The Web's Grain

Frank Chimero on designing without borders:

Edgelessness is in the web’s structure: it’s comprised of individual pages linked together, so its structure can branch out forever.

Edgelessness applies to the screens that show the web, because they offer an infinite canvas that can scroll in any direction for however long. Boy, do we take for granted that a screen can show more content than is able to be displayed in a single shot.

Later, he continues:

A quick example from my life: Twitter didn’t replace Facebook. The iPad didn’t replace my phone. My phone didn’t replace my TV. Now, I watch YouTube on my iPad, toss the video up to my TV, while checking Twitter and Facebook on my phone. It’s a little constellation of technology. But I keep asking myself: how many more things can I juggle? And for how long?

Read the whole thing - it's a storytelling and design experience that shouldn't be missed by anyone with any interest in how designing for the internet should work.

If you look hard enough, it translates to all forms of storytelling. One film-related example is crafting an interactive documentary experience, like Elaine McMillon's Hollow. Or any modern marketing campaign. It's about taking little pieces of a larger whole - a picture here, a tweet there, and creating a cohesive message that connects you with people who want to see your work. It's like a sophisticated method of tearing a bunch of pages out of a book and piecing them back together side by side.

Designing the perfect stapler

Ian Parker profiles Apple's Jony Ive for The New Yorker:

According to Clive Grinyer, “Jon’s always wanted to do luxury.” By this point, Grinyer said, Ive had already fulfilled one duty of industrial design: to design a perfect stapler, for everyone, in a world of lousy staplers. (Most designers driven by that philosophy “didn’t really rule the world,” Grinyer said. “They just ruled staplers.”) 

The key to designing the perfect stapler, in my mind, is to make paper nearly obsolete by designing the iPhone, iPad, and Mac.

The retroactive reaction

When will we stop missing the bigger issue?

The following is from Jon Ronson, writing an adaptation from his upcoming book, “So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed,” for The New York Times Magazine. On Justine Sacco:

Sacco had been three hours or so into her flight when retweets of her joke began to overwhelm my Twitter feed. I could understand why some people found it offensive. Read literally, she said that white people don’t get AIDS, but it seems doubtful many interpreted it that way. More likely it was her apparently gleeful flaunting of her privilege that angered people. But after thinking about her tweet for a few seconds more, I began to suspect that it wasn’t racist but a reflexive critique of white privilege — on our tendency to naïvely imagine ourselves immune from life’s horrors. Sacco, like Stone, had been yanked violently out of the context of her small social circle. Right?

Sam Biddle for Gawker in a mea culpa of sorts:

Justine Sacco has a PR job she enjoys now, but she deserves the best and biggest PR job, whatever that may be. Give it all to her.

These articles, while important for entirely different reasons, are missing the bigger issue. They’re looking at a woman against a mob, which is certainly one angle, but I believe a more pressing conversation could have come from this situation. This was a chance to begin a conversation about the mentality of white free-from-consequence privilge. Instead, we seem to be set to perpetuate that privilge.

A day after this happened, back on December 21, 2013, I wrote about this. Some of it will be quoted below. I still stand behind every word I wrote. 

Perpetuating her privilge is why comments coming from white guys like Ronson, Biddle, and Dave Pell claiming, “It was almost all about fun and entertainment,” really piss me off. I’m not going to rail on any of these writers for having blind spots, but I do have a problem with them putting everyone in buckets, and more or less apologizing for her after the fact. What she said was terrible. Yet, the overreaction following has absolutely nothing—nothing—to do with the real issue here: Why it was wrong for a person whose job title included the words senior public relations to ever say that in a public forum.

They may claim, “Of course it was awful! I would never condone anything like that,” and I would believe them. I don’t doubt that they’re good people. That still doesn’t change this attempt (by a PR professional, no less) to whitewash this incident after the fact. To make the top Google search result a positive Justine Sacco story, instead of a critical conversation about race. 

Job well done.

So, as for my question from 14 months ago:

Although she now finds herself without a job, that simply sweeps the issue under the rug. The internet feels like they won. And while someone who probably should not have been in a high ranking position at a huge company like IAC (About.com, Dictionary.com, Match.com, CollegeHumor, Vimeo, and many more websites you’ve heard of) lost her job, did she — or anyone, for that matter — actually learn anything? 

The answer is a resounding, “No.”

Now, there is absolutely a point to be made by those quoted before. The mob mentality of the internet is downright dangerous. One thing I made sure to be very clear about in my original post was the following:

[She doesn’t deserve] to be torn apart for the downright dumb things [she] said this week. Nothing should condone violence. Anyone threatening Ms. Sacco for her racist remark is just as wrong as she was when she hit “Tweet.”

But I’d argue there’s better causes right under their noses worth calling out than trying to clear the name of Justine Sacco.

No matter how innocent her intent, no matter her family history, no matter the inappropriate response of many (most?), some things have not changed.

Like this:

I have to interview with people like Ms. Sacco if I want a job in communication or marketing … And while it’d be just as wrong of me to generalize every white person in a managerial position at every company, hearing comments like this are harder and harder to digest when I get rejection letter after rejection letter.

This still hasn’t changed:

How am I supposed to feel when I see company websites featuring pictures of their employees and not a single one is black?

Or this:

It’s not about ignoring color, or gender, or sexuality. I know many gay people who are all extremely proud of their sexuality, as they should be, and pretending like their sexuality doesn’t exist is just as unfair.

But most of all:

It’s about understanding that when you surround yourself only with people who look, and talk, and act like you — you can’t pretend to know how someone else feels.

And finally:

Ms. Sacco can delete her Twitter account (and she has) and while she’s currently without a job, I doubt it will be a permanent situation. If over 1.7 million people support Phil Robertson, I’m sure she’ll find at least one who supports her.

But the rest of us can’t change our skin color, or gender, or sexual orientation. And that’s why comments like this are not ok.

We wonder why diversity in tech is almost nonexistent, but then we’re willing to so quickly move on from this. We’re willing to ignore the attitude that shapes the culture that influences the hiring decisions.

She wasn’t doing her best Stephen Colbert impression. She wasn’t writing headlines for The Onion. Instead, she posted a bad joke on her personal Twitter account to only a handful of friends and followers, mixed in between what were completely average, benign tweets.

Am I the only one that finds it dangerous to retroactively file that under “satire”?

Interview with DP Bradford Young

Bradford Young, director of photography for films including Selma, Ain't Them Bodies Saints, and A Most Violent Year in an interview with Grantland:

Filmmaking isn’t considered an art form in America, it’s considered a business first and foremost. Those who are artists, who get a chance to say something in the context of a business outfit, are the lucky ones, and they are far and few between. There are not a lot of us who can say we’re artists working in the film context. Basically, all this reminds us is that we’ve got to know who we are, we’ve got to remember who we are, and we’ve got to know that we come from culture and we come from stories, and stories are not about fact. Storytelling is the oldest art form in the world, and what it consists of is allegory and mythology. Stories were never sanctioned to be real, that’s not why we do what we do. 

Paul Thomas Anderson's Filmography

From Still Smokin': An Interview with Paul Thomas Anderson by David Ehrlich:

Save for perhaps Punch-Drunk Love, which exists in the sweet synesthesia of its own dimension, each of Anderson’s films is a time capsule, a period piece, or both. With each successive feature, it grows ever more tempting to re-arrange his features by the chronology of their stories and look at his body of work as an alternate history of 20th century America. Anderson may not see much value in such an exercise (“Fuck. I mean, that would be cool, I guess. That would be wild!”), but his films nevertheless evince an uncanny ability to recreate the past so that it feels ineffably present.

I'm going to do that one day.

What is white privilege?

Originally published in Culture Club on Medium.

Black privilege is being asked dozens of times throughout your life, “What are you?”

Black privilege is being asked, “Are you sure your name isn’t Muhammad? Are you here to blow the place up?”

Black privilege is having a conversation with your spouse about whether to check “White” or “Black” on your mixed-race child’s medical forms, because there’s no “Other,” “Mixed,” or “Choose to not identify,” in 2014.

Black privilege is worrying that someday, someone might ask whether or not your kid belongs to you because your skin is a bit darker than his.

Black privilege is having your friends tell you, “You act so white,” because you like the same music they do.

Black privilege is being passed over for that job you’re well qualified for because of the way you look.

Black privilege is making up as little as 1 or 2% of the workforce at many of today’s hottest companies—Apple, Google, Facebook, Twitter, Square, and from what I can see, Medium—despite making up more than 13% of the U.S. population.

Black privilege is applying for jobs at those companies and being perceived as “not a culture fit.”

Black privilege is being told, “I’m surprised they didn’t pick you for the random security screening,” at the airport.

Black privilege is being asked if you belong here.

Black privilege is being told, “Go back to Africa,” even though you’ve never even visited Africa.

Black privilege is watching women and men clutch their bags or pull their children away from you because the color of your skin is an intimidating brown.

Black privilege is having the police called on you because you’re walking outside in freezing temperatures with your hands in your pockets.

Black privilege is having a cop scream in your face, because he directed you to go, then changed his mind and told you to stop. Later, you’re thankful that the cop saw you simply as a nuisance and not as a threat. Because we know what can happen when they see you as a threat.

Black privilege is being 3.5 times more likely to be suspended or expelledthan white kids in school.

Black privilege is worrying if your son will come home safely, or if he may be shot dead because of the shade of his skin.

Black privilege is being 21 times more likely to be shot by a police officer as a teen.

White privilege is living your life without ever worrying about any of that.

Self-censorship

President Obama in response to the recent Sony hacks that led to The Interview being pulled from theaters:

"We cannot have a society where some dictator someplace can start imposing censorship here in the United States, because if somebody is able to intimidate folks out of releasing a satirical movie, imagine what they'll do when they see a documentary that they don't like, or news reports that they don't like -- or even worse, imagine if producers or distributors or others start engaging in self-censorship because they don't want to offend the sensibilities of somebody whose sensibilities probably need to be offended," Obama said.

I've been thinking about self-censorship a lot lately. I have a lot of ideas. But many I don't pursue. Why?

Part of the reason is self-censorship - particularly that a certain project or idea doesn't fit me. Or that it may offend someone. 

I think some of that is healthy. There's too much garbage out there that offends just to offend. That in itself isn't art. It's insignificant. But on the other hand, what ideas am I passing on that could speak to something important, but perhaps may not be easy to watch - or for that matter, to create?

You can't write a film like 12 Years A Slave with that mindset. You have to go all in. You have to be willing to lose those viewers to be true. To have impact. The people you lose, you were never going to reach them anyway.

Bass: The law says you have the right to hold a nigger, but begging the law's pardon... it lies. Is everything right because the law allows it? Suppose they'd pass a law taking away your liberty and making you a slave? 

Edwin Epps: Ha! 

Bass: Suppose! 

Edwin Epps: That ain't a supposable case. 

Bass: Because the law states that your liberties are undeniable? Because society deems it so? Laws change. Social systems crumble. Universal truths are constant. It is a fact, it is a plain fact that what is true and right is true and right for all. White and black alike.

excerpted from the 12 Years A Slave screenplay by John Ridley

It's easier said than done. There's a reason you don't see scripts and films like this every day.

Sometimes the things that push boundaries are hard to write simply because you don't want to think about them. But it's critical to be mindful of this. It's important to not fear that someone may be upset by what you say.

Because if what you have to say matters, then say it.

Life after Sundance

Kat Candler, director of Hellion, on life after Sundance:

I do want to emphasize that this wasn’t an overnight success. I’ve been making movies, for well over a decade … shorts, features, music videos, commercials and I’ve been writing lots and lots of scripts. I submitted to Sundance more than I can count on two hands and have gotten rejected almost all those times. But then one day after years and years of honing my craft, taking risks, learning and growing and sticking to my guns, I got in. And yes, it changed my life. And yes, even after having three films play at Sundance, I can’t sit back, relax and wait for the opportunities to roll in. Instead, I still have to get in the ring, put my little gloves on and fight for my life.

Another important reminder that what seems like an overnight success is usually years in the making.

Tyler Deeb's "Coil"

I was fortunate enough to meet up with Tyler Deeb this past spring to talk about his company, Misc. Goods Co., and his creative process for my series Why We Create. His perspective was refreshing - particularly his focus on the idea that nothing lasts forever, so why make everything out to be a life or death decision?

"So many variables are outside of your control. I've come to peace with decisions. You can only make the best decision based on what's available to you at that moment."

He just released a new Kickstarter for a genius method to make iced coffee. It's called Coil. I caught up with Tyler to chat about Coil, but first, watch his installment of Why We Create if you haven't yet.

Do you have any specific processes when coming up with a concept like Coil?

I'm not much of a process thinker -- not sure why that is. I've always been inclined to rely on my gut reaction to ideas and I've often found it difficult to overthink anything. I've wondered in the past if this was my laziness coming through. As if I just was too indifferent to create 10 models of something and critique each one. I've ruled out laziness at this point -- because I objectively look at my work days and see very little slothfulness. Instead, I've come to the working idea that I prefer things to be simple -- and I have a very specific idea of how to see that idea, and when it clicks ... it clicks.

What was your inspiration for creating Coil?

We made Coil for the simple reason that it didn't exist yet, and we believe it has importance. The coffee industry is growing more and more each year; the level of commitment to process is growing with it's popularity. We felt that people were making huge strides in hot brew methods, but that cold coffee was left without a great brewing solution. We thought our Coil solution was better then what is already out there, and we wanted to give it a shot.

What's your process like for translating a complex design into a physical prototype?

So for Coil it started with a prototype that the inventor, Chris Heiniger, showed me. It was a 1 gallon ice cream container with a ton of copper crammed into it. The concept seemed so important and simple that I was immediately attracted to it. From there I drew one sketch in Illustrator, I came back to it every so often over the course of several months and made tweaks. Once I felt as though it was finished I contacted my 3d illustrator and began working with him on a 3d model. After that we printed the model as a 3d print and sent it over to my ceramicist to create a temporary mold. From there we tested several different glazes and finally landed on the iteration you see now.

What's the future for Misc. Goods Co.? Do you think you'll go down the path of coffee-related hardware and expand Coil, or will you continue trying different things?

We believe there is still a lot of room for Coil to grow. I believe that once industry influencers and others get a chance to try the product we will get a second wave of popularity that will outweigh the first. If I'm right, then we will just let the wave carry us as far as it will -- and I'm open to creating more coffee products, as long as I believe they're worth making. But our next product will not be related to coffee -- which I'm equally excited about. We hope to release that product by the summer.

You can support Coil on Kickstarter through Christmas Day.

Getting rid of your ideas

Ideas are easy. So why is coming up with a great idea so hard?

Jason Santa Maria writes:

Over time, I came to realize that the only way to get to the good ideas was to trudge through all the obvious and bad ones first.

I started keeping track of every single idea - whether for a film or other creative project - in text documents, and I soon noticed something. My ideas got better. The more I wrote, the easier it was to write more. Writing really does encourage writing. Ideas formulate more easily the more time you spend in that mindset. Ultimately, it gives you a chance to get through the bad ideas - the ones that are obvious and just sitting on the surface - and get down deep to the better ideas.

But it's important to keep track of the bad ones, too. You can use a notebook or Google docs. I use Notational Velocity on Mac, 1Writer (and sometimes Byword) on iOS, and I sync all the notes in Dropbox. You never know when the dots will connect. A bad idea might inspire a good idea, or maybe it's the missing piece of a different puzzle that you're working on. 

The other cool thing is, months or years later, you can look back on all those notes and ideas. You can see where your head was at. You can be reminded of things that you forgot. Little things that seemed dumb, now make sense in a different way. Sometimes you'll combine them. Sometimes you'll scrap the ones that are really, really bad. Whatever your approach, tracking all your ideas will give you a forward sense of momentum that keeps you from getting stuck. And if you do feel stuck, go grab an old idea and try to look at it in a different way. It works.

The Lost Detective – Behind the scenes stills

Photos provided by Edd Schultz

Behind Enemy Lines: A Very Incomplete Guide to Going to Blue Jackets Games on the Road

Originally posted on The Cannon at SB Nation.

Hockey games are special. Being packed in an arena with 18,000 of your closest friends, rooting on your hometown team is one of the best sports experiences I can remember. What stands out even more than those games played in the friendly confines of Nationwide Arena are the times I've been fortunate enough to see the Blue Jackets play on the road. After seeing the Blue Jackets play in the Honda Center in Anaheim, California, I thought now might be a good time to share some experiences.

First, a fair warning. The first game I saw on the road was in 2007 in Nashville. So it's been seven years. I've also only been to six arenas total for NHL hockey, including Nationwide. I'm sure there are people who've traveled a lot more than I have. I also imagine my experience might be different if, say, I traveled to Philadelphia as a Penguins fan. Until the Blue Jackets make some more noise in the playoffs and enemies on the ice though, I'd say we're pretty safe to travel to any arena without much heckling or hassle.

Nashville

As mentioned, we first set out on the road to see the Jackets play in Nashville at the Gaylord Entertainment Center (now Bridgestone Arena). My then-girlfriend-now-wife and I hit the road for the long drive from Columbus for an evening of fun. It was our first time doing anything like that, and neither of us knew quite what to expect.

We were, to be honest, shocked at how kind the people of Nashville were. We left in the morning and arrived a few hours before the game, so we didn't have a ton of time to explore. But we did walk around Broadway in our Blue Jackets gear and had nothing but nice interactions with other hockey fans. We had dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe, because sometimes you just have to be a tourist when you're away from home.

This was the year the Predators were one of the top teams in the league, and we got to see the likes of Peter Forsberg, Paul Kariya, and Kimmo Timonen take the ice together down south. The fans were not only kind, but once the game started, they were loud. Every fan group should aspire to be like Section 303.

I'm not sure if they still do this, but really not a fan of the giant "Predator" head that lowers down and the team skates through at the start of the game. A cheesy gimmick.

Overall, I couldn't recommend Nashville more, especially for your first road game experience. Being from Columbus, you definitely have a different perspective of the so-called "small market" teams. While a team like a Predators may not rival the Toronto Maple Leafs in terms of history, Stanley Cups, or any other metric that matters to some, what we know better than anyone is there are passionate fans everywhere. And maybe it's because hockey isn't as popular of a sport, or the arenas aren't quite as big as NFL stadiums, so it doesn't attract quite as many people–but we have yet to meet a single jerk. Everyone's just a fan of their team, a fan of this game, and they know that you are, too.

Detroit

Our next road game experience was in 2008. We drove up from Columbus to Joe Louis Arena in Detroit. It's old. Yes, you see sights of hockey's past and many greats that have played for the Detroit Red Wings, but the place has been dying for an upgrade. (Which is finally on the roadmap.) Still, I'd recommend seeing a game there while you can–especially now that you can actually see the Jackets beat the Wings on the road. :)

The Wings went on to win the Stanley Cup that season.

We hung out around Comerica Park and Ford Field, and ate at a sports bar in the area. I'm sure there are fun things to do in town if you know where to look, but the next time we went to see a game in Detroit, we hopped the border and stayed at Caeser's Palace in Windsor, Ontario.

Pittsburgh

This trip happened in 2009, while I was a Website Production Intern with the Blue Jackets, which I wrote about here. We ate lunch at the Souper Bowl. This was while it was still the old Igloo, but I can only imagine the Consol Energy Centerand surrounding areas are beautiful now, especially since it's been modeled after the Arena District in Columbus.

Penguins fans are loud, but that was back in 2009, the year they won the Stanley Cup. (Oh, man. Is that becoming a theme?) At any rate, Blue Jackets fans give them a run for their money now.

Since I was there for work, I didn't get to experience the game from a fan's perspective. Sat up in the press box, you can't exactly cheer your team on. I bet it'd be a lot of fun now with the budding rivalry between the two teams.

Chicago

Also in 2009, we made it to the United Center to see the Jackets take on the Chicago Blackhawks. Between the Blackhawks and Bulls, this is an arena that has heaps of history but doesn't feel old.

The National Anthem is historic. It was fun to witness in person. Although this wasn't "The Game," it was Antoine Vermette's first game after being acquired from Ottawa. Vermette scored two goals and the Blue Jackets won 5-3. It's definitely more fun when they win on the road.

There's not much to do around the United Center, but we did (years later) watch a Bulls playoff game at the Billy Goat Tavern down the street. Beyond that, there's too much good food and too many fun things to do in Chicago to even recommend here.

Detroit (again)

We went back to Detroit in 2011, and I don't really have anything to add except it was cool to see Nicklas Lidstrom play in Detroit in his final season. Those are the little kinds of cool experiences you have at the time without even realizing it. Later, it becomes maybe the only thing I remember about that game.

Anaheim

We just moved our little family to Los Angeles this month. No, I'm not becoming a Kings fan, although I did pick them to repeat and win the Cup again this year.

Anyway, we made it down to Anaheim this past weekend, which is what spurred to me to collect my thoughts on road games. The Jackets played the Ducks at the Honda Center. You know how it went.

The Honda Center was really nice, and the fans were great. The most ribbing you'll get is a comment like, "Have fun... but not too much fun." I like hockey fans.

Our one-year-old, Jack, didn't understand why we were the only ones in our section not cheering. He joined in on clapping once, and tried to mimic the "Let's Go Ducks!" chant from a few young kids in the seats in front of us. I'll work on that.

My wife ran into a Blue Jackets family who was making the whole West Coast trip, so they had just been in San Jose the night before. If you're reading this, shout out to you road warriors. We'll enjoy the sunshine for you.

California's beautiful. I don't have a bad thing to say about it. Yes, it took over two hours to drive to Anaheim. (It's not that far. And it only took one hour to get home when there was moderate to no traffic. Sick.) But if traffic is the worst part of being able to go to the beach or Hollywood or the mountains, and you literally never have to check the weather because it's perfect every day, then I'm ok with that. Now that the Blue Jackets should always keep playing Anaheim and Los Angeles in the same weekend just once a year, I'd highly recommend getting it on the calendar. Unless you plan on going to Disneyland though, you'll probably end up staying more near Los Angeles. Give yourself at least a few extra hours if you want to make it down and explore Anaheim before the game.

(If the Ducks win the Cup this season, I'll make sure to attend a "road game" in Columbus next year. And, sorry.)

I guess all this is to say, it's a heck of a lot of fun to go to road games. And it doesn't have to be expensive, either. I'll bet there's a pretty good chance you probably live within a few hours of an NHL team. We've made some of these trips, there and back, on a single tank of gas (we even drove to and from Nashville in the same day, although I do not recommend it) and we sat in the cheap seats. It's worth it for the experience and the memories. It's worth it to be one of a handful of fans cheering on your team on the road.

With Yelp and Foursquare, you don't really need my recommendations on where to stay or where to eat. The point of all this is that these are memories I'll have forever. Sometimes we get so caught up in the wins and losses and injury reports that we forget hockey's a game. The Blue Jackets, both the players on the team team and the organization as a whole, have provided me with life experiences that I'll share with Jack's kids one day. That's special.

So get out. Explore a new city. Cheer on the Jackets. Have fun. Make a few friends wearing the wrong color jerseys. And then share those good times so other people are encouraged to have those experiences, too. You all deserve it.

The End of Enemy

Enemy, Denis Villeneuve’s (Prisoners) latest film, leaves you with a lot to think about — whether you want to or not. It does something relatively simple throughout the film and does it without apology, taking the dread and tension of Prisoners to an unsettling extreme.

I’m purposely writing this without having read many reviews or theories, aside from David Ehrlich’s review of the film. This is the kind of film that makes you want to think, read, and talk about it, so these are my initial thoughts and scattershot ideas, with full acceptance that there may be deeper connections and theories that I’m not yet considering.

It’s not a perfect film, but I like the idea of a piece of work that leaves room for interpretation. A viewer can bring their own baggage into the analysis (for better or worse), and in turn, change the experience of thinking about Enemy.

The film can come across as pretentious, and shots and sequences go on for a good 10 seconds longer than you want. Maybe that’s intentional—to draw attention to the fact that you are watching this film and forced to think about what you are seeing, and not simply swept up in experiencing something.

Massive spoilers for Enemy below. Not only will it spoil the end of the film, it probably won’t make a bit of sense if you haven’t seen it.

Jake Gyllenhaal as Adam Bell, the history teacher, leads a monotonous, nearly miserable life. To escape from the monotony, he’s created a dream world in which he has everything—a very mildly successful career as an actor, a beautiful wife with a baby on the way, and an apartment to match.

But, as True Detective’s Rust Cohle puts it, “Like a lot of dreams, there’s a monster at the end of it.”

The spiders represent Adam’s biggest fear. Perhaps it’s the fear of being consumed into nothingness. The thought of just being one in a billion. Maybe it’s representative of buried guilt.

He lives out the monotony of his real life, not pushing back too much. Slowly, just like his life, his dreams have become overrun by his greatest fears. Then his dream world begins to fight back.

I think it’s important to reiterate that he’s created a dream world, not simply a fantasy version of himself, or that Anthony St. Claire, the actor, is a manifestation of a split personality disorder. And even in this dream world, he can’t escape his greatest fear.

The idea of a dream world explains a few things — first, the giant spider walking over Toronto. This shows that it, too, is not reality. Second, the scene with Adam and Helen (Sarah Gadon) outside of the school. She’s his illusion. Her call to Anthony, while played up for thematic tension, is meaningless. It’s two whispers of a thought trying to connect.

His subconscious dream world, led by Anthony, rebels from the thought of his fears bleeding into his dreams. In its revolt, his subconscious destroys the only real thing he has—Mary (Mélanie Laurent), who he’s long since grown distant from, preferring the slightly more perfect dream version of his relationship.

Finally, Adam chooses the dream world, letting Anthony get his way, but he only realizes this at the very end, when he sees the spider.

And maybe his look at the end, rather than jolting awake, is his acceptance of not waking up and returning to reality.

I hate spiders.

2014 AVA Digital Awards Platinum Winner

I'm proud to announce I've been selected as a Platinum Award Winner by the AVA Digital Awards for Creativity in Video Production as Director of Portrait.

I consider myself very lucky to be able to share stories of wonderful people like Andria and Cory, stories that reach and inspire tens of thousands of people. It wouldn't have been possible without the support of my wonderful Kickstarter backers, my wife, my mom, and my partner in crime in producing the project, Zach Frankart.

Portrait was a passion project from the beginning, and I'm happy I was able to share that passion with you.

AVA Digital recognizes outstanding achievement by creative professionals involved in the concept, direction, design and production of media that is part of the evolution of digital communication. 

AVA Digital Awards is sponsored and judged by the Association of Marketing and Communication Professionals (AMCP). The international organization consists of several thousand production, marketing, communication, advertising, public relations, and freelance professionals. AMCP administers recognition programs; provides judges and rewards outstanding achievement and service to the profession. As part of its mission, AMCP fosters and supports the efforts of creative professionals who contribute their unique talents to public service and charitable organizations.

Judges are industry professionals who look for companies and individuals whose talent exceeds a high standard of excellence and whose work serves as a benchmark for the industry. 

The Platinum Award is the organization's top honor.

Her

“The past is just a story we tell ourselves.”

"A lonely writer develops an unlikely relationship with his newly purchased operating system that's designed to meet his every need." It’s such an unassuming and almost goofy description and it’s a credit to writer and director Spike Jonze that he elevated the story to such heights. Her is a brilliant film. Among its brilliance is that it speaks to the past, present, and future in a confident way.

Many films would fall into the trap of making the technology the story. That would be a goofy or unnecessarily dense movie. Instead, Her does what great science fiction films do and it just assumes everything makes sense. Everyone in the world accepts the technology because that’s the way it is. It just works. Compare that to today’s world and maybe it’s not such an unbelievable premise.

Think about how this would look to someone who died in 1950: I take a small device made of glass and aluminum out of my pocket and instantly send a letter to a friend on the other side of the planet.

In storytelling, when you present something as a given and just keep moving forward, it engages the audience. Time isn’t wasted trying to decipher how something works or poking holes in its logic. A lesser filmmaker may have fallen victim to this ego, wanting to show off the cool theory and ideas. It would have been caught up in showing code on a computer monitor or making the main character an unlikable nerd because, of course, those are the only people who like technology. In truth, everyone uses technology in their own personal way. And only coders care about code, everyone else just wants technology that works. Spike Jonze understands that.

If Her opened with an info dump that said, “The year is 2029 and we’re in Los Angeles,” suddenly the viewer is making a whole lot of assumptions and attempted connections at the logic. Will technology look or act like that in 15 years? Or worse, when you watch this movie in 2029, will it look comically outdated, or will it mostly hold up like Blade Runner or Alien?

It also makes bold, and probably accurate, statements about work life in the near future. Everyone either works with computers or is an artist (working with computers). The film doesn’t get caught up on whether or not that’s good or bad, it just is. Her drips with subtext, but none of it assumes anything about anyone.

Her explores love and feelings in a way that’s satisfying and profound without being convoluted or sappy. Two words you’d be hard pressed to define are woven through the characters, specifically Theodore, Samantha, and Amy—all played wonderfully by Joaquin Phoenix, Scarlett Johansson, and Amy Adams, respectively. It makes you feel for something that doesn’t exist. Or does it exist? Samantha points out that we’re all just matter, after all. We come, we go. We’re together, we’re alone.

Her raises a lot of questions about today’s world and our near future. It shows its main character, Theodore, navigating those choices but it doesn’t explicitly explain all the answers. Even when he asks his OS an unanswerable question, she simply responds that it would be difficult to explain. Sometimes the answer doesn’t have to be a binary yes or no.

What if Samantha wasn’t artificial intelligence? What if she was a virtual assistant that spent her days in a cubicle? Would that make their love any more or less real? Machines may never be able to feel, but artificial intelligence may be able to understand feeling. What is that world? Is it good or bad? Does it have to be either?

“We are only here briefly, and in this moment I want to allow myself joy.” — Amy

We've got a problem

Originally published on Medium.

Let me start by making something clear: I don’t think Phil Robertson is the problem. I don’t think Justine Sacco is the problem. Neither deserves to be torn apart for the downright dumb things they said this week. Nothing should condone violence. Anyone threatening Ms. Sacco for her racist remark is just as wrong as she was when she hit “Tweet.” Although she now finds herself without a job, that simply sweeps the issue under the rug. The internet feels like they won. And while someone who probably should not have been in a high ranking position at a huge company like IAC (About.com, Dictionary.com, Match.com, CollegeHumor, Vimeo, and many more websites you’ve heard of) lost her job, did she—or anyone, for that matter—actually learn anything?

Don’t tweet something stupid before getting on an international flight. Or ever, really.

Some of the reactions to the inappropriate tweet were no better. You don’t make a point by attacking the attacker. Even the #HasJustineLandedYet hashtag, the top trending topic on Twitter for some time, was more scary than amusing. It felt like the entire internet was waiting—watching—for someone to step through the gate at Terminal B to throw a surprise party.

But what’s lost in the reactions since is how her comments make people feel—and how it shapes the attitudes of others. I think that’s why many jump to mob up at something like this, because so rarely do people feel like they have a majority voice. A chance to make a statement.

We focus on her losing her job or the angry tweets sent back at her and miss the real problem. Ms. Sacco was, presumably, in a position of some power at IAC. She worked in PR and was prominently listed on the company’s contact page. The issue isn’t simply what she said—it’s that she thinks that way at all. And it’s that many people run to her defense.

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Phil Robertson caught heat this week after making some pretty awful comments in a GQ article. He equated being gay to beastiality. He equated black people to white trash, and claimed to know that black people were happier in the “pre-entitlement” era. So I guess, by some extension, he may have even just equated Civil Rights to a sense of entitlement.

He’s allowed to have an opinion. What I find troubling is that he feels it is appropriate to publicly put down people he doesn’t understand. What I find troubling—again—is that many people run to his defense.

A Phil Robertson support page on Facebook has over 1.7 million likes. 1.7 million! He’s become a figurative martyr since A&E suspended him from the hit show Duck Dynasty indefinitely. It’s not a free speech issue. He’s not being put in jail for his comments. His employer, who pays him handsomely, feels his comments were unbecoming of someone who represents their network. They are entirely within their right to suspend or fire him.

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What needs discussion in light of Ms. Sacco and Mr. Robertson’s comments is why people think it’s ok to communicate this way. And we need to discuss, and truly understand, why people get offended at these comments. It’s learning why “be kind” is something you do—not just something you say.

I have to interview with people like Ms. Sacco if I want a job in communication or marketing. I have to interview with people like Mr. Robertson if I want to pitch my company’s services as a freelancer. And while it’d be just as wrong of me to generalize every white person in a managerial position at every company, hearing comments like this are harder and harder to digest when I get rejection letter after rejection letter. It’s seeing people like Pax Dickinson, formerly of Business Insider, tweeting comments that I won’t even quote here. It’s Justine Sacco at IAC. It’s Phil Robertson at Duck Commander. All people that feel it’s important to point out that they’re “different” than me.

I have applied to at least one company falling under their reign. Maybe I didn’t get the job because they don’t like the way I look? Probably not, but how am I supposed to feel when I see similar comments over and over again? How am I supposed to feel when I see company websites featuring pictures of their employees and not a single one is black? How am I supposed to feel when I see casual racism, or sexism, or homophobia and people see nothing wrong with it? Do you think at least 1 of those 1.7 million “likes” are people in a hiring position at a company? Probably.

It’s not about ignoring color, or gender, or sexuality. I know many gay people who are all extremely proud of being gay, as they should be, and pretending like that doesn’t exist is just as unfair. But hiring a “token minority” does what, exactly? It doesn’t fix the problem from either end of the equation. The minority person knows they’re the token hire, and everyone else that works there (likely a majority of white males) knows exactly why that black woman got the job. If anything, half-baked plans only fuel the fire in the opposite direction.

There needs to be a discussion of why these comments aren’t ok. It’s not about trampling on someone’s opinion, or right to free speech, or bad joke. It’s about understanding that when you surround yourself only with people who look, and talk, and act like you—you can’t pretend to know how someone else feels. You just can’t. You can’t claim that black people were happier in pre-Civil Rights America. You can’t slam an entire continent and walk away from it without responsibility.

Ms. Sacco can delete her Twitter account (and she has) and while she’s currently without a job, I doubt it will be a permanent situation. If over 1.7 million people support Phil Robertson, I’m sure she’ll find at least one who supports her.

But the rest of us can’t change our skin color or sexual orientation. And that’s why comments like this are not ok.

Heisenberg: A genius, a madman, a little bit lucky

Originally posted on Medium.

Spoilers for the entire series of Breaking Bad below.

Chemistry is, well technically, chemistry is the study of matter.

But I prefer to see it as the study of change.

Walter White in season one, setting up everything we are about to see.

Walt rolls a black barrel housing roughly $11 million through the dusty New Mexico desert. His DEA-agent-brother-in-law is dead. He blames Jesse for giving Hank the information that led him to his death.

But Walt has always been the architect.

This is the same place it all started. You can even see Walt’s old khakis in the middle of the desert—the pair that blew away in the very first episode.

All the while, this song plays.

Had a job a year ago,
Had a little home,
Now I’ve got no place to go,
guess I’ll have to roam.

Take my true love by her hand,
Lead her through the town,
Say goodbye to everyone,
Goodbye to everyone.

Every wind that blows boys,
Every wind that blows,
Carries me to some new place,
Heaven only knows.

Take my true love by her hand,
Lead her through the town,
Say goodbye to everyone,
Goodbye to everyone.

Walt’s one true love: Power. His power is in that heavy barrel. $11,000,000 worth of power. Worthless power.

This wasn’t a song written for the show. This was a song written over 50 years ago. Yet it perfectly summed up that moment.

Ozymandias

A poem from 1818 about the fall of leaders and their empires.

Walt’s story is as old as greed.

In episode 514, titled Ozymandias, Jesse is finally a dead man in Walt’s eyes. After watching his brother-in-law get shot in the head, he’s ready to watch the same thing happen to his surrogate son. A son that he’s been closer to than his own for awhile.

Later in the episode, Walt berates Skyler on the phone. He knows the cops are listening. He’s trying to exonerate her as much as he can. He’s become Heisenberg because Walter White can no longer save his family. Walter White no longer has a family.

His voice—cold, calculated, and down-right evil. His face—crying and in pain. This was the last good thing he could do for his family.

Bryan Cranston’s performance as Walter White is more than award-worthy, it’s legendary.

In the end, Breaking Bad is really just a show about a science teacher that becomes a really good actor.—Dan Trachtenberg

Werner Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle “states that it is impossible to determine simultaneously both the position and velocity of an electron or any other particle with any great degree of accuracy or certainty.”

Walt has been spiraling out of control since the day he told Bogdan to shove it. His choice of Heisenberg as a pseudonym confirms Walt’s genius, hubris, and dumb luck.

He’s never really been in control. His actions have always been a reaction to uncontrollable events. He gets cancer. Tuco. Gus. Mike. Jesse. They all had him figured out a lot earlier than they realized.

And that’s what Breaking Bad did so well. We all saw what he went through, but we also remember from where he came. His actions were wrong. His intent wasn’t entirely evil.

Seems like everything up to now has been prologue. 4 seasons of origin story, now we are in it!—Jeff Cannata

A world was established. The consequences of his actions had been coming for a long time.

Breaking Bad will go down as one of the greatest pieces of drama in any medium. It started with series creator Vince Gilligan. The writing team he put together was nothing short of brilliant.

For as brilliant as the writing was—the crew was outstanding.

Director of Photography Michael Slovis shot television with more skill and attention to detail than some movies with budgets over $100 million. The editing was top notch. Kelley Dixon, one of the show’s editors, won an Emmy this year. Deservedly so.

And the cast. Anna Gunn—as Skyler White—went to hell and back. Betsy Brandt transformed Marie from a purple-loving kleptomaniac to a person that felt like she lived in the real world.

Dean Norris—as the tough as nails Hank—went out the only way he could, with his dignity in tact. No one wanted Hank to die, not even Walt in his lowest moments. But no one wanted to see him beg or side with the bad guy.

And Jesse. Jesse. They were going to kill him off in season one, can you believe that? But Aaron Paul brought something special. He took a junkie loser and made him a lovable, if misguided, soul. You always wanted to see him turn his life around.

But sometimes the study of change just leads you back to the same place.

Intentional filmmaking

Pointing a camera at an object doesn't mean it's automatically interesting.

That thinking is common in the Vimeo-age. Timelapse videos of pretty scenery have a much better chance of getting featured and going viral than a narrative short.

Let me be clear: It takes a lot of skill to be a great timelapse photographer or filmmaker.

But film at its core, at its best, must have meaning. Without intent, it's just 24 pictures a second. Even great photographers have intent with every frame they capture.

It all tells a story.

Shouldn't film have the same care? Shouldn't every frame speak on its own?

So, you want a video for your business?

Let's talk about purpose. The purpose of making a video for your business.

A lot of small business owners would like to make a video. It's engaging. It's more than static photos or text. And video is huge. People are consuming more now than ever before.

Here's how people think: I want something simple. Just our president/CEO/me on camera telling everyone why we're unique.

Here's why that stinks: Of course you're the best at what you do. If you weren't, I probably wouldn't be looking at your website right now. No one is going to say, "We're pretty ok, sometimes we screw up, but we're doing our best to get better! Come work with us!" And because everyone says the same thing, all the videos look the same. Cookie cutter.

People care about stories.

Not every video is going to go viral, but the purpose should be the same: For people to watch, learn, and be entertained. You can't have only two of the three for a truly successful project.

I want to care about the people behind your business. The struggles of getting started. The work you put into becoming a nationwide success. The process that your people work at perfecting every day.

Show me something I haven't seen. Tell me a story I haven't heard.

It may not get a million views on YouTube, but it'll get people to watch past the first 10 seconds. It will allow people to get to know you.

And maybe, just maybe, once they find out about your story, they'll care to support you.

Do you think this video would have over 107,000 views if the direction was as follows? "Sit Nick on camera and have him tell people why JackThreads is unique."

Writing concisely

It's tempting when writing to cover every detail. Argue every point. Make every statement. Concise writing can still make a point.