At the invitation of a former student, I gave the keynote address at the 5th Annual Sigma Tau Delta Critical and Creative Writing Conference on the campus of the University of Michigan-Flint. It was an experimental talk in terms of approach and content. My approach was a sort of longform pecha kucha in that I had 60 slides of images and minimal text timed at 30 seconds each. My content concerned the unpacking of a particular phrase and how it relates to intellectual work. Given the curiosity and interest expressed by those unable to attend, I share this week an amended version of that talk. As the title of this post implies, below are the introduction and first section. Where appropriate, I include the same Creative Commons-licensed images used for the keynote.
The title of today's talk, "Seriously Good At This," is a phrase taken from Bioshock, an FPS videogame with Ayn Rand-inspired and dystopian elements. The phrase, though, is the title of a particular in-game achievement, unlocked only when the player completes the game on the hardest difficulty setting. This is a form of recognition, of course, and one not all that different from those who are, like me, talking today about their critical and creative efforts in academia. So, I adopt this phrase because it is appropriate for why we are all here, but I also take it as the title of my talk because it is a phrase I find appealing. To be honest, I'm enamored with it, and I'm curious about its meaning. With permission, I'd like to unpack the constituent parts of this phrase first before moving into some examples of what it means to be "seriously good at this." In doing this, we should not only come to a more nuanced understanding of the phrase but also see how what we do qualifies as being "seriously good at this."
However, there be lolcats here. This is to keep us from getting too serious, to remember that we're not so much engaging in linguistic analysis here (though I welcome it). Instead, consider this more of a thoughtful rumination on meaning. Including a lolcat every 4-5 slides, too, is a declaration of intent, a cry for attention amidst the lunchtime sandwiches we're all focused on eating.
First, I think "seriously" is revealing of a particular manner, if only for a moment. It can also be sustained over time, and I chose this photograph because it supports both observations. This is but one instance in time, a solemn moment imbued with whatever narrative we desire to construct. "Seriously" can be for an instant and it can be sustained, though each might happen by different means.
The particular manner revealed by "seriously" can be a sense of purpose, duty or honor in all we decide to address in our experiences. Like the previous picture, this one of an airmail pilot reveals evidence of a perspective cultivated over time. That much is clear in the pilot's serious near-squinting in sepia.
A sense of purpose, though, requires particulars of us all, such as the effort required to not smile for a portrait. Such a manner may not come from within, but from external forces exerting stifling influence upon us. This means a certain concern about the consequences of our actions. For some, performing "seriously" means lacking playfulness as much as it means commitment. In this regard, I think the question is not to be, but to do.
And I don't think it is possible to take something "seriously" without actually doing it. Whether or not this man is "taking it seriously," the actual caption of this Flickr image, cannot be questioned. Devotion and determination, even in this still photograph, are evident. This is something recognizable by others in how we present ourselves, how we allow ourselves to be seen. Again, there's an element of choice here, too. By "seriously," we mean attention to manner, purpose and consequence.