🏃 ramoneando

3. Tarde wrote on mail | L'opinion et la foule (1901)

One chain of events to another creates a nation. Roads do the same for runners.

The development of the mails by multiplying first public then private correspondence, the development of highways by multiplying new contacts between people, the development of permanent armies by making soldiers from all the provinces fraternize with each other, and finally the development of courts by drawing the aristocratic elite from all corners of the earth to the monarchical center of the nation— all had the effect of gradually developing the public mind (l’esprit public). But it remained for the printing press to extend this great work to the fullest. It was for the press, once it had reached the stage of newspaper, to make national, European, even cosmic, anything local which, despite its possible intrinsic interest, formerly would have remained unknown beyond a limited range. . . .

Let us try to be more precise. In a large society divided into nations, subdivided into provinces, fiefs, and cities, international opinion, arising every now and then, has always existed, even before the press: beneath international opinion are national opinions, still intermittent but already more frequent; beneath national opinions are the almost continuous regional and local opinions. These are the superimposed strata of the public mind. But the proportions of these diverse layers have varied considerably with regard to importance and depth, and it is easy to see how. The farther back one goes into the past, the more local opinion is predominant. The work of journalism has been to nationalize more and more, and even to internationalize, the public mind.

Journalism both sucks in and pumps out information, which, coming in from all corners of the earth in the morning, is directed, the same day, back out to all the corners of the earth, insofar as the journalist defines what is or appears to be interesting about it, given the goals he is pursuing and the party for which he speaks. His information is in reality a force which little by little becomes irresistible. Newspapers began by expressing opinion, first the completely local opinion of privileged groups, a court, a parliament, a capital, whose gossip, discussions, or debates they reproduced; they ended up directing opinion almost as they wished, modeling it, and imposing the majority of their daily topics upon conversation.

We shall never know and can never imagine to what degree newspapers have transformed, both enriched and leveled, unified in space and diversified in time, the conversations of individuals, even those who do not read papers but who, talking to those who do, are forced to follow the groove of their borrowed thoughts. One pen suffices to set off a million tongues.

1. Recipe day [thursday]

learning vegetarian foods. Today pasta day and creme brule.

2. Mom breaks a leg

Another reason to keep body active. For independence of movements. Gotta take care of mom and dad.

4. Green Drinks

Now with sponsor and viralizing message for vegetarians. GD invites to a talk on composting I organized.

5. Rush [2013v] | On Niki Lauda and motivation

NIKI: Twenty-five drivers start every season in Formula 1, and each year two of us die. What kind of person does a job like this? Not normal men, for sure. Rebels, lunatics, dreamers. People who are desperate to make a mark and are prepared to die trying. My name is Niki Lauda, and racing people know me for two things. The first is my rivalry with him. I don't know why it became such a big thing. We were just drivers busting each other's balls. To me this is perfectly normal, but other people saw it differently, that whatever it was between us went deeper. The other thing I'm remembered for is what happened on 1st August, 1976, when I was chasing him like an asshole.

JAMES: I have a theory why women like racing drivers. It's not because they respect what we do, driving round and round in circles. Mostly they think that's pathetic, and they're probably right. It's our closeness to death. You see, the closer you are to death, the more alive you feel. The more alive you are. And they can see that in you. They feel that in you. My name is James Hunt. My father is a stockbroker, my sister is a barrister and my brother is an accountant. And I... Well, I do this. It's a wonderful way to live. It's the only way to drive. As if each day is your last.