I watched The Hunt For Red October, and it was good. It wasn’t very realistic, nor was it particularly thought provoking or artful, but it was good. A few days ago we watched National Treasure: I and II. They were not very realistic, nor were they particularly though provoking or artful, but they were good. They’re completely absurd films, but if you enjoy them for what they are,absurd comedy adventure films played straight, they’re excellent. 

Aesthetically our culture has an obession with difference. We want so badly to be unique, to be first, to be cooler than others. We don’t want to do a thing better, we want to do an entirely new thing. I’m guilty of just such an approach. I’m so competitive that I often refuse to play the game, I’ll change the rules just so I can’t be beaten, that’s how much I hate to lose. It has become enough of a tradition and a trend that I don’t really feel all that competitive anymore, and maybe that’s part of the problem. 

At art school they frame the conversation as though it’s all a competition, that we can win by being the most creative. The reality ought to be a pursuit of goodness, an adventure towards producing work that people enjoy, that makes them feel more human and loved. Instead we compete for who can push boundaries the most aggressively and upset people.

Maybe that’s because people love Picasso now, but they hated him in his younger days, same with Van Gogh, except they bullied him so hard he took the easy way out.

I find it kind of odd that the message people take from the likes of those two Europeans is that being hated for your work is the path to being universally loved forever for it.

That is literally insane and also cringe. 

What’s so wrong with wanting to be loved? With wanting to make people feel happy, and human? Our entire architectural landscape is dominated by creative people who want to be unique or agitating in some way, it sucks.

I just want to look at nice things, and read books that are fun. I already think plenty, I think things over, and over again. I like to go out and think and I like to stay in and think, my brain does all the long-suffering for me, I don’t need to do it in a movie theater or in front of the fire with a paperback.

Maybe I’m just especially sophisticated and cool, that’s why I can enjoy National Treasure II: Book of Secrets as well as books about the Horus Heresy and Steely Dan. That must be it.

What the fuck is going on?