On getting your freak on and resisting an anticipatory mindset.
Originally published on SubstackMaybe you wouldn’t expect this coming from me, but one of my favorite pieces of “content” to “engage” with these days is Dimension 20. For those of you unfamiliar, it’s a show where improv comedians play Dungeons & Dragons. Prior to watching Fantasy High on YouTube, I can’t say I had super strong connections to the worlds of improv (though I do think it’s a fascinating skill) or fantasy (though the LOTR films are formative for me) — but I still dug it. I had stumbled across what was essentially a bunch of funny, supportive people trying to tell a story together, with the successes and failures of that story being determined in part by chance. It ends up feeling sort of like a podcast meets old-school radio drama. It’s nerdy. It’s cool.
I was very surprised when I first learned that Dimension 20 had sold out Madison Square Garden. Turns out I’m far from being alone in my love of this thing. In what is surely evidence of our continual information siloing, it was weird to discover that what I thought was a weird acquired taste was actually massively popular and widely adored.
Brennan Lee Mulligan (the earnest, dad-vibed, eminently affable Dungeon Master of the show) expresses his own befuddlement at the show’s success in an interview. He talks about how he would never have guessed in a million years that live-action tabletop role-playing would take off in the way it has. And he makes it clear that achieving this level of recognition was very much not a premeditated thing.
“For all the people out there that are trend watchers, or are trying to predict the future, or are trying to create art in conversation with “the market” … I look at my career, and the careers of the people that I respect, and I go that is not it. You gotta honor the freaky little light in your heart. Because how could you predict the shit that ends up happening?”
In other words, rolling dice and talking about dragons is what brought Brennan deep joy, and so that is what he chose to pursue. He has been a Dungeon Master since he was a kid (often being bullied for it), and one gets the feeling that he will be one in his old age, regardless of how many people are watching. And success (commercial success anyway), feels almost impossible to predict. But sometimes “the market” rewards people that embrace their weird passions. If not more often, at least as often as it rewards the people that try to find trends and capitalize on them.
One of the things that drives me crazy about the present state of technology is how predictive so much of it is. Take any question you might pose to ChatGPT. You never just receive an answer; it is always trying to anticipate where you might be headed next; always offering additional actions and follow-ups. Another place I’ve noticed this is Gmail — I will be typing out a sentence and light grey words will appear to the right of my cursor — a case of technology literally trying to finish my thought.
I know this sort of thing can be helpful in the moment, but in aggregate it drives me up the fucking wall. It’s almost like the world these days is trying to tell me what I think before I think it.
This is probably why it’s so easy for me to celebrate the success of something like Dimension 20. In a world where so much of our public life — our communication, our art, our entertainment — tries to anticipate our hopes, fears, and desires, Dimension 20 seems to come from a purer, less mediated place. It doesn’t come from people trying to figure out what will hit. It comes from people honoring the freaky little lights in their hearts.
For me, all of this is also about envisioning a career that’s sustainable and is easy to feel good about. There’s something for all of us to learn from the people who don’t try to reverse-engineer success, but who back into it by pursuing to what they truly love. Do you think Missy Elliott was trying to anticipate her audience when she made this video? Maybe, but I doubt it.
Look, I know that for every Brennan Lee Mulligan there are probably hundreds of counterexamples — people who let their freak flags fly and have nothing to show for it. And also, I don’t blame people for trying to find “the market” through their art or design. I get why you might adapt or adjust your work so it appeals to a wider cross-section of your fellow humans. I understand why you might want to rewrite that chorus so that more people will like it or “get” it. I get why you might write a love song when what you really want to do is write your futuristic Viking-themed concept album. But all I’m saying is that giving that anticipatory or predictive impulse too much oxygen can be weirdly counterproductive. I think audiences have very strong intuitions around this stuff — we can sense when art is trying to anticipate us, when it is trying to provide us with what it thinks we want.
I guess what I’m trying to say — to myself as much as you dear reader (thanks for being here!) — is that maybe you ought to try being true to yourself, even when it might feel scary or ill-advised from a career-perspective. You never know what might happen as a result. At the very least, when you let your freaky little light lead, your fuel burns cleaner and longer. And while I can’t say that there is a direct link between being true to yourself and a flourishing livelihood, maybe it doesn’t hurt your chances nearly as much as you think.
Hope this is encouraging or helpful. See ya next month.
Recent Work
A few new projects for your viewing pleasure. You can always see more over at the ol’ portfolio: brentmccormick.com
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Though much of it is miles above my head, I found this book by physicist Carlo Rovelli weirdly psychedelic and inspiring.