A fairly straightforward post about an admittedly minor thing

For the first time, the author occupies the thinking chair. His thoughts follow.

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Recognizing the shape of a small landmark, I want to abandon the regular indentation of my writing chair and indulge in a sit in my thinking chair, the most comfortable of the three chairs I occupy in a normal day. From here, I see a few thoughts worth sharing on this modest occasion.

But remembering the impatient reader on the other side of this communication, I want to dismiss any expectation he might have: this post has little to do with AI film. If you’re expecting that, then there is little below this line for you. This is, very unfortunately, a 1000th subscriber reflection post. Which is to say, here lies wandering thoughts of dubious value.

These thoughts can be summarized as follows: writing is fun, writing is self-edifying, and I plan to write more. If you require more detail than that, then venture below.

1. Enjoyment

I’ve always liked taxonomies of happiness. Especially from unhappy people, as they clearly must cultivate a high appreciation for the few moments of happiness they do allow themselves. Cyril Connolly, a famously sour book critic, had one I always found memorable. He proposed there were three things that made life worth living:

1. To be in a dinner party of six

2. To be traveling south with someone you love

3. To be writing a tolerably good book.

It’s a wonderful list. And I don’t disagree, but Mr. Connolly’s list calls for an update. My amended list of pleasures is:

1. To be in a dinner party of Gioias

2. To be in one’s thinking chair with an enjoyable thought

3. To be writing a Substack you like

Writing here is very enjoyable for me. Both broadcasting my thoughts to readers and working to retrieve them semi-articulately from my head. This second part, I believe, is very a nutritious activity. And that is where I will meander next.

2. Improvement

Writing clarifies your own thoughts. And when others like your writing, well that’s great. It can help clarify their thoughts too.

The fact that Cyril Connolly’s words are with me today, 75 years after he wrote them, is fascinating. His thoughts have traveled across time for my benefit and pleasure. It makes me thankful for everyone before me who spent the time to write down what they were thinking. They’ve saved me an enormous amount of time.

My own writing is far from helping future generations. But for now, at least it improves the author. I understand the world better because I write.

3. A hint to the publication’s future

There’s a lot I’d like to understand about how AI will change media, art, and culture. Which means I’d like to write more about it.

Writing more is up to me and the writing chair. But if you would like to encourage Intelligent Jello, well, reading and sharing it is appreciated. Pledging a subscription is also motivating. I’m not sure if I will turn on Substack’s famous monetization features, but it’s encouraging to see those numbers go up.

So that’s what you can expect. Namely, more.

But what should you not expect?

Certainly, do not expect any more 1000th subscriber reflection posts. This post, despite its high excitement, is the only 1000th subscriber reflection post you are likely to see here. Unless things go wrong, I don’t expect to cross that milestone again. And absolutely expect no more mentions of my three chairs. It’s unlikely the column will ever get that intimate again.

4. A break from tradition

Dedicated fans of this Substack will know its core latin motto has always been to Bloggum in Praesenti. And as history tells us, a Substack violates its core latin motto at its own risk. Despite that, I will now make a radical departure from that motto and blog about things already blogged— the first blog I ever wrote 8 years ago.

I enjoyed writing that blog. It was motivated by what George Orwell would call an “aesthetic motive” to see words arranged in a pleasurable order. But it had no topic, was read by few, and indulged many more unnecessary riffs than you’ve been subjected to today.

Despite this auspicious combination, that blog capsized due to a distracted captain and indifferent readership.

The memory makes me thankful for Intelligent Jello. Not only does it enjoy a more focused captain, but it is buoyed by a real readership.

I’ll end this largely unnecessary column with the simple but heartfelt sentiment.

Thank you for reading Intelligent Jello.

Los Angeles
September 2024

The author (without chair) at 31.