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In Mad Men, Bert Cooper says “A man is whatever room he is in” and calls it a Japanese proverb, though it is not.
Joyce, Huizinga, Erasmus, Eco and Agamben share one subject: how play and interpretation drive cultural change and meaning-making.
The past is a fiction of the mind; psychotherapy accepts it and heals wounds, while coaching builds a different future than the default one.
David C. Korten recalls a youth with no concept of cultural diversity, expecting a whole life in a monocultural white town.
We humans live by stories, and a society’s ability to live together securely depends on the authenticity of its shared story.
Consumerism defined as an obsession with buying material goods becomes, for Brown and Vergragt, an engine of unsustainability.
The New Communalists sought refuge from government power in personal computing and psychedelics; the New Left took to campus direct action.
We play parental, fiduciary and societal roles yet know in our heart of hearts that we still have to grow up.
The moral measure of a culture is how well it tolerates ambiguity and change and how open it is to the otherness of others.
Where we find patterns, we will likely find core, emotion-laden ideas, internalized messages that tell us what to do.
Ancestral rites of passage moved the young into adulthood through departure, ceremonial death and rebirth, teachings, ordeal and return.
Certainty is the enemy of truth: dogmas and beliefs are husks that once held energy and can also become a prison.
Gender is socially construed, and its constricting definitions of men and women are one more frangible fiction.
Those who have never known tyranny can mistake their own elected governments for evil dictatorships conniving to take away their rights.
In 1989, Francis Fukuyama suggested we may be witnessing the end of history, with Western liberal democracy the final form of government.
White supremacist capitalist patriarchy, a term coined by Bell Hooks, names a system that privileges wealthy white men through exploitation.
To James Hillman, processing heartbreak makes a processed psyche, like processed food; wounds and scars are the stuff of character.
Some experiences we accumulate just by living in a physical and social world; others result from conditions that designers create.
Luke Burgis sees Silicon Valley and authoritarian governments engineering desire, so people want what others want them to want.
Most people go through life in a coarse comfort, like petted animals, never realizing they are probably thinking other people’s thoughts.
The one thing the public dislike is novelty, because it frightens them as an assertion of the artist’s individualism.
No class is ever really conscious of its own suffering; it has to be told by others, and often disbelieves them.
To sweep the streets with joy would be appalling: all monotonous, dull, unintellectual labor must be done by machinery.
The moment an artist takes notice of what other people want, he ceases to be an artist and becomes a dull or an amusing craftsman.
The effort to leave the beaten paths forces everyone into the same ditch.
Taste, a pattern of preferences for some qualities of form over others, shifts with education, advertising and popular culture.
Adam Curtis’s emotional history of the modern world traces how inner feelings got mixed up with power in the age of individualism.
Tribal societies, thought to have the least individuality, give the most individual names, drawn from dreams or deeds and rarely handed down.
The picaresque is a psychopathic parody of the individuation epic, but individuation might be a paranoid organization of the picaresque.
The “therapeutic class” arrives with stories already formed into the therapeutic genre, self-reflective and focused on the main character’s problems.
For Gurdjieff, the organ Kundabuffer, implanted in a cosmic catastrophe, left humanity anesthetized and permanently insane.
India’s caste system keeps the large majority in simple consciousness and has overall avoided the mass neurosis of Western societies.