"Artificial Writing"

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is the most provocative technology since the dawn of the internet in the early 1990s.

A firebrand topic, AI has ignited debates across business sectors. It’s earned a place in the headlines of Hollywood’s recent writers’ strike, as fears rise of film and television content created entirely by robots.

So where do I fall on the issue of AI? Do I see doom or do I see boom? Neither. I see the evolution of computers. I see exciting new enhancements and abilities. I see new routes to human efficiency. If Steve Jobs noted the computer was “a bicycle for the mind,” I’ll offer some evolved plagiarism and claim that AI is “a motorcycle for the mind.” In that spirit, I’ve decided to hop on a few artificially intelligent Harleys and take them for a scenic winding drive up the coast, so to speak.

AI is a tool. Like spreadsheets are a tool. Like Photoshop is a tool.

When Photoshop came out, there were traditional art directors and visual types who considered it cheating. Over the years, best practices emerged and it became a vital part of the creative scene. The software itself moved to the background. Imitators popped up. Photoshop is now seen as a tool. It’s the same way I see AI.

If you’ve spent any time playing around with it, maybe you’ve gotten over the parlor trick of it all. Yes, it’s impressive to enter a short prompt and have your screen fill up with an academic sounding 5 paragraph essay in a matter of seconds. Or maybe you want to re-write your New Years family update in the style of Hemingway. Have at it. It’s the writing equivalent of Instagram filters. It’s amusing and changes the surface of what you created, but it still starts with you.

AI needs a lot of hand holding. Especially if you want to deliver something of substance. A lot of these AI fans I see are too easily impressed. With a critical eye, AI’s execution is super pedestrian. They can spit out generic bullet points or cop well-known literary styles. But there is no substance to it.

Sure, it will get better as we collectively thumbs up and thumbs down our results. But I have yet to see any written content that really lights me up. My reactions more range from “meh” to “huh.” Actually, my favorite bits of AI results are the so-called “hallucinations.” Little phrases or strings of sentences that really go off the deep end and relate in no way to what you asked for. Now, that is poetry. But on the whole, AI written content is derivative, shallow and un-engaging. A.K.A. it’s bad writing.

However my review isn’t all bad. (The visual and video side of AI has repeatedly turned my head.) I have found some use cases for this stage of AI. I basically treat it like a creative partner. It’s like being in a writers’ room. You can toss out half thought through ideas or ask for lists of options. Again, there is no genius coming back, but I’ve found it stimulates my thought and keeps the creative wheels turning.

With this in mind, I’ve create a quick breakdown of what AI can and can’t do. I’ll revisit this periodically, but here is the snapshot as of August 2023.

What AI CAN DO

1. Providing options for better decisions: AI can spit out a bunch of choices, fast. When you come to a turning point in a story or piece of writing, you can ask AI for dozens of options for what could happen next. Then it’s volleyed over to you to act as editor and determine what the best option is. It's like having a digital brainstorming partner, offering a range of options from a different perspective that can lead to more creative solutions.

2. Revealing the flip side: AI can quickly spit out very basic or “first thought” ideas. Doing this early on can save you time by showing you what the obvious answers are. So you can avoid them. Maybe the contrarian idea to some of these thoughts can turn into an unexpected way forward. By using AI as a "bad version" generator, it steers us away from obvious solutions and into more creative paths.

3. Laying the foundation: AI can assist in creating broad outlines and structures for various projects. It's like having a virtual architect that helps you build a solid foundation before delving into the details, ensuring a coherent and organized approach. With the thirty thousand foot view in place, it’s up to you and your human ingenuity to add spark and nuance to the work.

4. Enabling new perspectives: AI can help us zoom out and see the bigger picture, offering alternative viewpoints that we might not have considered. This fresh perspective can be invaluable for breaking out of mental ruts and finding innovative solutions.

5. Generating flash lists: AI can quickly compile lists of information, condensing complex data into easily digestible formats. In longer form writing like screenwriting or working on a novel, AI can serve as a shortcut to some of your research. By asking it to recall details from a certain subject or time period, you can then hand select details that will add texture and relevance to your writing. It’s like having a digital assistant that provides rapid summaries, aiding in efficient decision-making.

6. Emulating a blogging voice: AI can mimic the tone and style of a generic blogger, delivering content in a consistent and approachable manner. While it might lack the human touch, it can still provide valuable insights and information. This may prove helpful for a smaller company or an understaffed team that needs to generate a high volume of written content for discoverability.

What AI CAN'T DO (yet)

1. Crafting succinct and witty short copy: While AI can generate text, it often struggles to capture the nuanced brevity and cleverness that human writers can infuse into concise content. The art of crafting a catchy one-liner or punchy tagline still remains firmly in the realm of human creativity.

2. Producing high-quality scripts: Developing a script that resonates emotionally with audiences requires a deep understanding of narrative structure, character development, and emotional resonance. AI's ability to create compelling and captivating scripts, especially for intricate storytelling, is still a work in progress.

3. Conveying a personal essay: Writing a personal essay involves sharing one's unique experiences, emotions, and reflections. AI struggles to replicate the authenticity and vulnerability that come with personal storytelling, as it lacks the human touch needed to truly connect with readers on an emotional level. Perhaps as more personal versions of AI emerge, we will be able to train our own AIs to learn the stories and anecdotes of our individual lives.

4. Capturing human emotions and nuances: AI often finds it challenging to understand and convey the intricate web of human emotions, tone, and context. It struggles to replicate the empathy and intuition required to recognize subtle emotional cues and adapt communication accordingly.

5. Making subjective and intuitive decisions: While AI excels in data analysis, it struggles when it comes to making subjective choices that require intuition, gut feelings, and understanding of individual preferences. The human ability to make intuitive decisions based on non-quantifiable factors remains beyond AI's capabilities. There are so many examples of human creativity where a decision maker either made a mistake or made a wrong choice. This kind of surprise and illogical revelation is still all us.

Artificial Intelligence is undoubtedly a transformative tool that has woven its way into various aspects of our lives. From offering options and perspectives to generating quick summaries and even mimicking certain writing styles, AI is proving to be a versatile partner in our creative endeavors. However, it's important to recognize its limitations. While AI can excel in specific tasks, it still struggles to replicate the finesse of human creativity and emotion. As we continue to explore the dynamic between AI and human creativity, it becomes clear that while AI can enhance our capabilities, it's the unique touch of human ingenuity that sets us apart.

Embracing AI as a co-writer offers us an opportunity to leverage its strengths while cherishing our innate human abilities. The synergy between human creativity and AI assistance can yield remarkable results, allowing us to explore new horizons and streamline certain aspects of our creative process. As we navigate this evolving landscape, it's essential to understand when to harness AI's potential and when to rely on our human touch. By striking this balance, we can forge ahead into a future where technology and creativity merge harmoniously, enriching our work and expanding our creative horizons in ways we never thought possible.

At the end of the day (at least for today) AI is a tool. Where you point it and how you use it requires inspiration and creativity from you. As of today, you won’t be able to inspire greatness with the press of a button. The greatness is still inside of you. AI may be able to help you mine some of that as you work to turn it into gold.

PODCAST RECO: BONG JOON HO ON THE DIRECTOR'S CUT

Rian Johnson sits down with Korean film director Bong Joon Ho to discuss the full span of his career.

There were two moments from his childhood that really seemed to stick with him and make sense as an origin story for his career in film. Bong was born in the countryside, in a lush, green town on the side of a mountain. When Bong was young, around 7, his father got a job in the city and he found himself uprooted into a concrete jungle. He said everything about the shift of environments was shocking to his system. He found the landscape harsher and colder. He found the people more serious and intense. He didn’t understand at the time why his family had to leave his birthplace and he wrestled to make sense of it in his own mind.

He also talks about how he watched Psycho around the same time, at age nine, and how it was his earliest memory of a film really sticking with him. He couldn’t believe someone could make something like that. He was fascinated by how the story unfolded, all leading up to the shocking twist at the end.

Flash forward to Bong’s filmography and you see these early imprinted themes strung throughout his work. He deals with themes of urban darkness contrasting against the beauty of nature. In his films you can feel that longing to return to the lush greenery of his childhood. Cities are often portrayed as cold and clinical places, full of calculating and equally cold characters.

Bong also speaks about the maturity of the Korean film industry. And how when he started out, there really was no industry and he would need to wear all sorts of hats to get his films going. Now, very quickly, there is an organized and unionized film system in place. He says as more opportunities have come, the Korean film scene has leveled up. He thinks that soon it will be on par with the craft and services you can find in Hollywood. In that sense, his films are much easier to make these days, because there is that shared understanding and experience in film.

He also speaks about the pleasure of being a writer director. He loves to plan out and craft his scripts. He’s working on a followup to Parasite at the moment, as well as another project. Like many creators, he has found the lockdown time to be a fruitful one and he has made good strides to set up his next projects. He also talks about his routine as a writer, and how he needs to work in cafes. He found the words hard to come by in the early days of the lockdown when everything was closed. Now that his favorite cafes are back, he is writing two films simultaneously. Hopefully we won’t have to wait too long to find out what those projects are all about.

Listen to this episode from The Director's Cut - A DGA Podcast on Spotify. Director Bong Joon Ho participates in a conversation with Rian Johnson on Director Bong's beginnings in the industry, how his early life informs his voice, and what guides him in his collaboration with actors.

Podcast Reco: M. Night Shyamalan on How I Built This

Check out the inspiring interview with M. Night Shyamalan on How I Built This. It’s a great podcast if you’re not familiar. Usually they focus on entrepreneurs and tech founders, but they’re doing a little series from the Sundance Film Festival focusing on storytellers.

I feel like M. Night Shyamalan gets written off too easily. Because of his mega-success with The Sixth Sense, he’s been branded as some kind of one-trick pony. He’s The Plot Twist Guy. Yes, that was a cool and signature moment that left a cultural dent, but as this interview reminds us, creative people are more than just a signature moment.

In this wide-ranging interview, Shyamalan breaks down his creative process. He talks about how he carves two hours out every morning to focus on writing. But he goes easy on himself. He allows himself to stare at the wall. He creates a safe space for himself and doesn’t apply un-needed pressure. His only rule is he can’t be productive in non-writing ways. Either his pencil moves, or he works out thoughts in his head. For two hours. Every morning. It’s a solid practice.

He also talks about his early beginning in film making. He grew up with a Super 8 camera and would essentially make his own versions of his favorite movies. Raiders of the Lost Ark, ET, Star Wars, etc. He says that looking back on those experiments, he realizes he missed the most satisfying part of filmmaking, the creativity. He realized that his imitations kept him busy, but they weren’t fulfilling. It wasn’t until he started trying to tell his own stories that something sparked inside of him. Since then, he’s never looked back.

When asked about Hollywood’s lack of diverse voices in storytelling, Shyamalan said he didn’t wait for a seat at the table, but he brought his own seat and tried to make the table longer. I thought that was a pretty unique and inspiring take. He says that staying true to your unique background is your power. That you have to commit to telling the story that only you could tell. Rather than trying to tell a story that Quentin Tarantino or David Fincher could tell. What can only come from you?

And finally he touched on how he has stayed creative during the pandemic. And how 2020 was actually his busiest and most productive year yet. He didn’t have to worry about traveling to promote his work, and instead he could just work. He could get his two writing hours in every day. It allowed him to write, produce and direct his next film as well as his next television project. It’s a good reminder of how to take the limitations we’re all facing, and using them to carve out a space to connect deeply with what it is that you do. May we all have more of that in 2021 and beyond.

GAME 1: YOYOGI CROWS VS. BURNSIDE FREERANGERS

Sport returned last Friday night with an emphatic shot to the soul.

Out at Yoyogi Grounds, the polarizing baseball folk hero, Rockabilly, blasted a three-run home run against the visiting Burnside Freerangers, deep into the forests surrounding Meiji Shrine. Local baseball otaku are still scattered trying to track down the ball.

The soaring homerun was the highlight of the day, that saw sport returning to the world since nations around the globe have moved into lockdown. When asked if his play meant anything special during this moment of global uncertainty, Rockabilly simply said, “I’m not on Twitter.”

Rockabilly is a part of the legendary lineup of baseball’s known as the Yoyogi Crows. A baseball outfit with colossal ability. In this moment, their talent is only outstepped by the significance of existing as the only sport left on earth.

Against the dramatic premise, between the chalk lines, baseball remained the same. Steadily unfolding to the same rhythm it always has. Marking the times by not being changed by the passage of time. Mixing talent with luck. Elevating heroes and fitting others with goat horns.

THE CROWS BEAT THE BURNSIDE FREERANGERS 16-8

Little Routines and Deep Breaths

Without places to go and people to see—time has a way of flattening out. It’s important to create little spikes of nowness in your day. Little moments just because. To have some control over something. To fight a vague sense of dread with a specific burst of passion. Even if it’s just for five minutes. It’s important that we reclaim what we can. Reclaim what is ours. To be present and take back now.

Me, I reclaim my creativity with short writing and drawing breaks. I enter these with no goals in mind—no pressure. I just come to a blank page with a desire and willingness to create. That's what gets me going. I lay down some brushstrokes or colored pencil or start flowing sentences from my pen. Sometimes it leads somewhere else. Sometimes it completes itself. The victory lies in actually carving out the time. Reconnecting with your intentions. Taking back what matters to you. The things that make you breathe.



What are you doing to take back your now?

Saturday with the National Pastime in Japan

Time was when baseball was the American pastime. It may still be in name, but recently football and basketball have broken away to the top of the American psyche. Baseball is still a major sport, but it no longer holds the urgent, most relevant place in the nation’s heart.

Hop the Pacific Ocean to Japan. Here, baseball has deep roots and a culture unto its own. The major leagues see the fruits of Japan’s baseball culture with the yearly all-world exports that come to America. The culture that is spawning these talented ballplayers runs deep. It’s baseball, but it’s also not an exact copy of the American version. It’s not even called baseball for starters. It’s YAKYU. It has its own rhythm, tradition and strict belief system born out of the Japanese spirit.

Japan has made the game of baseball their own. Transforming it into its national sport on its terms.

Baseball is everywhere. Walk down the streets any day of the week and you’ll notice packs of young ballplayers, in full uniform and helmets traveling around like rabid baseball gangs. With bat bags and gear in tow, they travel in full team packs. They head to and from practice. They stop and take shadow cuts in the alleys. They worship the game. A visual reminder of how pervasive the game is.

On the subways, people of all ages wear the hats of their favorite Japanese league teams. Young school kids hang stuffed team mascots from their backpacks. On game day, people will fully gear up in uniform, hat, holding tenants or plastic team bats. More baseball worship throughout the city.

On Saturdays, working men and women turn out to the local ballparks, in full uniform, to play the game. Here they use a rubber ball and sometimes play double or triple headers. These fully uniformed men and women, looking like pros, glide by on their bikes or scooters, racing to assemble at the fields. Many of them play for corporate, company sponsored teams. They play other companies. Coming together over baseball.

Locals stand and populate the bleachers, watching the hyper local leagues play their games. The talent level is amateur, but it’s full on baseball. Minus the hardball. But they keep at it, weekend after weekend. Holding onto the game in their way. Going through the routines. Swinging bats and limbering up before the game. Watching the previous game finish up. Communing with the gods of baseball. Or Yakyu rather.

In summer, the nation turns its psyche towards Koshien—the all Japan high school baseball tournament that dominates all media. Stars here become legends that endure for decades. Baseball in Japan rewards its followers with immortality.

As I pass by these Saturday games and observe them from the outside of the fence, I tip my cap to their diligent diamond worship. In a country where sport doesn’t hold the same cultural significance as it does in the west, there is something deeply significant with Japan’s connection to baseball. The inspiration and nostalgia moves me. All hail the national pastime. To Yakyu, the vehicle which transports the Japanese spirit. And every weekend, it gains a head of steam, rounds third and heads for home.

How to Make a DIY Feather Quill Pen

Last weekend we went out to the nearby park hunting for giant crow feathers. The crows of Tokyo are legendary beasts like something flying straight out of the dark recesses of Edgar Allan Poe’s mind. Their fallen feathers became the object of our pursuit, to capture and then hand craft into DIY feather quill pens. I think Poe would approve of the literary nature of our mission.

Once we had secured the best specimens we could find, we took them home and washed them off in the sink. Next, we boiled them for 15 minutes to sterilize and make sure anything that had been living inside, no longer was. Then we let them dry out in front of a fan for several hours until they were fully dried out through and through.

With the feathers dried out, it was time to begin crafting the quills down to precise tips. The first step was to shave off the excess strands at the base of the feather. You want to leave a smooth length of of quill for your fingers to grip the pen. Then it’s time to start crafting the nib. Clip the end of the feather diagonally, leaving a fresh, sharp point at the end of each. With a fine blade, continue to cut shave off bits of the shaft and start streamlining the the point. Then it’s time to engineer a little space to store ink by cutting a slit right down the middle of the point and extending about a centimeter. This channel will hold the ink after each dip.

After carving out seven nib variations, it was time to put the newly crafted feather quill pens to the test. We got out our newly purchased bottle of ink and the finest test paper within an arm’s reach. Our family got to dipping and writing and drawing. Seeing how long the ink could last on a single dip. Testing out different amounts of pressure. Seeing what happened when the end split and you started getting two fine lines.

We soon found that each nib came with its own personality. Some flowed smoothly and freely, as if they had been professionally made. Others produced a scattered, frenetic line that kept you guessing. No matter which pen we tested, it was still an enjoyable sensation. Moving the bird feather across the blank page and leaving an indelible mark of your own.

Here are a few of the scratch pad results of our initial ink test:

Paranoid Music Box: Thom Yorke's ANIMA Album Reviewed

Thom Yorke’s latest solo offering, ANIMA, sounds like the personal sequel album to Radiohead’s shock and awe masterpiece, Kid A.

Kid A was the national anthem that radically broke the music industry with it’s bold departure. It created a seismic shift that reframed the narrative of not only Radiohead, but it was the singular popular music album that signaled the end of rock and roll as we knew it. It burned the guitars and familiar drum textures in the dumpster out back, and replaced the familiar sonic palette with bloops and bleeps. With cut and paste lyrics that turned humanity into a machine and twisted it so far that the humanity and intention came back out through the speakers. It was a brilliant effort of smoke and mirrors piping directly into our collective ears. Minds were melted. A statement was made. 

And it’s one of the last “rock” albums we all definitely point to. The last hurrah before Napster, before streaming, before we had a million songs in our pocket. Before Steve Jobs changed the world. Kid A was a record of intent of a certain time and place. A shared space.

If Kid A was meant to ironically dominate stadiums filled to max capacity, ANIMA is the same artist, and longtime producer Nigel Godrich, working from hotel rooms and basement studios, intended to go directly and personally out to each of us. Through headphones. Starting intimate conversations and picking up threads. Weaving shared textures.

Call it chill-paranoia. A cousin of the paranoid-android sci-fi branch of rock pioneered by Yorke and Radiohead bandmates. Here, the discomfort in our modern times comes even closer to home. In paired down, minimally backed electronic tracks, Yorke croons and meanders in melodic and sedated tones. He sings of regret, disconnection and the fragility of our so-called shared experience. His lines, sharply written as ever, elucidating truths that we all feel but maybe haven’t articulated for ourselves. Yet when Yorke pulls his lines through the gentle ecosystem of beats and loops, the sentiment hits home.

ANIMA is filled with dream imagery. Upon first listen, it has the sensation of someone waking up from a dream and being forced to deal with a startling new reality. Slowly observing and then reckoning the change in atmosphere from a lost time.

The album’s opening track Traffic, crystalizes this awakening with tonal clarity. The track pulses in as Yorke’s disembodied voice calls out “Yeah.” The first command comes “Submit” followed by “Submerged.” Then comes world play with “Nobody and No body” an incantation to the avatar filled world we anonymously find ourselves drifting through—submerged. We then move immediately into a crystal clear thesis “It’s not good. It’s not right.” And then two more bits of stark imagery “A mirror. A sponge.” In this shattered poetry, Yorke establishes the setting and atmosphere. 90 seconds in, the characters have emerged. 

But then comes a line that straddles hope and irony “But you’re freeeeeeeeee,” Yorke lilts, letting the last syllable roll out and come undone as a chorus of machine-like applause rings out. The bass doubles down.

From here its terse verses and turns of phrase roasting elitist pigs, or apparently “zombies” now. Yorke muses on as the beat sustains. It’s all very dystopian—what else could it be—but there is also a brightness that coarses through the album. It’s as though, three albums into a “side-project” solo career, Yorke has found a sense of mission. A clarity of purpose.

On ANIMA, Yorke and Godrich paint from the same palette they’ve been using since Kid A, however there is a refinement and sophistication here. It suggests that perhaps this is not so much a side project, as it is a alternate project, or a legitimate Thom Yorke vehicle. Worthy of attention, not just as a restless oddity from a creative soul, but as a document of admiration in its own right.

- - - -

Below Thom Yorke discusses ANIMA and how his creative process has evolved over the years:

Sound On

Boy band billboard drive by.

Blaring auto-tuned lemon drops of pop.

Spreading over-produced white noise.

Look at all them leather-clad pretty boys.

Angst over nothingness.

Sales over somethingness.

Bleaching all taste from the streets.

Preaching mediocrity with all the right beats.

You already know what the music video looks like.

Pushing every pixel further out from life.

Same retouched photos of the immediate cute.

Putting synths on blast.

Critical thinking on mute.

Stretching expectations and pin ‘em on a backpack.

Instagramming them to a hashtag laugh track.

Look at the art-directed bad boy glares.

Frosted-tip, mean-mug stares.

Get lost in the artificial sheen.

Who cares if we ever know what they mean.

Read the lyric sheets and grow your knowledge.

Hang around at the uni ten years after college.

Street snaps over street smarts.

Thumbs up and glitter hearts.

Nice sample, who cares where it comes from.

And just like that, the billboard’s gone.

As the next one rolls in.

Next verse, same as the first.

Wash it away with the fat straw bubble tea.

As you wait in this line for two times eternity.

-o.m/

Commute

Stumbling home.

By vending machine’s light.

Vision blurred and mind slurred.

Power-walking someone else’s steps.

Neon high of elevated window lives.

Laughing at the little shadow.

With the backpack and lost time to find.

Winding Down Game of Thrones

Ending Game of Thrones in a way that left all fans emotionally satisfied was always going to be a difficult task. With such a novelistic, open-world approach to story telling, finding the right combination of characters to bring closure to through the right combination of decisions is a 70 odd episode Rubix Cube. Everyone had their own favorite character and passionately demanded either an “epic death” or a role of significance in the final moments. Tying up the loose ends of every last character is more likely possible in a 3000-plus page novel, than in a 6-episode work of prestige television.

I thought the ending “worked.” A couple of nitpicks were that some elements felt rushed and there was no final second twist on par with the infamous Red Wedding episode. The series had trained us to anticipate grisly mis-directions. The ending felt more like a gradual winding down of a finely calibrated clock tower. We got to witness the confrontation the entire series had been leading to between Jon Snow and Daenerys. It may have been a little telegraphed, but there was enough nuance in the performance to portray the complexity and conflict around Jon’s decision. And I liked the iconic gesture of burning down the very symbol of the show itself in the final moments.

Bran on the throne felt like a fair enough move character wise. He was a victim with no real bad blood between any of the major characters. He was a safe choice. His appointment does leave a lot to the imagination to figure out how he will rule. By love or fear? I wonder how he will flex his ruling muscles when the people under him refuse his orders.

We’ve heard that Game of Thrones prequels are in the works, but it seems clear that sequels focusing on the new adventures of the Stark children is another chapter (or series of books) to explore. As with most great shows, the best seasons probably lie somewhere in the middle of the series. During a time when nothing needed to be wrapped into a tidy bow, and the conflict and threat of future retribution was at most tense and dramatic levels. Time will tell how the series ages, but I think the creators found a satisfactory ending to a monumental task for a scripted television show.

The Mamba Mentality Reviewed

I just finished reading Kobe Bryant’s first book, The Mamba Mentality: How I Play. In which he basically cements the late career caricature of Kobe Bryant that fans of the game know and expect by this point. These are the musings of Kobe Bryant as some kind of basketball playing Chuck Norris meme. Talking in the first person to make it feel conversational, but still having the egotism of an athlete speaking in the third person. The Mamba Mentality is basically the Nike #KobeSystem commercial, adapted into an ebook. It’s a funny schtick and vehicle for trash talk, but you know there is something deep and insightful lurking under the surface.

Where you want to find something revelatory, you are presented with vignetted takes that feel like rushed off afterthoughts between movie viewings on a long international flight. It’s like if Seth Godin wrote about basketball. The first half of the book speaks in recycled locker room talk that anyone who played high school sports will be well familiar with. It’s the rah-rah fare of “give your blood, sweat and tears to the game and the game will give back to you.” Where you are hoping for a deep cut or a behind closed doors anecdote of a private chat with Phil Jackson, you get a rearranged version of something your high school jayvee coach told you.

The most interesting part of the book is the second half which focuses on Kobe’s discussion of “his craft.” Core NBA fans will be familiar with most of Kobe’s inspiration and thoughts on his competition, but it’s still enjoyable to hear the specifics of how he approached particular matchups. He riffs on the career arcs of KD, LeBron, James Harden and others who came up behind him. There are some solid bits in their about how he led Team USA to gold medal glory.

The Shaq-Kobe “feud” is presented the way it’s been told ever since the two publicly reconciled a few years ago. Kobe goes on about how the “beef” was fabricated by Shaq and himself to keep the other players on edge and carry their weight. I always felt the alleged rift was more Hollywood fiction than the media presented it as. They were just too good and dominate together to believe that they would actually be warring. Needless to say, there is no shade thrown at Shaq.

The best anecdote for me was when he was discussing infamous and self-proclaimed “Kobe-stopper” Ruben Patterson. Of course he called out the red flag waving nature of Patterson’s claim, but he offered up an interesting counter. Kobe confessed that Patterson was making the claim in order to drive up his contract value heading into free-agency. Kobe said had Patterson approached Kobe privately and asked for him to make a statement along the lines of “Ruben is the best defender in the NBA,” he would have done it. However, Patterson’s mistake was in taking his “Kobe-stopper” moniker to the press before consulting Kobe. Hence the Mamba was intent on destroying him. That story alone probably adds the most nuance to the true psychology of the Mamba mentality. It’s a little bit Godfather and a lot of parts Kill Bill. Kobe wants to be remembered as the “thinking assassin.” Einstein with a silencer.

The books closing seconds feel rushed off. Kobe attempts a pivot and shot at the buzzer by hoisting the notion that his life and career in basketball was all one long runner to his future as a storyteller and writer. He holds his Oscar in the air, still obsessed with trophies and tells the world that he will bring the Mamba Mentality to his storytelling.

There is something overcompensating about Kobe’s whole late career bravado. His insistence on building up his own legend. His highlights, stats and championships speak for themselves. Perhaps it’s just his competitive spirit thirsting to campaign and win over the remaining doubters. Maybe it’s his reaction to the social media era of sports and especially the NBA now, where all the stars are living brands, crafting their own narratives at the height of their powers. It will be interesting to follow Kobe deeper into his post-NBA life. I can’t help but feel there is something fueling this Mamba Mentality that maybe Kobe himself doesn’t even understand yet. I hope he keeps trying to define it.

Top athletes have never been great at framing up and putting their mentality into perspective beyond the cliches. So here is my challenge to Kobe the storyteller: Tell us something we don’t know. Tell us something that only you could tell us. Find your voice beyond the meme. It was a pretty funny character and we all appreciated it. I know your competitive spirit will keep haunting and driving you. I hope it drives you to write something that surprises you. And scares you even. And when that day comes, I hope you will dare to expose that truth to the rest of us.

You’re welcome.