Four Stories on e-Books, the Amazon, the Underworld, and Distance

Roland Kelts kicked off the evening with a timely piece recalling his experience of 9/11 media in Japan. He contrasted the multitude of images of the planes flying into the towers with the singular and iconic Zapruder film of the Kennedy assassination. Our collective societal ability to easily capture images places us all at the forefront of journalism, empowering us to participate in the visual narrative of our lives. Kelts theorizes that 9/11 imagery is most like anime—unafraid to push outside the frame and defy expectations in much the same way that event itself did, shattering the perception that no one can tame the beast that is America. Kelts' words remind us of our responsibility to play a role in the representation of our own world—by reading, writing, taking pictures, having opinions, and more. Don't leave perpetuity up to one person—participate in your own existence.

In keeping with the theme of participation, Michelle Hoover related a true-life experience in the Amazon jungle, where she became lost with her guide (what a comforting feeling) in the lung-filling pitch black of the Amazon night—right next to a herd of vicious pig-like animals capable of sniffing out humans in any sort of light (or lack thereof). If there's a better way to heighten your awareness of your own existence than by being threatened with death, we don't know what it is. The fear Hoover experiences—but overcomes, to return to camp with minimal aid from her guide—demonstrates that all of us grow by exposing ourselves to new situations. And our growth is often most significant when it comes as the result of real experiences, rather than vicarious or virtual ones, like MySpace messages and movements in your Top 8. So close your laptop and head out to the Amazon, kids—you've got a lot to learn about finding your way.

The adorably amusing Ethan Gilsdorf followed up the jungle mania with a fictional tale of the modern underworld, and a mother-and-son reunion in the afterlife that enabled the expression of long-suppressed feelings. Gilsdorf's tale told us that, rather than waiting until after death to resolve issues, we can address them in the present by relating honestly and openly to one another. Instead of waiting for that ideal moment, express yourself now.

Tracy Slater's nonfiction piece was the last of the evening, and perhaps the most directly related to a real life. Her story addressed her struggle to deal with a cross-continental marriage. Spending 4 to 6 months of the year in Boston and 6 to 8 in Osaka, Japan, Slater has had to adjust to a nontraditional life, splitting time between her husband and her native city. Most of us can't understand the desire to be married to someone thousands of miles away, but Slater communicates her reasons in a way that motivates re-thinking of one's own relationships and priorities, and raises the question: How can we handle the dilemma of distance, between friends, between lovers, between anyone?

The answer is simple: Communicate. Read. Write. Speak. Listen. And share. Don't just sit composing e-mails you'll never send, or writing blogs no one will read. Comment on others' blogs. Make your own writing worth reading. Write something that's never been written before; think something that's never been thought. It's a tall order, but it's what we need to avoid falling over the edge that technology has made both so easy to bridge but so easy to hide behind. Get engaged, and you'll be rewarded as others engage with you in deeper, more meaningful ways.