[Comments have been added.]
Happy New Year to you!
It's New Year's Eve, so what better time to talk about resolutions? And resolve?
To begin with, a question—do you have any memory of ever sticking with a New Year's resolution for the whole year? I can't say as I do. In fact, I can't say I've ever remembered what my resolution(s) for the year were by the time the end of that year rolls around. Because of course when the odometer ticks over, as it will tonight, it's not just the beginning of the next year, it's also the ending of the last one. Without looking for the similar post I no doubt wrote last year, I haven't a clue what I resolved to do in 2021. I don't recall.
2022 C.E.
I have just one insight here: we all actually know what we have to do. It's really more a matter of facing fear, counteracting entropy, forging ahead, sucking it up, overcoming inertia, working the plan, or persevering after the enthusiasm wanes or the resolve dissolves—isn't it?
Be it hereby resolved...
So here are my two for 2022, for what they're worth, which might not be very much.
1.) I had the bright idea that what I should do for TOP is review lenses. I've been aware for a while that I'm no longer very happy reviewing cameras, for the simple reason that cameras are too complicated now, and I don't like the complexity and get no joy from it. I like beautiful simplicity, and that's just not the way the devices are now. And, as a reviewer, I stand little chance of understanding a new camera better in a week or two than the young mavens in the full flush of their shopping years understand them from poring over the voluminous info and the plethora of videos that exist. I can do it, of course; if I force myself. It's just that I don't have enough patience and interest any more to keep up with the guy who is obsessing over every little specification and wading into every obscure online argument...and who thinks that all that matters. To paraphrase Mrs. Pendrake in the whorehouse in Little Big Man (ancient movie reference—sorry, twentysomethings): I like cameras, just not all the time.
But I could review lenses. I enjoy trying new lenses, I can get them just by asking for them, and reviewing one involves looking and seeing and judgement, both of which I think are essential ingredients of reviews that are tasty and fun to read. I write pretty good lens reviews, I think.
2.) I need to learn to cook. Can't escape it. Can't get around it, can't go over it, can't avoid it. To sustain any way of eating you've chosen, you need something like one breakfast, three lunches, and a dozen dinners. That's to have a minimum of variety such that you can keep going without over-saturating yourself with one dish and making yourself sick of it.
The good news is that most people who aren't cooks don't have an infinite number of recipes they prepare in a never-ending succession. Just as we don't have an infinite amount of clothing in our closets, but rather a selection which we rotate intelligently, normal families and normal people don't have to have an infinite number of go-to dinners—and some have just enough so that repetition doesn't get onerous.
I really have no aptitude for cooking. I'm not good at it, don't enjoy it, and find it a chore. I know a certain number of cooks will chime in that "anyone can cook," but it's just not my thing. However, I need to learn how to cook a dozen dinners. It's simple self defense. No one is going to do it for me.
Compliance
I've talked about this topic before, but it's important and bears revisiting. In sobriety (I'm sober 31 years and part of today so far), there's a concept called "rebellion." I had a period in which I knew I needed to stop drinking, but I wouldn't. That's rebellion. The opposite of rebellion is compliance. My particular addiction*, alcoholism, is a slow-motion torture—it can take many years or even decades to play out. But at least it eventually leads some of us to compliance, for the simple reason that, unless you accept total abstinence (which is the only way to arrest it), it always gets worse. At every stage of the way, we think if it doesn't get any worse than this I'll be all right and I can keep on drinking...but it always gets worse. It never stays the same. It's a progressive disease. Eventually the point comes where rebellion needs to cease.
Or has to cease. The alternative is death. Somewhere between seven and nine out of every ten alcoholics either die drinking or die of drinking. I had two cousins who went that way. Joe, who was my age, drove into a pine tree one night, dead drunk, same death as his Dad before him (in my mind it's the same tree, but that's probably wrong), and his sister Amy, age 40, fell off the wagon with a bang and her liver shut down. When they loaded her into the ambulance, before she lost consciousness for the last time, she said, "I went too far this time, didn't I?"
Yep.
It's a totally weird disease. I heard about a guy whose boss came to him and said, "either you quit drinking or you're fired," and, despite the fact that he absolutely needed his job to pay his rent and buy his food, he instantly thought, well, there goes my job. That's crazy. But I understand.
When we're suffering from rebellion, what we're rebelling against are our own desires. That is, we make a resolution—because, like I said, we already know what we should do—and then we rebel against our own plan, our own ambition, our own common sense, our own best interest. Our own desire! We rebel against what we want for ourselves. Which is crazy, really.
I need to learn how to cook a dozen go-to dinners in 2022. It's my very own desire. Will I rebel, or comply? Maybe I should just settle for remembering what this resolution was, come the end of this year that for now is new.
All best wishes to you, in 2022.
Mike
P.S. The counter tells me this post is 1042 words, which reminds me of Bach's BWV 1042, perfect music for today. Check it out!
*By the way, here's the only accurate test of whether you are an alcoholic: stop drinking entirely for six weeks. Then, at the end of the six weeks, if you forget to start again, you are not an alcoholic.
Book o' the Week
Eyes Wide Open! 100 Years of Leica Photography Edited by Hans-Michael Koetzle
Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:
[Ed. note: As often happens, the following two opposing viewpoints arrived one right after the other.]
Tom Burke: "Lens reviews? Are you sure??
"It’s just that there are so many out there, both blogs and YouTube videos. You’ll be expected to produce charts; optical measurements; you’ll be expected to make throwaway comments to the effect that you understand how unrealistic lens test charts are, but hey! they’re the best thing we’ve got; and above all you’ll have to spend time doing all the stuff that I suspect you don’t really want to do. Roger Cicala already does an excellent job reviewing lenses, and why wouldn’t he? Who else has 100+ examples of the same lens? Or has multiple examples of equivalent lenses from all the manufacturers, and can compare them? And all that optical test kit he’s got….
"I think I’m trying to say that this seems to be an odd direction to take. Lens reviews—indeed, reviews of anything—are all over the internet, not generally of high quality, and usually repeat each other. Have you seen how many reviews there have been of the new Apple MacBook Pro laptops? They all feature the same benchmarks from the same software tools, so the results are pretty much the same and of course the conclusions are also quite similar. Similarly with lens reviews, in my experience.
"I might be wrong, and I apologise if this seems harsh, but I don’t think that’s where your strength are, or indeed why I read TOP. I’d always rather read about why you took that beautiful image of Butters at the bottom of the stairs; what was going through your mind at the time; and what you were hoping to achieve with the image, rather than the technical details of how it was taken, or what with. Please carry on with that!
"(Once again, apologies for the directness. And—Happy New Year! 2022 has got to be better than 2021.)"
Nick: "Lens reviews would be a great idea! For one, in most cases almost every modern camera is 'pretty good' and you can simply read spec sheets to see if it has particular new features you may want/need. But lens reviews are not often done with any subtlety or experience around how they see/draw which I think would be a specialty of yours. I may be able to look up MTF curves, but understanding how things actually look different is hard. For example I have a 24–70mm ƒ/2.8 to cover most of what I need, but how does that at 50mm look different to my Sigma Art 50mm at ƒ/2.8? If it's not an angle of view or aperture choice, what are the artistic choices and different looks given by different designs?"
MikeR (partial comment): "I think I threw it away some time this year, but I had a half-page paper where I had written about five things to do. I titled it, 'Resolutions for 20##.' Each year, I would cross out the old year, write in the new one, scan the list, and find that no change was needed. As in, I didn't do any of them."
[Ed. note: The full text of "partial comments" can be seen in the full Comments section, accessible in the footer of the post. The Featured Comments on TOP are meant to be a sampling, for the convenience of those who don't want to read all the comments.]
John Dahlstet: "I had decided to retire at the end of 1997 and, with that, end my filthy smoking habit. I was tired of being held hostage by tobacco. My last official day of work was 31 December '97, and on 3 January '98 I smoked my last cigarette about midnight. I have been tobacco free ever since. Today the smell of tobacco smoke or that idiotic vaping residue makes me ill. Quitting tobacco and later on giving up booze frees up substantial cash for other things: cameras and lenses come to mind."
Mike replies: That's great. Good work. Your comment reminded me of this, which you might enjoy.... :-)
David Francis: "For me, lens reviews are not much of a draw, so I would not be hugely disappointed if that particular resolution fizzled. What I would like to see more of is what you proposed in your original mission statement—content about the culture of photography, as it was in the past and as it is evolving now. What can you (and your insightful readers) tell us about the work of some of the greats of the past? Who is doing interesting work now? How does photography relate to other visual arts, and how is that changing? Why do we take photographs? What is their social value? What are the qualities that make a portrait, landscape, street photograph, or any other photograph memorable? Some of this may sound a tad academic, but it doesn't have to be. There's an infinite amount of material to be mined around these and similar topics. That's not to say that there is no place for discussions of lenses and other gear.
"Everybody likes gear, but there's more to photography than that. All the best for 2022."
Lothar Adler: "I am so happy to read that you want to devote more time to looking at lenses again! Lenses are so important in the representation, the optical transformation of the visible. Many people are not aware of this point of view in today's photographic life, because most lenses nowadays have been optimized by means of modern technology to objectifiable parameters and are therefore very similar. It is comparable to the modern design of cars. Compared to earlier times, the types are very similar, because they have been measured, among other things, in the wind tunnel and physically optimized according to advantageous flow conditions.
"The fact that there are a lot of lens tests and opinions on the Internet has no meaning for me, because the decisive factor is who and with what wealth of experience makes the evaluation of this optical transformation by the lens.
"What I think of all the time now is the great insight of J.W. v. Goethe, the German writer and scholar, who wrote: 'The most difficult thing is what seems the easiest to you, to see with your eyes what lies in front of your eyes.'"
