essence of Spicer. It was even more than the words that came out of her mouth, capturing the absurdity of this moment in America. No, like the solidarity of the protests, what made me truly weep with joy was the realization that I was not alone. It wasn’t just the connection I felt with Melissa, it was knowing that there was an entire team of writers, and producers, and a production crew that had shared in creating that moment. We are many.

I have stumbled across a new never-miss podcast from the website The Intercept called, naturally enough, Intercepted. Each show so far has featured a short (3 – 5 minute) piece of music or spoken word poetry. During episode two, the host, Jeremy Scahill, introduced the segment with the above quote and it hit home. We need our music, and our writings, and our poetry, and our comedy now more than ever. The artistic expression of our soul is what defines us as human beings. Sharing in — and celebrating — what each of us creates is what keeps us human.

I have never been more grateful for organizations like the ACLU and the plethora of lawyers we have in this country. Likewise, I am inspired by the power of our marches and protests as we stand up for our values. But, in addition to the direct tangible actions we can take, we also need a 100 million voices writing and singing and laughing and, in general, sounding our barbaric yawps over the roofs of the world.

Stay human.

Similar Posts

  • Flattery is the Cinnabon of Human Interaction

    Rob Long is a brilliant television writer who offers a weekly five minute commentary on KCRW. He outdid himself this week.

    The very best thing about flattery is how incredibly flattering it is. If you’re on the receiving end of a nice blast of “you’re so wonderful” it barely matters – what am I saying, it doesn’t matter in the least! – if it’s true. If you really are wonderful. If the personal telling you how wonderful you are even thinks you are wonderful.

    What’s important is that the person delivering the flattering cascade thinks you’re worth the butter. It’s like a kubuki moment: I’m probably lying, you know I’m probably lying, but you’re the kind of person it’s worth lying to.

    And if you’re on the other side, if you’re delivering the flattery, it’s amazing how instantly it works, how immediately the recipient begins to glow and swan around. It’s like a sugar rush. It’s cheap, it rots your teeth and makes you fat, but for a few moments, you feel invincible. Flattery, done correctly, is the Cinnabon of human interaction.

  • Time without attention is worthless

    The worst of states is when you experience neither relaxation nor productivity. Be focused on work or focused on something else, never in-betweeen. Time without attention is worthless, so value attention over time.

    — Timothy Ferriss, 4-Hour Work Week.

    I am on the final chapters of 4-Hour Work Week. As hard as it is for me to imagine enjoying his company, Ferriss is nailing it.

  • Just Be

    Sometimes the best thing we can do is to stop “doing” and just be. You don’t have to “be” anything. We don’t have to “be” quiet, or productive, or useful, or nice. Just be.

    In his brilliant album that gave music and lyrics to Richard Bach’s Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Neil Diamond wrote:

    Be, as a page that aches for a word that speaks on a theme that is timeless.

  • Go away, I’m looking for truth

    The truth knocks on the door and you say, “Go away, I’m looking for truth,” and so it goes away. Puzzling.

    — Robert Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

    I actually sent this quote to an internal recruiter once. I had been through several interviews with the company and it seemed that I was progressing towards a job offer. I was excited about the company and it looked to me to be a very good fit.

    And then came that one final interview with one of the partners. Within the first fifteen seconds of our conversation I knew that an offer would not be forthcoming. It was clear that she had already made up her mind before the call even began. When the recruiter called a few days later to say that the firm had decided to not move forward I was deeply puzzled.

  • A Few Good Men

    Son, we live in a world that has walls and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who’s gonna do it? You? You lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know, that Santiago’s death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don’t want the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall.

    We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick a weapon and stand a post.

    — Aaron Sorkin, monologue by Jack Nicholson’s character in A Few Good Men.

    No apologies. This quote is simply a guilty pleasure.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.