Alex Tarnava on bad movies, philosophy, and mental hormesis.
Tarnava Talk is a mixed media project dedicated to discussing readings from my book StressHacked and upcoming works. I recorded extended readings of my writings and I am joined by my editor to discuss them, covering topics from philosophy to science to pop culture. Check out a reading from StressHacked today and follow the discussion below.
Vadim Gershteyn, PhD, MPH served as my editor for StressHacked and contributed writing to my upcoming book The Stone Wall. He joins me for this discussion.
VG: In a reading from your book StressHacked, you talked about two things (if I were to summarize them in my own idiosyncratic way): 1) knowing when to watch and (importantly) not watch bad movies, and 2) how to expose yourself to difficult ideas, including within philosophy, to keep growing intellectually as a person (in a few words: hormesis as applied to the mind). Here’s a tid-bit about me: in the film Best Worst Movie, a documentary made about another film, Troll 2, I appear briefly as I am in the audience of a theater showing of the latter film (Troll 2). I was there with my buddies and one of them, Neema, was wearing an orange jumpsuit, standing and clapping obnoxiously at the movie being projected, so the documentarians couldn’t help but capture it. Troll 2 is considered one of the worst films ever made, such that there are theater showings of it and documentaries made about it and its fandom. I have seen Troll 2 possibly ten times (Interestingly, I have not seen Troll 1, confusingly an unrelated film to Troll 2, more than once). In this reading, you are stating that one ought not to watch bad movies for the fourth time, borrowing language from Sam Harris, since our time on Earth is finite, and we cannot justify this indulgence after a while. For one thing, we will feel bad, and another we will forget our purpose. Perhaps more importantly, we do not train ourselves for a time when we need vigilance and strength by watching bad movies. For when the unexpected comes, and it will.
In defense of bad movies, however, I do think shared experiences like the one I describe in the theater which was captured for Best Worst Movie helps us grow as people. But we can’t rely on community alone to give us purpose, as I think you wrote in Chapter 23 of StressHacked: The Mind. (In Aristotle’s terms, purpose is formed often when we do goal-directed things with our community, not simply waste time with others. Purpose is also when we don’t fall into what Martin Heidegger calls “idle talk,” at least not most of the time.) Do you have something to say about the benefits and perils of watching bad movies?
AT: There are a couple of ways to look at it. In your experience, you have a strong emotional memory attached to this specific bad movie. Would you be watching it more than once if you did not? For most, when they catch themselves watching a bad movie for the third, or twelfth time, it is because they are immobile on their couch, unable to move, to act, and let the channel rest on something familiar. That, for me, is tragic. If for a purpose, one of remembering part of yourself and others you shared a defining, or anchoring memory, I think the calculus changes.
VG: This is one aspect of it, namely that I watched this film with others and also I rarely “leave it on in the background.” In fact, I actively enjoy Troll 2: I can’t help but laugh and gawk in awe. At the same time, there is another implication in my story. Film is one of humanity’s crowning achievements, in terms of technicality and the ability to realize an individual’s vision. Maybe instead of watching Troll 2 for the nth time, were I to be watching a movie at all, I could be watching Citizen Kane, or Federico Fellini’s 8 ½, or a documentary about quantum physics. Troll 2 has an occult or hidden dimension—I will go on a limb to state this—and it’s made endearing by the participants’ repeated failures to make a good movie at all (for instance, there are no trolls in the film), which tells you something about movie-making, at the very least. What’s a film you’ve seen nearly this much and what lessons did you imprint from it?
AT: If we are excluding the movies we had on VHS when I was a kid, because then that isn’t fair—the same handful would cycle endlessly, as we didn’t have cable TV—it’s a few movies that elicit certain emotions in me. I’m a sucker for certain hero arcs. I am not sure how many times I’ve watched The Dark Knight trilogy. Nor am I certain how many times I’ve watched The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Elsewhere, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, at least through Avengers: Endgame, was a guilty pleasure. I’ve watched them less than the aforementioned trilogies, but there are so many movies in that arc. Particularly, I tend to watch some of these movies during the winter months—years I don’t have sufficient forward movement in purpose and projects, and need a sort of distracting delusion to keep me away from despair. I do my best to not need to turn to this, but it is a crutch I accept for a time to avoid the alternative.
VG: The message of this reading is to brace yourself, in my view. You state, “The person who has never stared into the abyss is utterly unprepared when the abyss finally stares back,” channeling Friedrich Nietzsche. Perhaps tough times are coming or perhaps not, but in either case it may not hurt to be a “strategic pessimist,” as you wrote about in your last newsletter. In your new book The Stone Wall, you read and analyzed a number of sources in pursuit of philosophical hormesis. Do you want to say anything about any of the authors that you wrestled with? Did they help expand on your mind, or make you more confident in your own beliefs? Did any of them change your mind? Who do you recommend your audience read (besides yourself) to assist in their own project of intellectual growth?
AT: On the first point, tough times come for us all, eventually, if we fail to keep ourselves strong and vigilant. The saying “why does bad luck come at the worst time?” answers itself. It wouldn’t be more than a mild inconvenience for those during “good times.” Consider two scenarios:
You are driving to work, and get a flat tire. You’re in good standing with your employer, have no financial worries, and have roadside assistance. You call for support, show up late to work, apologize, and no one is bothered by it. It barely makes a dent in your day.
Alternatively, you are on your way to work. You’ve already received warnings for being late and a performance review indicating you need to improve. You’re late on your rent, about to be evicted, and your credit card is maxed out. You get a flat tire, and you do not have roadside assistance. This “bad luck” event has the potential to ruin you.
Same “bad luck,” dramatically different result.
As for whether the wide array of thinkers, many of them with thoughts I had to grapple with, and if they expanded my mind, or gave me more confidence… this is complex. I am not the same person after reading everything I did as I was before, but the ways in which I have changed—as expanded may not be the right word—are not immediately clear. I believe I have better clarity, that my perception of society and the reality we exist within is more complete. Paradoxically, but not surprisingly for those aware of Dunning-Kruger, I think if anything, my confidence in my prescriptions is lower. To be clear, I think they are more well thought out, closer to airtight, than before. But, also I understand the complexity of the issues better, and the chaotic aspects I cannot control.
As for who I recommend, I recommend that each reader take their own journey. If an author I am talking about sparks curiosity, pursue. I cannot count how many times one author introduces me to a profound thought from another, and I promptly order that book.. and as soon as it arrives, start it, abandoning the introducing author. Sometimes I come back to the abandoned book, sometimes I don’t. Let curiosity be the guide, and reading will never feel like work.
VG: Another aspect of philosophical hormesis that you discuss in this reading deals with what I mentioned above: feeling bad when you’re not reading and thinking deeply, just like when you exercise regularly you feel bad when you skip the gym. In this reading, you state that, when you do fail to commit to a path of philosophical hormesis, and sometimes you have done so in the past, the silence and the existential dread creeps in. We talked about anxiety in the last newsletter, and its bi-directional relationship to curiosity. What do you say to those who don’t see the benefit of reading philosophy texts (to use one example; or science, literature, etc.) the way they see the benefit of exercise?
AT: I’d say you don’t have to pursue scientific or philosophical literature the way I have, but we all owe a duty to the self to pursue actions that strengthen the mind. If we let the mind become weak, temptation will set in, and the body will follow.
