Eros, Logos, The Man & The Band
This is funny. Or alarming. Or both.
I’ve re-learned an important life lesson in the last few weeks.
Remember when you were taught how to write a persuasive essay in grammar school? The form is simple: state your argument in the thesis, and support it with at least three data points. (I’m not sure that’s how Miss Purcell explained it, but close.)
Somewhere along the way, that formula’s lost on people, including — to some degree — myself. I’ve found that we cling to our arguments based on some sort of emotional connection to the past. So, when something like Web 2.0 comes along, people resist things like, say, blogging or embracing community or responding directly to audience feedback.
I read somewhere that the first half of our lives are spent developing that which comes naturally, and the second half is about developing that which doesn’t. I’m not quite to midlife yet, but in the past few weeks I’ve really seen a shift to more logos-based thinking.
A prime example is the image above.
I consider myself to be more eros than logos, that is: more creative than logical, more intuitive than intellectual, more art than science. And that may be true. But at work, anyway, I am surrounded by people whose arguments are almost entirely based on feelings and habits. So, at wits end with some recurring arguments, I’ve embraced math.
Now, I wasn’t at wits end with Chris, Tony or Ryan when I came up with the Excel document — possibly my least rock ‘n roll move in regards the band ever — pictured here. We were just having a tough time tracking each other’s schedules, and we have a lot goin’ on. In fact, I have some fairly big news to that end …
But more on that next week.
A Ghost Of Hearts
Like a lot of guys of my generation, Chris Suchorsky’s mind was blown by “The Empire Strikes Back.” What distinguished Chris most of the rest of us, though, was how geeked out he was by the making-of documentary he saw on HBO.
When Chris saw Kevin Smith’s no-budget, 1994 Sundance phenomena, “Clerks,” he wanted in on his New Jersey neighbor’s racket. A self-described “typical everyday Slacker, C student,” he doubled up and even audited film classes at Seton Hall. Once graduated, he began working in advertising, saving money, and writing his screenplay, “Executing Love.”
By the summer of 2000, I’d had it with the Advertising Agency and decided to shoot my film. I based my actions/steps on Robert Rodriguez’s “Rebel Without a Crew,” an autobiographical account of his attempt to make, “El Mariachi.” Rodriguez shot the film by himself for $7000, and sold it to Hollywood for around 1 million.
I set out to shoot a 95 page script in 6 six days, I rented equipment I could not afford, and I hired people (friends) who could not act. This was my failure.
A day or so after my film career ended, I had an idea. Why not turn my failed attempt into a documentary? Why not tell the story of a person trying to achieve a life-long dream and watch it fall apart? This film would become “Failure.”
Check your local listings; Chris’ how-NOT-to-make-a-movie documentary, “Failure” is probably playing on IFC right now.
I came across Chris via his new film, “Golden Days.” The doc follows indie rockers, The Damnwells, through a major label tussle not dissimilar from Wilco’s (also documented in Sam Jones’ “I Am Trying To Break your Heart”).
Please visit my “Making ‘Mister Rogers & Me’” blog to read all about Chris and my night on the town.
