In a recent long New York Times article, the author writes about GenX artists and the arts of our generation, and posits that our generation might be the greatest of them all. (We're not, really)
But this sentence hit me in the gut.
"Hunting down an obscure film, checking out the band your friend told you about, asking the clerk at the used bookstore to recommend a zine: What an algorithm now does used to be an act of creativity and will. You felt like you could go through life on the a la carte menu, taking what you needed, fashioning a self in the process."
This. This is what I miss, and it's some of what I get from friendships in the Fediverse.
It's how I became who I am--friends told me to read Audre Lorde and Octavia Butler, they told me to listen to the Indigo Girls and Joan Armatrading, they loaned me their copy of Tracy Chapman's album or their beat up copy of Flowers in the Attic. Friends introduced me to indy film like Desert Hearts and Do the Right Thing, and Ethiopian or Vietnamese restaurants.
Friends also offered up things I didn't like: David Lynch's Blue Velvet, guacamole (it was the cilantro, and I didn't know it yet), being Republican. What I took, and what I didn't take, defined me.
I don't miss mixtapes--all the work of waiting for a song to come up on the radio and pushing the record button at just the right time? No thanks. Give me the ability to make playlists. I don't miss Blockbuster--I'm grateful for streaming services. And I don't miss no one caring where I am.
I do miss the cultural influence friends had.
Right now, the algorithms of YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram feel empty. I'm mad at Apple Music for going the way of Spotify.
Today, Erik recommends a concert, Hollie a book, CJ a holiday movie. I can like them or not. But it's my choice to try things out, my choice to like them or not.
Friends, keep suggesting things to me.
