Edition #34: A Case for Being Weird
Plus, an essential essay from literary star Brit Bennett, a designer that turned out to be AI, and a magic trick
A Note From the Editor
There was a girl in my sorority in college — sweet, if not a little vanilla— who would look at me with a wide-eyed gaze and exclaim, “you are so weird!” Her remarks never bothered me, as having a sailor's mouth and getting bangs was enough to be deemed strange in her eyes, though I did always wonder whether the designation was intended as an insult or a compliment. If she thinks I’m weird now, I would think, she should’ve met me when I was a kid.
The tales from my childhood are regurgitated versions of stories told and re-told by my family so frequently that they’ve melded with my own memories. I was a spunky child, quick to clap back, and always willing to voice my opinions. My mother recalls how I would often sit on the couch in our living room, pantless, my legs splayed open. When my siblings told me to put some clothes on and sit like a lady because their friends were coming over, I’d retort “This is my house! If they don’t like it, they can leave.”
I wasn’t just occasionally “fresh,” as my mother put it, I was also a little weirdo. I had nightly conversations with my shower faucet, aptly named Mr. Faucet, about how my day went or the status of my school crush. At sleepovers, I’d have similar conversations with my friend’s faucets (whom I’d refer to as Aunt Faucet, Mrs. Faucet, Cousin Faucet, etc.). One day, at CCD, my older sister got released from her confirmation class early and came to wait outside my communion classroom. When she peeked through the window to look for me, everyone’s eyes were closed, heads ducked in prayer. I opened my eyes, not seeing my sister at the window, looked left and right, then put my hands on either side of my face and did the “Walk Like an Egyptian” dance, my head bobbing forward and backward. Another time, I decided to snip a bit of my hair off because I couldn’t bother brushing through its stubborn knots, resulting in a spiky tuft resembling that of a cockatoo holding a permanent residence at the tip of my forehead.
As children, our spirits are unbridled. We believe in magic and Santa, in ourselves and in our dreams— even if our dream is to one day become a butterfly, or a veterinarian, or an astronaut, all unlikely avenues in adulthood. Before disdainful naysayers assured us that becoming a butterfly is physically impossible and before we were aware that talking to a faucet is strange, we were nothing but ourselves; untainted by aggregate opinions, sharing our thoughts, quirks, and questions with reckless abandon. It’s why at almost every wedding, you’ll find a little boy spinning around on the dance floor, unconcerned with what onlookers think of his “breakdancing”. Fast forward a few years, and those same boys litter the sidelines of the middle school dance, hardly recalling a time where they would dream of doing otherwise.
What if we had the courage to embrace our eccentricity with open arms, to actively cultivate it? After all, strangeness is what makes people interesting, and living in a way that allows you to be the closest version of your authentic self is liberating. Maybe you’re already living this way, or maybe you’ve gotten so far from it that you’re unsure who that person is— if so, look back to your childhood self for clues. You’ll be surprised, and maybe even delighted, by what you uncover. As for me, I hope to one day be as bona fide as this guy, a lesson on the beauty of embracing your weirdness.
Cheers, my dears. If you’d like a bit more on the subject, I’d suggest this piece. Were you a weird kid? Has it carried over into adulthood? I want to hear all about it.
Three Pieces of Content Worth Consuming:
An Essential Essay: ‘I Don’t Know What To Do With Good White People’. Anyone loosely related to the literary world will have heard of Brit Bennett by now, the breakout star whose first novel is being adapted into a TV show by Kerry Washington and whose second is already holding court on the NY Times bestseller list one month after release. I did some research on Bennett after reading the latter and came across this essay from 2015, exploring the intersection of racism and (uselessness) intentions. Bennett explores our convoluted idea of racism, how we prefer to think we’re marching past our dirty history, and how we expect racism to manifest itself in the same flavor of white-hooded evil as told by our textbooks rather than opening our eyes to its more nuanced, modern-day formats. If I haven’t convinced you to read it already, this passage certainly will:
“Sometimes I think good white people expect to be rewarded for their decency. We are not like those other white people. See how enlightened and aware we are? See how we are good? What a privilege, to concern yourself with seeming good while the rest of us want to seem worthy of life.”
The Talented Designer That Turned Out to be AI. Artistry in any form does not bring forth the same sense of job security as white-collar work, except in the case of robots taking over all menial tasks. "Robots can't make art," many creative types argue, hoping their livelihood will morph into a more secure avenue of work in our presumptively automated future. Except that apparently, robots can make art— just ask the Russian design firm that passed off a piece of AI as a talented designer named “Nikolay Ironov,” who designed logos for the likes of influencers, corporate brands, and restaurants.
A Thought-Provoking Critique of Taylor Swift’s Latest Album. Have you listened to Folklore yet? I know what you’re thinking, either “of course I did, I love anything by Taylor Swift," or "god no, her music is trash." Whichever side you fall on, I suggest reading this ruminative criticism of her new album. I've listened to most of it (admittedly, I’m a long-time fan) and couldn't quite put my finger on what was different this time around until reading this piece. The album deviates from Swift's usual, in-your-face style of lyricism and into something more exploratory, even whimsical. I especially loved learning the backstories of a few of the album’s tracks— ones that, thankfully, aren’t centered around bad breakups.
Perhaps You Should…
Write a Sticky Note to New York
New Yorkers have a love for their city that others can hardly fathom— a great, complex love, so full of glee and disdain and longing that it feels like, well, real love. Even if you aren’t a New Yorker, you’ll probably appreciate this beautiful data visualization project that displays the hopes, dreams, and nostalgic longings for the city that once was. Not feeling so sentimental? Trying writing your “leaving New York” essay instead, using this handy chart.
**Bonus Content** (A Magic Trick!)
I’ve always been a sucker for a good magic trick, and after reading this piece on the techniques magicians and mentalists use to plant ideas in the minds of their audience, I’ve got one for you that I’d like to try out. Here it goes:
First, pick a number between 1-10. Multiply that number by 9. Now, add the two numbers together (to make a single-digit number) and subtract 5.
Next, match your number with a corresponding letter of the alphabet. (Ex: A-1, B-2, C-3, D-4, E-5, F-6, etc.)
With your letter in mind, think of a country that begins with that letter. Got it?
Okay, now think of an animal that begins with the second letter of your chosen country.
Lastly, think of the color of the animal. Now hold the color in your mind, hold it, and wait for it….was it gray? And was the country Denmark? Let me know in the comments below!
A Comic by Holly | Lost at Sea
Every week for the month of July, my talented friend Holly is creating a hand-drawn comic for the newsletter. Suggestions for next week’s comic? Drop them in the comments below.
A Quote From A Book You Should Read:
“The hardest part about becoming someone else was deciding to. The rest was only logistics.”
-The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett
This newsletter is best served with a side of conversation, so drop your opinions, reflections, and thoughts in the comments below and let’s get to talking.
Or, share the most thought-provoking piece from today’s edition with someone you love, then call them up to discuss, debate, and percolate. As a wise woman once said, “Great minds discuss ideas.”
Love you, you weirdo. I remember when you cut your hair and denied it for years (to the point where I questioned my own sanity). And I'm reliving it all right now since I have your clone as a child. Jesus take the wheel :)
Love love love weird little baby Meghan! I'm weird, always have been. Weird people are the most interesting!
Also, Britt Bennett is so talented and insightful.