Coming to Our Senses
We live in a sensory desert in which rooms are deodorized, soundproofed, and painted in neutral colors. But “sensehacking" can transform experience.
We live in a sensory desert in which rooms are deodorized, soundproofed, and painted in neutral colors. But “sensehacking" can transform experience.
What are we to make of this smackdown, all of us who thought AI would never sound profound or witty? Will the writing of books cease to be a human endeavor?
The tradition is an ancient one: long before people even learned to write, they were spontaneously crafting dolls from papyrus, straw, wood, leather, or etched stone, bone, or ivory. Along the way, there were dolls of rubber, papier mâché, glued sawdust, and always, stuffed cloth—first dressed in simple rags, later in satin and lace. Dolls became elaborate, became art. But all that really mattered was a limbed body with a suggestion of face.
Eyes squeezed shut, I can still feel (or at least imagine) my mom’s arms around me, drawing me close to her warmth and rocking me back and forth, back and forth. A reliable rhythm, its arc never too far in either direction. In milky, dazed contentment, I no doubt…
This long strange year yielded some gems....
“Why,” I asked my husband, “would anyone want to waste time watching a bad movie?”
“Because it’s fun,” he replied, as though this should be obvious.
“No. A good movie is fun, even if it is wrenching. A bad movie is just sad. Pathetic, even. An insult…
The St. Louisan who preserved Timothy Leary's work—and should have been famous too.
Neighbors who had always been kind, with food and celebrations shared, went cold overnight, then flamed into a murderous rage.
People worried sick about bigotry used to murmur, “Our hope is the young people.” Now the opposite is true.
Making sounds in unison tells the world we are united; it reminds us of what we share, not where we differ. It also releases enough endorphins to smooth over any doubts.
He understands “the impossible human experience of just trying to get through the day with everyone you love being somewhat OK at the end of it.”
There is one blissfully egocentric, thrilling moment: I am introduced as “the talent.” Granted, I ruin the moment by snorting and warning the sound studio team that I have never recorded anything before, let alone an entire audiobook. They nod; they are already braced for an amateur. “The talent”…