Am I shallow? (A reflection on Culture)

    So, I just watched a video review of Ready Player One, and it's quite apparent the reviewer did not enjoy the novel. I watched the whole thing, listened to what he had to say, and was just about to post a comment about how I disagree with his opinion but hey, to each their own. I then saw that there are indeed 1000s of comments on the video already, and maybe it would be better (though even more obscure) to post my thoughts here instead, as upon further reflection they have less to do with that individual's actual review and more so to do with my personality and how I view the culture that I choose to surround myself with.
     It is difficult to admit that one has enjoyed something others might call "shallow" in one's past. It's even more difficult to admit that you're enjoying something of little substance or meaning right now. But I am. And I'd like to admit to myself in this post why that is, and if that's the right mindset moving forwards.   
     I like Ready Player One. I've read the book multiple times, though I have not seen the movie. I've heard that the protagonist Wade is considered by some to be a misogynist, and that worries me because I honestly don't understand what is meant by that. I'm worried I missed the cues in the book because somewhere deep down I'm the same way. Or maybe it's just autism. That last sentence isn't just some snarky "edgy" comment, by the way. I really do have high-functioning autism, and it has historically affected the ways I interpret social cues, sometimes missing them completely.
     My point is that I'm worried I'm wrong, somewhere deep in my psyche. I don't care if I get something menial in my day-to-day wrong, like what the weather is expected to be for that day, or the answer to a math problem. Those are easy fixes, minor errors with little repercussion to anybody if I don't get them right the first time. What I'm worried about is that I have some deep-seated issue that my enjoying Ready Player One is a symptom of. And yeah, that's a pretty innocent symptom if so, but what if that issue persists into greater and more meaningful consequences later on?
     It occurs to me that this post is titled "Am I shallow?", and yet I have done little to discuss this question in any meaningful way besides a potential deep-rooted misogyny. It feels silly to address the question, because I feel I already know the answer. Of course I'm not shallow, how could I be shallow? I have so many thoughts on life and the state of being we humans call our existence. How could I, of all people, be shallow?
     Well, how about the fact that I got maybe 30% of the references in RPO, and yet I felt that little undeserved "aha" moment every time a reference came up, regardless of context or relevance to the plot? Am I simply part of the problem of an ever-increasing "nerd culture" that trains itself to nod thoughtfully every time they hear what sounds like a reference, even if that reference means nothing to them or the context it's used in? Am I simply the product of a culture built on basic pattern recognition as a basis for comedy and entertainment? We're more than that, aren't we? Aren't we?
     These are all heavy questions. They make me resent my own culture, that is my personality. My thoughts and experiences lie largely in what has been conceptualized, constructed, and immortalized in other people's lives, cultures of the ever-aging past. My culture is that of a pond filled with rainwater, recycled over and over again in a self-perpetuating wheel of reference and ego.
     There is hope. There is a way out of this shallow pool of pop culture references and narrow worldviews: doing something. Seriously, think about it. When we attempt to do something, to create a new experience, a new memory, we are creating our own culture. We do what we do, and that becomes life. Not what anyone else does or says, though they may influence us, but us. Our lives become our own the more we choose to do something with them. It could be something as simple as walking down the road and seeing what's what, or driving somewhere we've never been, or helping someone out just because we want to. The more we create and live our lives, the less we rely on the experiences of others to dictate our fundamental principles and general way of life. Again, what people say and do are certainly factors in what we say or do, but they are not our gospel. We become masters of our own individual destinies. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to live for what I believe right now to be right, and see what happens. I will attempt to compromise my morals as little as possible, while also maximizing the amount of what I perceive to be as "good" done in this world. While I'm alive, I will live, do, and create for and from my perspective, with the knowledge that humility as well as confidence are equally necessary to each other in order to achieve what I would call a good Culture of Self. I will, from this moment forward, live my life to it's fullest, however I may see fit to do so and with confidence. Here's to the future: It won't last forever, so enjoy it when it comes, and build off it as it passes. Thank you if you're not me and read all of this. I appreciate you, and I hope you have a wonderful day. :)
 

1. The Great Machine

Art is the greatest pursuit, I think.

No better person to say that than an artist, eh? Like a lottery winner telling you investing your earnings in Powerball really works, guys! But alas, it's not to be.

I remember a friend of mine, Dayken was his name. He used to create the most beautiful portraits I'd ever seen. I distinctly remember having a conversation with him one day while he was outlining the features of a beautiful young woman in his main foyer. Dayken was a wealthy young inheritor of his family's riches, you see. Acres upon acres of beautiful grassland for him to be inspired by, and yet he saw beauty only in that of a human configuration. On this particular day, however, I remember prodding him some, teasing him about how he would draw only the beautiful and wealthy. I have only ever seen Dayken stop in the middle of a piece twice in the time I've known him, and that day was the first. He stopped what he was doing, much to the dismay of the fine young beauty sitting not a few feet away from us, and turned to me with a stern expression and fire in his eyes. However, Dayken is a shy man, so he spoke to me almost as if to not disturb the fine china resting on display nearby. "It is the beauty within that I see, Jacob" he said, "If you can find a vagrant down at the market worth exhibiting, I will gladly paint them for you if you should so desire". Of course, such was an interesting proposal to me, seeing as I had come to know many faces in my formative years down in the town's market square, and not many would I assign the label of a "true vagrant". But, in retrospect, such a proposal was foolish given the War's raging ferocity on even a small village like Samston, and the rapid introduction of The Great Machine. After all, why bother painting a vagrant (let alone paint at all) when the Machine could dispense works in such quantity and quality that even myself, being the prevalent musical talent I was, could no longer keep up with its splendid, accursed symphonies?

Indeed, Dayken or not, who could stand to a force so unnatural and yet so very human as to not only mimic humanity, but to represent it far better than any poet or creator of things could?

So, dear reader, this is the story of how I did just that, and the terrible truths I learned in the process.

Something Different (Ego?)

Often I wonder why I do things like this. Why bother documenting what will most likely never be re-read by anyone? Ego, perhaps. Wanting to be remembered. Maybe I should just write a book and get it over with.

That's what I see this whole thing as, I suppose. An exercise in ego. So why do it?

I want to try something different.

Ages of things.

Y'know, it just occurred to me that this platform has been around for so long, and yet I'm only just now really giving it a shot. Then again, this platform is relatively young compared to one like television or stage performance, and even younger still compared to time itself. I hate when I do that, but it keeps things in perspective.

Let's see where the wind blows.

I have no idea what I'm going to do with this, but I'm going to do something.

Ideas:
-Stories relating to music
-Music-based trivia
-Daily life stuff
-Whatever comes out of my brain when I'm feeling "inspired"
-Audio recordings of stuuuuuuuuuff