You Are Boring

yourmonkeycalled:

Here’s the full text of a piece I wrote for The Magazine a few months ago. I really enjoyed writing it, and would like to thank Marco once again for publishing it there. If you haven’t checked out The Magazine yet, you should. Anyway, here’s why you’re a total snooze:

Everything was going great until you showed up. You see me across the crowded room, make your way over, and start talking at me. And you don’t stop.

You are a Democrat, an outspoken atheist, and a foodie. You like to say “Science!” in a weird, self-congratulatory way. You wear jeans during the day, and fancy jeans at night. You listen to music featuring wispy lady vocals and electronic bloop-bloops.

You really like coffee, except for Starbucks, which is the worst. No wait—Coke is the worst! Unless it’s Mexican Coke, in which case it’s the best.

Pixar. Kitty cats. Uniqlo. Bourbon. Steel-cut oats. Comic books. Obama. Fancy burgers.

You listen to the same five podcasts and read the same seven blogs as all your pals. You stay up late on Twitter making hashtagged jokes about the event that everyone has decided will be the event about which everyone jokes today. You love to send withering @ messages to people like Rush Limbaugh—of course, those notes are not meant for their ostensible recipients, but for your friends, who will chuckle and retweet your savage wit.

You are boring. So, so boring.

Don’t take it too hard. We’re all boring. At best, we’re recovering bores. Each day offers a hundred ways for us to bore the crap out of the folks with whom we live, work, and drink. And on the internet, you’re able to bore thousands of people at once.1

A few years ago, I had a job that involved listening to a ton of podcasts. It’s possible that I’ve heard more podcasts than anyone else—I listened to at least a little bit of tens of thousands of shows. Of course, the vast majority were so bad I’d often wish microphones could be sold only to licensed users. But I did learn how to tell very quickly whether someone was interesting or not.

The people who were interesting told good stories. They were also inquisitive: willing to work to expand their social and intellectual range. Most important, interesting people were also the best listeners. They knew when to ask questions. This was the set of people whose shows I would subscribe to, whose writing I would seek out, and whose friendship I would crave. In other words, those people were the opposite of boring.

Here are the three things they taught me.

Read More

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secretrepublic:

titularhumour:

blech:

Driving directions between two houses in Florida (specifically, a suburb of Orlando) that share a back garden fence: “7.0 mi, 17 mins”. Via Eric C, via Eric Fisher.

Amazing.

It’s a more complex problem than just low density, but an easier one to fix. The suburbs need a retrofit.

secretrepublic:

titularhumour:

blech:

Driving directions between two houses in Florida (specifically, a suburb of Orlando) that share a back garden fence: “7.0 mi17 mins”. Via Eric C, via Eric Fisher.

Amazing.

It’s a more complex problem than just low density, but an easier one to fix. The suburbs need a retrofit.

Cite Arrow reblogged from secretrepublic
stilllifequickheart:

Leah Giberson
Summer Loungers
2013
(a note about today’s posts)
Cite Arrow reblogged from unsorted-posts

humanscalecities:

Shocking images from the ’50s, how the early days of suburban sprawl looked like

Beautiful and Terrible: Aeriality and the Image of Suburbia

Aerial suburbia = automatic reblog

Cite Arrow reblogged from titularhumour

fuckyeahdementia:

Alan!

(Source: diplosomia)

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deliciouskaek:

bakethatlinguist:

smokewhisper:

I wish this kind of thing was more addressed in politics :(

ALWAYS REBLOG

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deliciouskaek:

bakethatlinguist:

smokewhisper:

I wish this kind of thing was more addressed in politics :(

ALWAYS REBLOG

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(Source: jellybutterfly)

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synmirror:

brocatus: letsbuildahome-fr:
A bright video screen shows images of blue sky on Tiananmen Square during a time of dangerous levels of air pollution, on January 23, 2013 in Beijing. (Feng Li/Getty Images)

synmirror:

brocatus: letsbuildahome-fr:

A bright video screen shows images of blue sky on Tiananmen Square during a time of dangerous levels of air pollution, on January 23, 2013 in Beijing. (Feng Li/Getty Images)

Cite Arrow reblogged from synmirror
nicolelavelle:



Our new house (car)
Same color, year, everything.



Congrats! Ours is an ‘87, and is maroon (red?) in colour. It’s a beautiful life!

nicolelavelle:

Our new house (car)

Same color, year, everything.

Congrats! Ours is an ‘87, and is maroon (red?) in colour. It’s a beautiful life!

Cite Arrow reblogged from nicolelavelle
sexpigeon:

The sad story of Jughead is that he’s the coolest of them all. You realize this when you’re in your later teens. Archie is a solipsistic twit. Reggie probably beats up girls. Moose seems like a decent guy, but hotheaded and plain-dumb. Jughead, now Jughead, Jughead has only animal cravings and thinks only beautiful thoughts. When Jughead is tired, he sleeps. When Jughead is hungry, which is at all times except for when he is tired, Jughead eats. He lives poetically. A hamburger is his muse: he thinks of nothing but.
In your late twenties you realize that the Jughead model is not sustainable. Jughead, jobless, tries for a second bachelor’s degree. Takes up juggling, hits on undergraduates. Always trying to start a massage circle, Jughead. His eyes, once casual slivers of self-assuredness, are now big moons of needy. You still like Jughead, right?
You haven’t talked to Jughead in a long time. You moved to the city, he stayed in Riverdale. Cheaper rent, and “the city is over, man, it’s gentrified, now all the artists live out here.” Riverdale has a great little scene, he assures anyone at all.
The last time you see Jughead, besides on Facebook (which Jughead purports to hate and which Jughead uses far more than you do), is at some kind of protest downtown. You’re having lunch with coworkers and Jughead is yelling rhyming couplets into a megaphone. He’s wearing a jester hat and it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

sexpigeon:

The sad story of Jughead is that he’s the coolest of them all. You realize this when you’re in your later teens. Archie is a solipsistic twit. Reggie probably beats up girls. Moose seems like a decent guy, but hotheaded and plain-dumb. Jughead, now Jughead, Jughead has only animal cravings and thinks only beautiful thoughts. When Jughead is tired, he sleeps. When Jughead is hungry, which is at all times except for when he is tired, Jughead eats. He lives poetically. A hamburger is his muse: he thinks of nothing but.

In your late twenties you realize that the Jughead model is not sustainable. Jughead, jobless, tries for a second bachelor’s degree. Takes up juggling, hits on undergraduates. Always trying to start a massage circle, Jughead. His eyes, once casual slivers of self-assuredness, are now big moons of needy. You still like Jughead, right?

You haven’t talked to Jughead in a long time. You moved to the city, he stayed in Riverdale. Cheaper rent, and “the city is over, man, it’s gentrified, now all the artists live out here.” Riverdale has a great little scene, he assures anyone at all.

The last time you see Jughead, besides on Facebook (which Jughead purports to hate and which Jughead uses far more than you do), is at some kind of protest downtown. You’re having lunch with coworkers and Jughead is yelling rhyming couplets into a megaphone. He’s wearing a jester hat and it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

Cite Arrow reblogged from sexpigeon