Latest news with #BoxofRain
Yahoo
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
The Tao of Jerry Garcia: 31 Trippy Quotes From the Grateful Dead Co-Founder
Jerry Garcia isn't just one of the most beloved rock stars ever, a legendary guitar player, and leader of the greatest rock band of all time from its inception in 1965 up through his passing in 1995. The Grateful Dead co-founder was also a font of casual philosophical wisdom, offering up pearls of insight throughout his life on anything from religion to finance to art. Here are some classic nuggets of Garcia genius to guide you through life. On God'There was one dream when I thought everybody on Earth had been evacuated in flying saucers and the only people left were these sort of lifeless automatons that were walking around, and there's the kind of sound of that hallow mocking laughter, when you realize that you're the butt of the universe's big joke.' —1989 More from Rolling Stone See Sturgill Simpson Join Dead and Company for 'Morning Dew' at GD 60 See Dead and Company Perform 'Box of Rain' With Phil Lesh's Son Grahame at Dead 60 Show Dead & Company's San Francisco Livestream: How to Watch the Golden Gate Park Concerts Online 'The date that holds significance for me is 2012. That's Terence McKenna's alpha moment, where the universe undergoes its most extraordinary transformations. He talks about these cycles, which, in each epic, more happens than in all previous time…. They're huge transformations in consciousness. This is going to peak in 2012.' —1993 'After I came out of my coma, I had this image of myself as these little hunks of protoplasm that were stuck together kind of like stamps with perforations between them that you could snap off. They were run through with neoprene tubing, and there were these insects that looked like cockroaches which were like message-units that were kind of like my bloodstream. That was my image of my physical self, and this lasted a long time.' —1994 I have been spoken to by a higher order of intelligence – I thought it was God. It was a very personal God, in that it had exactly the same sense of humor that I have. I interpret that as being the next level of consciousness.' —1994 On Drugs'Being high, each note is like a whole universe. And each silence. And when you're playing and you're high on acid in these scenes, it is like the most important thing in the world. It's truly, pshew, cosmic.' —1972 'To get really high is to forget yourself – and to forget yourself is to see everything else – and to see everything else is to become an understanding molecule in evolution, a conscious tool of the universe. And I think every human being should be a conscious tool of the universe. That's why I think it's important to get high.' —1972 'I'm the sort of person that will just keep going along until something stops me. For me and drugs, the bust helped. It reminded me how vulnerable you are when you're drug dependent. It caught my attention. It was like, 'Oh, right: illegal!'' —1987 'Drug use is kind of a cul-de-sac: It's one of those places you turn with your problems, and pretty soon, all your problems have become that one problem. Then it's just you and drugs.' —1987 'In my life, all kinds of drugs have been useful to me, and they have also been a hindrance to me. As far as I'm concerned, the results are not in.' —1991 'Q: If you were made Clinton's drug-policy adviser, what would you do?A: I would advise him to make everything legal immediately. Take the profit out of it and the whole criminal structure will collapse. The next part is the health aspect, making drugs that are clean and in knowable, understandable doses. Why not spend research money on making drugs that are good for you, that are healthy? Is the problem that we don't like people changing their consciousness? I don't think that's a good enough reason not to have drugs.' —1994 His Peers'Maybe Chuck Berry was the first rock musician because he was one of the first blues cats to listen to records, so he wasn't locked into the blues idiom. Nobody has to fool around with musty old scores, weird notation and scholarship bullshit. You can just go into a record store and pick a century, pick a country, pick anything, and dig it, make it a part of you, add it to the stuff you carry around and see that it's all music.' —1969 'I knew Janis eight years ago, and she was singing her heart out in the funkiest places you could imagine, with abscesses on her arms, dumpy and strung out, head all fucked up, wearing the plainest, most nondescript clothes you've ever seen. She was really singing, and nobody was even listening.' —1971 'Dylan was able to tell you the truth. He was able to talk about the changes that you'd go through, the bummers and stuff like that – and say it in a good way, the right way. Back in the folk music days, I couldn't really dig this stuff, but on Bringing It All Back Home he was really saying something that I could dig, that was relevant to what was going on in my life at the time. Whether he intended it that way or not is completely unimportant.' —1972 'The Beatles were real important. They were a little model, especially the movies – the movies were a big turn-on. Just because it was a little model of good times … it was like [they] were saying, 'You can be young, you can be far-out and you can still make it.' They were making people happy. That happy thing – that's the stuff that counts – was something we could all see right away.' —1972 'The Rolling Stones never did have a cool audience. [At concerts] Jagger would make his little speech about turn on the lights so we can see you, and everybody would scream and run up to the stage. It was so predictable. They knew it would work. They're good – they don't need any tricks.' —1971 'I didn't get serious about music until I was 18 and I heard bluegrass. I heard Earl Scruggs play five-string banjo and I thought, 'That's something I have to be able to do.' I fell in love with the sound, and I started earnestly trying to do what I was hearing. That became the basis for everything else that was my model.' —1994 On Health'I'm basically a lazy fuck. Things have to get to the point where they're screaming before I'll do anything. I could see it coming, and I kept saying to myself: Well, as soon as I get myself together, I'm going to start working out. I'm going on that diet.' —1993 On Money'I've always thought the Grateful Dead should be sponsored by the government or something. It should be a public service, you know, and they should set us up at places that need to get high. That's the kind of thing we should be doing. We shouldn't be in business.' —1972 'Somehow, we've ended up successes. But this ain't exactly what we had in mind, 12,000-seat halls and big bucks. We're trying not to redefine. What can we do that's more fun, more interesting?' —1973 'We really manage ourselves. The band is the board of directors, and we have regular meetings with our lawyers and our accountants that take about three hours, every three weeks. The last couple of times, I've been there screaming, 'Hey, you guys!' Because there are times when you go onstage and it's just plain hard to do and you start to wonder, 'Why the fuck are we doing this if it's so hard?'' —1991 On the SixtiesIt wasn't a gig, it was the Acid Tests, where anything was OK. Thousands of people, man, all helplessly stoned, all finding themselves in a roomful of other thousands of people, none of whom any of them were afraid of. It was magic, far-out, beautiful magic.' —1969 'The [Black] Panthers are righteous. What they're doing is actual, practical things. They got a free breakfast trip, and they're starting a free shoes thing – they're starting shoe factories and stuff like that. They're really doing things, man. They're into action, and that's something we can understand 'cause we're from a place where talk is cheap.' —1970 'I thought we were experiencing a lucky vacation from the rest of consensual reality to try stuff out. I didn't have anything invested in the idea that the world was going to change. Our world certainly changed. Our part of it did what it was supposed to do, and it's continuing to do it, continuing to evolve. It's a process. I believe that if you open the door to the process, it tells you how to do it and it works. It's a life strategy that I think anyone can employ.' —1994 On SongwritingI don't write them unless I absolutely have to. I don't wake up in the morning and say, 'Jeez, I feel great today. I think I'll write a song.' I mean, anything is more interesting to me than writing a song. It's like pulling teeth. I don't enjoy it a bit.' —1991 'I don't feel I have what it to takes to be a writer. I've never been able to sustain an idea and get it down. It's hard for me to do it with music, too. My own preferences are for improvisation, for making it up as we along. The idea of picking, of eliminating possibilities by deciding, that's difficult for me.' —1993 'Robert Hunter's really good about writing into my beliefs. He knows I'm going to be battling with my intelligence about whether I can sing this lyric or whether I'm going to feel like an idiot singing it.' —1994 'I don't think of my ideas as being far-out, musically. What works for me is the emotional component, not the technical.' —1993 On Books'My life would be life would be miserable if I didn't have those little chunks of Dylan Thomas and T.S. Eliot. I can't imagine life without that stuff. Those are the payoffs: the finest moments in music, the finest moments in movies. Great moments are part of what support you as an artist and a human.'—1991 'I fell in with a teacher who turned me on to the intellectual world. He said, 'Here, read this.' It was 1984 when I was 11 or 12. That was when I was turning on, so to speak, or became aware of a whole other world that was other than the thing you got in school, that you got in the movies and all that; something very different.' —1972 On Concerts'I have a real problem with standing onstage. I feel like an idiot most of the time. It's like getting up in front of your senior class and making a speech. Basically, when you get up in front of a lot of people, you feel like an idiot. There's no getting around that.' —1991 'Here we are getting into our 50s, and where are these people who keep coming to our shows coming from? What do they find so fascinating about these middle-aged bastards playing basically the same thing we've always played? There must be a dearth of fun out there in America. Or adventure. Maybe we're one of the last adventures in America. I don't know.' —1991 Best of Rolling Stone Sly and the Family Stone: 20 Essential Songs The 50 Greatest Eminem Songs All 274 of Taylor Swift's Songs, Ranked Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
See Dead and Company Perform ‘Box of Rain' With Phil Lesh's Son Grahame at Dead 60 Show
Dead and Company paid tribute to the late Phil Lesh on the opening night of their Dead 60 anniversary concerts in San Francisco by bringing out Lesh's son Grahame for 'Box of Rain.' The Bob Weir and John Mayer-fronted band have sparingly performed the Lesh-sung American Beauty classic, one of the bassist's signature songs, since their inception in 2015; Dead and Company played 'Box of Rain' only one other time in the past three years, at their first Sphere weekend since Lesh's death in October 2024. More from Rolling Stone See Sturgill Simpson Join Dead and Company for 'Morning Dew' at GD 60 Dead & Company's San Francisco Livestream: How to Watch the Golden Gate Park Concerts Online The Tao of Jerry Garcia: 31 Trippy Quotes From the Grateful Dead Co-Founder Grahame Lesh — who led an all-star band, similar to his father's Phil & Friends, at a pre-Dead 60 concert Thursday at San Francisco's Pier 48 — handled lead vocals and wielded his father's bass for 'Box of Rain,' then stuck around to join Dead and Company for a rendition of 'Playing in the Band.' Friday night's opening concert of the Dead 60 weekend took place on what would have been Jerry Garcia's 83rd birthday on August 1. As the shows at the Golden Gate Park mark the Grateful Dead's 60th anniversary, Garcia was also remembered as his daughter Trixie appeared onstage to introduce Dead and Company, the San Francisco Chronicle reported. Billy Strings, who opened the show Friday, later joined Dead and Company on 'Wharf Rat': Dead and Company will return to Golden Gate Park, where the Grateful Dead staged at least 14 gigs spanning from 1967 to 1991, on Saturday and Sunday night. Rolling Stone spoke with Bobby Weir about the band potentially reuniting for the 60th anniversary, which Phil Lesh, Bill Kreutzmann, and Mickey Hart discussed before Lesh died. 'I think when Phil checked out, so did that notion, because we don't have a bass player who's been playing with us for 60 years now. And that was the intriguing prospect.… I think you need somebody holding down the bottom. Phil had all kinds of ideas that were pretty much unique to him. I grew up with Phil holding down the bottom in his unique way,' Weir said. He added: 'I suppose I could go back out. I wouldn't put anybody in his place, so it would be a trio at this point. It'd be me and two drummers. I'd have to think about that. I haven't thought about it — it's just now occurring to me that it's a possibility that we could do that, since you asked.… I guess we'll just see what the three of us can pull together.' Best of Rolling Stone Sly and the Family Stone: 20 Essential Songs The 50 Greatest Eminem Songs All 274 of Taylor Swift's Songs, Ranked Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
See Sturgill Simpson Join Dead and Company for ‘Morning Dew' at GD 60
Dead and Company continued their Grateful Dead 60th anniversary celebration Saturday at San Francisco's Golden Gate Park, this time bringing out Sturgill Simpson for a rendition of 'Morning Dew.' Simpson, who — after established himself as a torchbearer of the Dead's jam aesthetic during his recent tours — served as opener for the second GD 60 show, led the group through 'Morning Dew,' and traded solos with John Mayer over the track's 12-minute runtime. More from Rolling Stone See Dead and Company Perform 'Box of Rain' With Phil Lesh's Son Grahame at Dead 60 Show Dead & Company's San Francisco Livestream: How to Watch the Golden Gate Park Concerts Online The Tao of Jerry Garcia: 31 Trippy Quotes From the Grateful Dead Co-Founder Simpson was previously enlisted as part of the Kennedy Center Honors' tribute to the Grateful Dead earlier this year, where he performed 'Ripple.' The 60th anniversary shows kicked off Friday with a guest appearance by Grahame Lesh, son of the late Phil Lesh, and honored his father by leading Dead and Company on 'Box of Rain,' even playing one of Phil's basses; Grahame Lesh also joined the band for 'St. Stephen' during Saturday's show. The GD 60 celebration concludes with one last show on Sunday night. In other Dead-related news, in what would have been Jerry Garcia's birthday on August 1, San Francisco mayor Daniel Lurie announced that a portion of Harrington Street where the guitarist's childhood home resided would be renamed Jerry Garcia Street: Best of Rolling Stone Sly and the Family Stone: 20 Essential Songs The 50 Greatest Eminem Songs All 274 of Taylor Swift's Songs, Ranked Solve the daily Crossword
Chicago Tribune
03-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
It's been 30 years since the Grateful Dead's final concerts at Soldier Field in Chicago
The longest, strangest trip embarked upon by a rock 'n' roll band ended 30 years ago this week at Soldier Field. On Sunday, July 9, 1995, the Grateful Dead played what would be its final concert with its full lineup at the stadium — the harmonious echoes of 'Box of Rain' concluding a fascinating musical journey that began in May 1965 at a small pizza parlor in California and encompassed more than 2,300 shows. Coming just before a stifling heat wave engulfed the city, the Grateful Dead's two-night lakefront stand remains memorable for many reasons — some better off forgotten. While the sextet rebounded from a Saturday production that witnessed lead singer Jerry Garcia forgetting lyrics, flubbing notes and demonstrating clear signs of ailing health, the uneven closing show concluded what's now known as the 'Tour from Hell' — a trek haunted by uninspired performances, gate-crashing incidents, weather-related injuries, death threats and deplorable behavior from some fans. Take it from someone who was there: It was a bad scene. An anomaly, really, in the Grateful Dead's local history. Though the band's newest archival trove — 'Enjoying the Ride,' a 60-disc box set themed around the group's ties to select venues — spotlights what was then Deer Creek Music Center in Noblesville, Indiana, and Alpine Valley Music Theatre in East Troy, Wisconsin, to represent the Midwest, the Dead made Chicago its go-to base in the heartland. Far surpassing the number of its respective appearances in Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Detroit, Indianapolis, Kansas City and St. Louis, the Grateful Dead played some 70 dates in the Chicago area. Not included in that tally: The regrouped collective's three 'Fare Thee Well' shows in July 2015 at Soldier Field. Clever marketing lingo aside, nothing disguises the fact that the band ceased when Garcia died of a heart attack shortly after turning 53 in August 1995. Here are 10 of the most significant visits from a band that looms perhaps even larger today than during its existence. More than three years after forming, the Grateful Dead arrived for its Chicago debut at a bygone Uptown venue that hosted legends such as Led Zeppelin and The Who before they became massive. Freshly discharged from the Air Force, keyboardist Tom Constanten officially joined the collective earlier in the week. The Grateful Dead is nascent enough that no definitive setlist information survives for either show. Reporting on the second night for the Tribune's youth music column, Robb Baker amusingly observed: 'They have no good vocalist; their material itself is not that memorable (you don't go around humming Dead tunes); and it takes them forever to really get warmed up.' Ultimately, he succumbed to the band's eclectic charms and gave it a rave. The Grateful Dead returned to the same location the following January and again that April. A portion of the latter visit is documented on 'Dick's Picks Volume 26.' Mirroring the right-into-the-fire experience of his predecessor, Constanten, whose brief tenure ended in early 1970, keyboardist Keith Godchaux had one show under his belt when the Grateful Dead arrived for its second of a career total of four residencies at Auditorium Theatre. He was tasked with spelling the playing of beloved original member Ron 'Pigpen' McKernan, on hiatus due to health problems that led to his death in early 1973. Adding to the pressure? The Grateful Dead premiered an array of new tunes ('Tennessee Jed,' 'Comes a Time,' 'Jack Straw,' 'Mexicali Blues' 'One More Saturday Night' among them). And Oak Park radio station WGLD-FM broadcasted night one, which contained the final performance of the obscure ditty 'The Frozen Logger.' Godchaux, who stayed with the Grateful Dead until 1979, passed his test. Both concerts sizzled. The first, which prompted the Chicago Sun-Times to predict 'a revival for dance halls' and Tribune critic Lynn Van Matre to deem the band 'relaxed, yet very much together,' featured a 'St. Stephen'-led encore. The second, chronicled on 'Dave's Picks Volume 3,' sparked with a transcendent 'That's It for the Other One' suite. No regional Grateful Dead show witnessed more back-and-forth planning drama than the band's sole Evanston date. Daily Northwestern archives show that attempts to book the group began in April 1970. Efforts to land the band for the university's 1973 homecoming unfolded over several months. Debates pitted organizers against administrators fearful of issues related to security, safety, cost and behavior by non-campus attendees. Despite opposition from the dean and contractual uncertainty that stretched into mid-October, the student government — with a big assist from Jam Productions — secured the artist it wanted. Northwestern students paid $4.50, one dollar less than the public. But more money than the estimated 50 to 100 people who gained entrance by buying discounted admission from entrepreneurial kids who found untorn tickets discarded under the bleachers by a careless Jam attendant and re-sold them outside. Inside, amid Halloween decor and a capacity crowd, the Grateful Dead played four hours despite guitarist-vocalist Bob Weir reportedly feeling under the weather. Part of the show can be heard on the two-disc 'Wake of the Flood' reissue. The Grateful Dead's second and final concert at the now-demolished Canaryville arena marked the only local appearance of the band's complete, near-mythical Wall of Sound. The subject of 'Loud and Clear,' a brand-new book by Chicago-based writer Brian Anderson, the pioneering sound reinforcement system became as famous for its spectacular fidelity as its immense size. Because the 75-ton array proved incredibly labor-intensive and expensive to schlep from show to show, the group retired it in October 1974. In addition to marking the group's last area gig for nearly two years, this excellent mid-summer performance remains noteworthy for a collaborative interlude between Grateful Dead bassist Phil Lesh and Ned Lagin. The electronic composer experimented with Lesh nearly two dozen times using the Wall of Sound and released his quadraphonic 'Seastones' album on the group's record label. Garcia, Weir, Lesh and percussionist Mickey Hart's afternoon appearance at Rambler Room — a hybrid cafeteria/gathering space in the now-razed Centennial Forum on Loyola University's Rogers Park campus — doesn't technically qualify as a Grateful Dead show. But few Chicago dates harbor more intrigue than this impromptu 'Bob Weir and Friends' gathering. Seated in front of a hand-drawn Hunger Week poster, the band members performed acoustically together for the first time since 1970. They dug into chestnuts — Jelly Roll Morton's 'Winin' Boy Blues,' the traditional 'Tom Dooley,' the Memphis Jug Band's 'K.C. Moan,' Weir's 'This Time Forever' — the Grateful Dead never before or again attempted in public. The first rendition of 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door,' a Bob Dylan number the full group wouldn't play until 1987, anchored the set. After finishing with a romp through Buddy Holly's 'Oh Boy!,' the quartet headed a couple miles south to Uptown Theatre for its second show of a three-night run. Though the Grateful Dead usually kicked off the year in California or on the East Coast, Chicago got the honor in 1981 when the group launched its spring jaunt at Uptown Theatre — an architectural gem that still sits, decaying, awaiting its second act. The three-night run marked the Grateful Dead's sixth and final hurrah at the movie palace, which closed its doors for good that December. (Jerry Garcia returned in June with his namesake band.) Due to an intimacy and acoustic signature that would cause the balcony to vibrate from certain frequencies, Uptown Theatre quickly became known among fans as a magical spot to see the group. The feeling seemed mutual. In the span of 37 months, the band headlined an astonishing 17 shows at Uptown Theatre, which hosted the Grateful Dead more times than any local venue. A-list examples of early '80s Grateful Dead, these shows should be short-listed for the band's ongoing archival series. Relatedly, the group's Dec. 3, 1979 date at Uptown Theatre comprises 'Dave's Picks Volume 31.' As the Grateful Dead waded into the mid-'80s, the odds of catching a truly great show declined. Garcia, his disheveled hair increasingly gray, ballooned in weight and often lost a beat. The band shunned the studio, releasing no original albums between 1980 and 1987. Yet the concert vibes remained healthy and the scene mellow, free of the toxic misconduct that violated the Deadheads' unspoken 'do no harm' ethic after the group's popularity exploded in the late '80s. Plus, the group still channeled bursts of imagination. This pair of dates represents the Grateful Dead's only appearance at a welcoming outdoor venue that ultimately gave way to a new, far inferior option 60 miles away in Tinley Park. Too bad. Once a favorite among tape traders, June 27 saw the band scamper through one of the first performances of 'Hell in a Bucket' and lock into a fervent 'Scarlet Begonias' into 'Fire on the Mountain' coupling. The next evening sounded nearly equally on point and culminated with the New Orleans staple 'Iko Iko' unveiled as an encore for one of just three occasions in the group's career. Given these concerts capped the Grateful Dead's stellar 1990 summer tour, a trek that piggybacked onto a spring trek that stands as one of the most acclaimed in the band's history, they should evoke only joyous memories. As delightful as the performances remain, they are overshadowed by the death of keyboardist Brent Mydland — whose drug overdose on July 26 permanently altered the trajectory of the band and sent Garcia into a dark spiral — and nightmarish management. Frustrated with limited road access into the venue and impassable traffic jams, fans parked their cars on the highway and walked the rest of the way. Commercial truck traffic ground to a halt. State police closed westbound lanes on I-80 from I-57 to Harlem Avenue, and ordered hundreds of vehicles towed. Unaccustomed to large concerts in their area — World Music Theatre opened that June — neighboring residents also complained about the alleged invasion of Deadheads who cleaned out stores of certain supplies and foodstuffs. Then, there were the insurmountable shortcomings of the venue that, in the words of renowned Grateful Dead sound engineer Dan Healy, constituted 'the most awful sounding place I've ever heard in my life — it's beyond my wildest imagination.' Suffice it to say the band wasn't asked back. The Grateful Dead collaborated onstage in the '90s with esteemed jazz saxophonists Branford Marsalis, Ornette Coleman and David Murray on the coasts, the same regions its brief 1987 trek with Bob Dylan unfolded. Local fans starved for a similar treat lucked out at the first of the band's two-night Soldier Field engagement when opener Steve Miller joined the ensemble for four songs in the second set and an electrifying encore of Them's 'Gloria.' Extending the bluesy motifs, Chicago-based harmonica virtuoso James Cotton also guested on the latter number as well as on a smoky version of Sonny Boy Williamson's 'Good Morning Little Schoolgirl' and charged take of Bobby Bland's 'Turn on Your Lovelight.' Such location-cognizant nods and unexpected twists — which extended to a blaring train whistle during the psychedelic 'Space' sequence — confirmed the Grateful Dead could still surprise and awe, even in stadium settings. The Grateful Dead commenced its spring 1993 outing with a radiant 'Here Comes Sunshine' and didn't look back until its second-to-last residency at Rosemont Horizon concluded a few nights later. Reinvigorated with a batch of promising new songs ('Liberty,' 'Days Between,' 'Lazy River Road,' 'Broken Arrow,' 'Eternity') and eager to refine recent material road-tested a year prior ('So Many Roads,' 'Wave to the Wind,' 'Way to Go Home'), the band strongly suggested it had more to offer in its fourth decade together. And yet, bittersweetly, Garcia's beautiful, gospel-etched timbre and choice of poignant material — a somber 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door,' a spiritual 'Standing on the Moon,' a symbolic cover of Dylan's 'It's All Over Now, Baby Blue' — indicated an acute awareness of endings and mortality. Both would wait. On March 10, the band stunned everyone with the rare, and final, 'Mind Left Body Jam.' At the finale, Chicago word-jazz poet and radio announcer Ken Nordine further shattered sensory perceptions by reciting 'Flibberty Jib' and 'The Island' during the 'Drums' into 'Space' improvisation. We never saw it coming. In other words, signature Grateful Dead. Then, and now, a band beyond description.
Yahoo
13-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Five Joyful Ways to Spend Time Online
This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here. Welcome back to The Daily's Sunday culture edition. The internet is a choose-your-own-adventure place, but it can sometimes feel like too many roads lead to doomscrolling. In an effort to suggest more joyful destinations, The Atlantic's writers and editors answer the question: What's your favorite way to spend time online? In moments of chaos, I want to play The Sims. Lately, I've been playing it a lot. I've had various iterations of the game since I was a child, when there was such a thing as a 'computer room' and games were bought at Best Buy as very precious, very scratchable CD-ROMs. Give me the soothing, dulcet tones of the 'Create a Sim' music while I pick my Sim's new party outfit and personality traits (Art Lover, Nosy, Lactose Intolerant). Or the cheap thrill of having everyone at the same virtual table eat the same food at the same time (harder than you might think). Or the humble reminder that a kitchen stove can catch fire at a moment's notice. What better salve for reality than micromanaging other people's lives, in which there are truly no stakes? Even if that stove does catch fire, you can 'rosebud' your way to a better one. The cheat codes even extend life itself: I've turned off the game's aging feature because my Sims family has a dog, and I just can't deal with that right now. — Jinae West, senior podcast producer *** I never get tired of reading the YouTube comments beneath some of my favorite songs. I love to scroll through the missives, peering into the lives of strangers, as a song unfolds. So many digital forums are needlessly aggressive, but an earnest YouTube comment thread can briefly restore your faith in your fellow online humans like nothing else. People can get incredibly specific with experiences and memories—there's the man who said Creedence Clearwater Revival's 'Long as I Can See the Light' helped him survive more than 42 years in prison, and the person who said he'd listen to the song every morning in the shower before chemotherapy. More than a few of these comments concern life-changing moments: Under Wilco's 'Jesus, Etc.' video, two people talk of playing the song for their babies; beneath the Grateful Dead's 'Box of Rain,' someone shares that their grandfather asked them to put this on as he took his last breaths. I love that I will never meet these people, and that they're posting for the sake of posting—and, perhaps, to temporarily lift up their fellow web traveler. — John Hendrickson, staff writer *** We deify celebrities, often to a fault. First We Feast's Hot Ones proves that even if they wrote your favorite song, all must bow to hot sauce. The talk show, hosted by Sean Evans on YouTube, challenges guests to eat 10 chicken wings, each of which is spicier than the last. DJ Khaled made it to wing No. 3 before calling it quits; Ricky Gervais tapped out after wing No. 8. (In the latter's defense, his wing was topped with Da' Bomb: Beyond Insanity hot sauce.) It turns out that most people tell the truth when fighting for their life against hot wings. But Evans (whose years of hosting the show must have fried his taste buds) doesn't capitalize on their moment of weakness to probe for gossip. He asks interviewees about their inspiration or creative process, while also tossing in some trivia. More valuable than any one answer is how the show makes you see your idols. Every glug of milk and loud burp pushes them off their pedestal and into more relatable terrain. Scientists say we enjoy spicy food because it reminds us that we are alive. I enjoy Hot Ones because it reminds me that my favorite stars are real people too, and that they might be just as spice-averse as I am. — Amogh Dimri, assistant editor *** I spent most of my childhood accumulating mountains of collectible cards. Baseball, basketball, Pokémon: If it was printed on a piece of card stock, I wanted it. My interest in the hobby waned in my teens—who needs card stock when you can drive?—but as a 33-year-old, I've found myself reconnecting with the hobby, thanks to a new breed of online content creators who open packs of cards on camera. A favorite is ShadowlessRed on Instagram, who has been opening a Pokémon pack each day in search of a relatively unremarkable holographic card of an alienlike creature wearing what appears to be a space suit. The card he's after can be easily purchased online for about $30, making his nearly 500-day quest to find it both unnecessary and deeply financially irresponsible. And yet, I find the videos transfixing. There is something heartwarming about watching someone pursue something they're unabashedly passionate about—even if it's just a game for kids. — Nicholas Florko, staff writer *** I am aware that I could never enjoy living in a van, partly because it seems uncomfortable to be responsible for my own plumbing and partly because I think driving is way too dangerous. Yet I love watching other people live in vans. I particularly love a couple, Courtnie and Nate, whose last names I do not know, and a young woman named Abby who lives in her van by herself (but sometimes her dad visits!). Nothing soothes me like watching these people do their little chores and eat their little snacks and read in their little bunks. I do not envy them, because I reside in the greatest place in the world (Brooklyn), but sometimes I do feel a whisper of What if? The nomadic lifestyle is the opposite of mine in every way: The van people go to bed in their neat little bunk after doing their dinner dishes right away, and sometimes, they wake up next to a mountain or a beach. In my apartment, something always needs tidying, but I'm never tidying it, and I never wake up next to a mountain or a beach. Even though each van-life video basically shows people doing the same things over and over again, I'm always so happy to tune in. Some might say that the appeal of watching such menial repetitions is feeling a degree of control during a time when that feeling is hard to come by. Yes … I think I would also say that. — Kaitlyn Tiffany, staff writer Here are three Sunday reads from The Atlantic: What the comfort class doesn't get Here are the places where the recession has already begun. 'Can I still teach my Yale course on racism?' The Week Ahead Sinners, a film by Ryan Coogler about twin brothers who return to Mississippi and come across evil forces (in theaters Friday) Season 2 of The Last of Us, a sci-fi zombie series based on the hit video game (premieres tonight on Max) Lower Than the Angels: A History of Sex and Christianity, a book by the historian Diarmaid MacCulloch about three millenniums of Christians encountering sex, gender, and the family (out Tuesday) Essay Dwyane Wade's Greatest Challenge By D. Watkins On a Sunday in October, a group of spectators gathered outside the Kaseya Center, the home of the Miami Heat. They sat in rows of chairs, arranged in a half circle. The crowd was there for the unveiling of a statue of Dwyane Wade, the superstar who had led the team to three NBA championships. I wasn't enough of a VIP to get a seat, so I found a spot on a gate during the unveiling, behind Wade and his family. I knew he had been anxiously awaiting the day. Read the full article. More in Culture A truly macabre White Lotus plot Jonathan Majors is looking for redemption. Will he find it? When your dream job is a lie 'Why I played the Kennedy Center' The late-night experiment that puts comedy first Reclaim imperfect faces, Sophie Gilbert writes. Catch Up on The confrontation between Trump and the Supreme Court has arrived. This is why dictatorships fail, Anne Applebaum writes. David Brooks: 'I should have seen this coming.' Photo Album Take a look at these photos of the week, which show flooding in America, the Grand National horse race in Liverpool, a stranded parachutist in France, and more. Explore all of our newsletters. When you buy a book using a link in this newsletter, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic. Article originally published at The Atlantic
