Over at BoingBoing, Cory Doctorow puts it perfectly:
“Content isn’t king. If I sent you to a desert island and gave you the choice of taking your friends or your movies, you’d choose your friends — if you chose the movies, we’d call you a sociopath. Conversation is king. Content is just something to talk about.”
For example, I love The Wire. It’s an excellent show that can lay a solid claim on being the best television out there. But what do I enjoy most about the Wire? Talking about it. Talking about how it captures some of my own experiences. Talking about about how it helps illustrate the interconnected nature of a city.  So, as great as it is to watch it, the conversations it inspires are better. Perhaps content isn’t “just” something to talk about, but it’s not the end. It’s a means to a more important end, for me. And for most of us, I suspect.
Peej
Years ago I may have agreed with this sentiment.
Nowadays, though, I think conversation is ultimately content and a lot of of isn’t really much to write home about. I also think I feel differently now because I do view conversation primarily as a means of getting information: a means to the end, which is what is contained in the exchange, and not a social exercise to ponder out loud and try to establish common bonds with some while politely but firmly declining to do so with others. Being in a time crunch has something to do with it, I suspect–to talk for the sake of talking doesn’t fit into the schedule. Unfortunately, the schedule takes precedence if I’m to have any sort of sanity.
Call me a sociopath (jaded and tired would probably be more appropriate), but I’d take the movies to the desert island. At least I can turn them off and enjoy some solitary silence!
MB
Funny, as I think we’ve probably switched places, then. We’re in agreement that much conversation really isn’t all that much to write home about, but I’m finding a lot more satisfaction in (almost always already developed and well-established) relationships with other people than I do in consuming content on my own.
This isn’t to say that I don’t still chase after the sublime experience that is a book speaking directly to you (say, as recently happened with Fortress of Solitude, for me). Content (a really too generic word, I suppose) will always be important and something worthy of (sometimes even necessarily) being experienced on my own.
I think we’re talking about two difference scenarios, in the taking books v. people bit. You want a vacation (as have I). But a marooning? It takes more than one to (re)build a life, no?
selila
i find that last sentence intriguing. does it take more than one to (re)build a life? i wonder about that a lot, especially since i do a fairly good (and intentional) job at isolation. i distinguish that from solitude in the it is not always the quiet i seek, it is often a reduction in the white noise of talk and no real exchange.
something else i am wondering about. the conversation you enjoy, does it require that the people around you consume the same content? because while i see the value in that shared experience, i wonder about the kind of conversation that comes from speaking to those whose experience is nothing like your own. is that of different value? same? lesser? greater?
or are you speaking primarily to shared experience and content exclusively?
Peej
selila, I also found that last sentence intriguing, especially because it is my belief that it does fundamentally take one–the person doing it–to rebuild a life. (Or build one for that matter.) Oh, of course there are the day to day impersonal interactions, etc. that are a necessary part of survival and actually being able to function, at least in our current society’s setup. However, I took the sentence to mean that you need emotional support and personal interaction beyond yourself to rebuild. I don’t find that to be true. It may not be a better life you’re building, but you can do it on your own, none the less.
That’s a really good point about shared experience and common content consumption. I find that I much prefer interacting or conversing with people who have a different set of experiences and maybe even expectations that I do. That’s mainly because I tire easily of talking about shared and/or personal experience (all evidence on certain online message boards being to the contrary!), unless they’ve actually experienced with me. In which case, there really isn’t much to say.
I’ve been thinking an inordinate amount about this topic and the response(s) in the past few days. It’s hit a nerve with me but I don’t know if that’s because the content (hah!) really resonates with me at this time or it’s because I’m taking liberties with interpreting and taking the original topic off in a different direction. This would be so much easier to discuss in person.
MB
To break out an old college phrase – a single soul is a necessary, but not sufficient, condition for (re)building a life. I absolutely believe this.
That isn’t to say I’ve not experienced those moments when I’d rail against that. But I am certain it is a truth.
But that’s not really on point, is it?
~
I think that (some) common content helps, but it’s not at all required for any given conversation. As Peej points out – a common and constant preaching to the choir is tiresome. But I think that we rarely have moments of true commonality in conversations about content. But the conversation that works towards that (perhaps unattained) moment? Very much worth it.
And to your last point, Peej – would you rather read a magazine article about this or meet me and Selila for drinks to talk about it?