Ed -- thanks for linking to my review! My reaction to the book was ultimately mixed, but, interestingly, the book actually discusses (or implies) some of the things you're talking about here. But if you didn't like the Goop piece, I think it will probably not be your thing.
FWIW I thought the eclipse was fun precisely because it was a rare monocultural moment that wasn't in the political sphere (e.g., we are all watching The Trump Show whether we want to or not). It was nice to just go outside and see a hundred people all simultaneously appreciating nature! Arguably it was nicer than the eclipse itself (which was probably very cool if you were directly in the path of totality but even at some big number like 90% coverage was... kind of underwhelming!)
This post reminds me of a Rick Beato video I watched last week discussing the shifts in (mono)culture and how Taylor Swift, as an example, is simultaneously bigger than most contemporary artists we might think of and still unknown to a large chunk of the world. Like you say, it's silos and corridors.
It's a topic that fascinates me as well. I see the alternate realities (I like to call them fanon in my work bc I focus on fandom stuff) constantly.
(And I had never heard of Oyler until Substack started feeding me posts about reviews of her recent book!)
I think this is a mixed bag. On the one hand, it probably does something to cement the national character to have a basic common set of cultural references. At the very least (in the Anglosphere) the Bible and a bunch of phrases from Shakespeare and Aesop that even ordinary people know. Beyond that, though, I don’t know. Maybe all this proves is that common taste in art is frequently a distraction and a substitute for real human interaction. Now that we can all be siloed in our respective art-corridors, perhaps we can give up the illusion that talking about pop stars is meaningful, and we can return to talking to our neighbors about our children, our health, and our gardens—in other words, the material reality of our lives.
Ed -- thanks for linking to my review! My reaction to the book was ultimately mixed, but, interestingly, the book actually discusses (or implies) some of the things you're talking about here. But if you didn't like the Goop piece, I think it will probably not be your thing.
FWIW I thought the eclipse was fun precisely because it was a rare monocultural moment that wasn't in the political sphere (e.g., we are all watching The Trump Show whether we want to or not). It was nice to just go outside and see a hundred people all simultaneously appreciating nature! Arguably it was nicer than the eclipse itself (which was probably very cool if you were directly in the path of totality but even at some big number like 90% coverage was... kind of underwhelming!)
This post reminds me of a Rick Beato video I watched last week discussing the shifts in (mono)culture and how Taylor Swift, as an example, is simultaneously bigger than most contemporary artists we might think of and still unknown to a large chunk of the world. Like you say, it's silos and corridors.
It's a topic that fascinates me as well. I see the alternate realities (I like to call them fanon in my work bc I focus on fandom stuff) constantly.
(And I had never heard of Oyler until Substack started feeding me posts about reviews of her recent book!)
I think this is a mixed bag. On the one hand, it probably does something to cement the national character to have a basic common set of cultural references. At the very least (in the Anglosphere) the Bible and a bunch of phrases from Shakespeare and Aesop that even ordinary people know. Beyond that, though, I don’t know. Maybe all this proves is that common taste in art is frequently a distraction and a substitute for real human interaction. Now that we can all be siloed in our respective art-corridors, perhaps we can give up the illusion that talking about pop stars is meaningful, and we can return to talking to our neighbors about our children, our health, and our gardens—in other words, the material reality of our lives.