Montparnasse is an area in the South of Paris. It became famous in the 1920s and the 1930s as the heart of intellectual and artistic life in Paris. This is where painters like Picasso, Matisse, and Chagall would hang out and find their inspirations, where such literary giants as D.H. Lawrence, James Joyce and F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote their famous works, where the creative bohemians lived along with political exiles to debate with their intellect and also to get drunk and have sex. The French filmmaker Fernand Léger wrote of that period: "man…relaxes and recaptures his taste for life, his frenzy to dance…an explosion of life-force fills the world."
I’ve always dreamed of living in an environment like Montparnasse – appropriately named after "Mount Parnassus", home to the nine Muses of arts and sciences in Greek mythology. How incredibly stimulating and invigorating that would be if I can tap into the minds of the best and brightest in the world!
That is, of course, a romanticized view of the Golden Age of creativity. Today’s Montparnasse, while still maintaining the flair of an artistic center, is more of a tourist attraction than an intellectual hub. In my trip to Paris almost twenty years ago, I visited Café du Dome, renowned as a gathering place for famous American intellects. I remember sitting by the sidewalk sipping coffee trying to imagine Henry Miller or Hemingway sitting at the same table almost a hundred years ago – no reminiscence emerged miraculously.
You might argue the 21st century version of Montparnasse is the Silicon Valley, where the most innovative ideas are born and nurtured. That might be true, but the idea of hanging out with a bunch of nerds just seems less fun than living sinfully with artists and writers. Plus, the Bay Area is too expensive. So I have never been tempted to move north. I enjoy living in the sunny, chillaxed Southern California immensely, although part of me keeps craving for that intellectual immersion, of being right in the middle of action.
Interestingly, the solution came, in the least expected way. Having been trapped inside the house during Covid, I’ve discovered the magic of podcasts. It’s such an intimate medium that listening to these interviews, I feel I am literally sitting right next to some of the most interesting people in the world chatting with them over a cup of coffee and even better, as there are no awkward small talks or embarrassing questions. Rather, some of the great interviewers can put their subjects at ease (no video really helps), and dig in with very provocative questions.
One of my favorites is the Tim Ferriss Show. A Polymath himself, Tim Ferriss has a knack for deconstructing complex processes into tangible tools and tactics that seem digestible and actionable. His guests are an eclectic bunch, ranging from entrepreneurs to comedians like Jerry Seinfeld to bloggers and writers, to psychologists to athletes. With boundless curiosity and fearlessness, Tim can bring some of the most abstract ideas to life. In one of the episodes, Tim interviewed Richard Schwartz, professor at the department of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, to talk about IFS (Internal Family Systems) as a form of psychotherapy to treat trauma. In order to illustrate the concept, Tim volunteered to be the patient and together they acted out a therapy session. As someone who has always been curious about therapy but never really experienced it, I was mesmerized by how the “self” can be separated into different parts and with the guidance of a therapist certain part or version of the “self” can time travel into the past, act as the observer and show compassion to the other part that was hurt and traumatized, thereby bringing comfort and healing of the present to the painful past, gradually changing the imprint of these old wounds on our brain. It was absolutely fascinating.
Another favorite is Making Sense with Sam Harris. I first discovered Sam Harris by stumbling upon a YouTube video on his debate with Deepak Chopra ten years ago. I was completely intrigued before watching the debate, as it was named “Does God have a Future?” and it was between a neuroscientist atheist and a New Age Indian doctor and guru, and it takes place in Caltech, an institution renowned for its physicists and scientists, but located in the US, a highly religious country. I have to say watching the debate literally gave me an intellectual orgasm. Regardless of what your beliefs are, you have to marvel at Sam Harris’ clarity of thinking and his superior ability to frame the scope of the debate and articulate his points with precision. Just listen to his opening speech –
“If we talk about consciousness and the laws of nature, we won’t be talking about the God that most of our neighbors believe in, which is a personal god, who hears our prayers and occasionally answers them…
The God that our neighbors believe in is essentially an invisible person. It’s a creator deity, who created the universe to have a relationship with one species of primate. Lucky us!
He’s got galaxy upon galaxy to attend to but he’s especially concerned with what we do, and he’s especially concerned with what we do while naked. He most certainly does not approve of homosexuality. And he has created this cosmos as a vast laboratory in which to test our powers of credulity. And the test is this: Can you believe in this God on bad evidence, which is to say on faith. And if you can you will win an eternity of happiness after you die.”
I was in love with Sam Harris’ brain! So I was thrilled when I found his podcast. Unlike many other podcasts which primarily involve interviews, the Sam Harris podcast is mostly his monologues, his rumination about the current events. He does invite guests when he needs help thinking through an issue. It’s absolutely delightful to be able to get a dose of “Sam Harris” a few times a week, because in this highly sensitive world of political correctness, he is the only warrior who can talk about contentious topics like racism with such nuance and intellectual honesty. He does not shy away from controversy (for which he pays a hefty price – he has to live in an undisclosed location for fear of safety). The need for intellectual integrity makes him the only voice of sanity. In fact, whenever I feel frustrated at work, I would turn to the Sam Harris podcast at the end of the day – it has the calming effect of listening to teachings from a savant. It gets me connected to my frontal lobe. It gets me centered.
Finally, an unexpected find: Armchair with Dax Sherpard. You may have seen Dax Sherpard in some stupid comedies like Without a Paddle or Employee of the Month, but Dax turns out to be anything but stupid. Along with his co-host Monica Padman (a nanny turned into a writer and co-host, which in itself is an interesting story), Dax produces two episodes every week, one with a celebrity and the other with an expert. I’m usually more interested in the expert episodes, but I find his interviews with celebrities like Hilary Clinton refreshing and endearing. Growing up in a lower middle class in Kentucky, Dax seems very much down-to-earth compared to other Hollywood celebrities. He is very open about his struggles with substance abuse and shares his vulnerabilities with a humbleness and genuineness which have been embraced by his guests with reciprocity. Listening to his podcasts makes me appreciate every human being, no matter how accomplished he or she is, has issues to deal with and mountains to climb. The humanity in us all makes me feel more connected to the rest of the world.
Other interesting podcasts include: The Happiness Lab with Dr. Laurie Santos, who teaches this most popular class in Yale; The DarkHorse with Bret Weinstein, a biologist who examines nature and science through the “evolutionary lens”; and That Will Never Work, with the Netflix co-founder Marc Randolph, giving advice to entrepreneurs… the list goes on and on. I’m constantly amazed by just how much creative content is out there and how easy it is for me to access it all.
Probably the best yet is Clubhouse, a voice-only, iPhone-only, invite-only social networking app that is the hottest ticket in town these days. Thanks to my dear high school classmate, I had the privilege of being invited into this exclusive club, as one of the 2.6 million Americans and 8 million people in the entire world as of this week. Although the features and functions are still limited, I can already see its enormous potential. Just scrolling down the “hallway”, a term used in Clubhouse to show the different rooms or scheduled virtual events, I am overwhelmed by the choices in front of me: cryptocurrencies and latest fintech trends, the future of biohacking and mindfulness, Asians in Hollywood… all talks happening at the same time, all with hundreds and thousands of attendees. And what about the bios of the speakers and attendees, which are supposed to be just a few lines, but jeez, what a few lines they are – “Executive turned VC backed Founder & CEO, Culture Addict, Gaming Guru, Activist & Change Agent…” (5M followers on Clubhouse) “Former Child… Culturally confused Chinese German Ukrainian Jew from Hawaii with eternal Futterneid and a 塞翁失马 outlook” (1.7M followers. Futterneid means local in German). “Wrangler of misfits. Most often found running your boardroom or favorite nightclubs.” (1.9M followers). And of course there are Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, Katie Couric, who need no introduction and therefore no bios. The fact that you can hop into any room with such intellectual brain power and get connected to these people is mind-blowing.
I may be late to the game, but under the most unexpected circumstances during the global pandemic, I have been pulled into the world’s audio revolution. With the flourishing of podcasting, audio conferencing, and voice social networking, access to the world’s best and brightest ideas and people is no longer restricted to the cafes in Paris. It has been democratized so I can connect to that collective brainpower of humanity in the comfort of my home with a glass of wine in hand or on my daily walks in the neighborhood. My Montparnasse is that little device called iPhone.
