Intrigued by the transformation of the teddy bear from a fearsome symbol to a childhood comforter? Curious about how a former chef found solace in drawing thousands of tiny circles? Ever wondered about the history and cultural significance of the QWERTY keyboard or how roadside attractions can reflect the spirit of collective effort? Dive into the collection of essays reviewing facets of human life and our intersection with history, technology and art.

The Anthropocene Reviewed

After launching his novel "Turtles All the Way Down" in October 2017, John Green, the author, returned home to Indianapolis and built a literal path between his children's treehouse and his office, clearing invasive honeysuckle and ivy for ten hours a day. A month later, he finished this 58-second walk. Soon after, a bout of labyrinthitis, a severe inner ear condition, left him bedridden, contemplating life and his identity as both a public figure and a person with mental illness.

Green's journey as a writer began in 2000 when he worked as a student chaplain and then as a typist before landing a job at Booklist magazine. There, he reviewed hundreds of books in 175-word snippets, a format that communicated more than a five-star rating ever could. These experiences shaped his views on the five-star scale, which has proliferated in our digital age, rating everything from books to public restrooms.

In 2017, amid discussions with his brother Hank about absurd Google reviews, the idea for the book, "The Anthropocene Reviewed" was born. Inspired by the late author Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s advice to "pay attention to what you pay attention to," Green began writing reviews of human experiences and phenomena, including Diet Dr. Pepper and Canada geese.

Maurice Sendak once said, "I’m finding out as I’m aging that I’m in love with the world." This resonated deeply as Green recovered from labyrinthitis and started to appreciate life's nuances anew. This led him to review the song "You’ll Never Walk Alone," a Liverpool FC anthem that embodies unity and perseverance, and has been a source of comfort during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Reflecting on cosmic phenomena, Green recalled his awe at seeing Halley’s Comet in 1986, a moment shared with his father that highlighted their fleeting existence in the grand scheme of things. This cosmic marvel returns every 76 years, offering a perspective that transcends our everyday worries.

Lastly, Green revisited The Great Gatsby, a novel that critiques the American Dream while seducing readers with its rhythmic prose. Despite initial poor reviews, it found success posthumously, becoming a staple in American literature and a reflection on our capacity for wonder and excess.

In these reflections, Green attempts to embrace the world’s complexities, finding beauty and meaning in the mundane and the magnificent alike. As Maurice Sendak advised, "Live your life," and so, Green strives to do just that.

Can John Green Find Beauty in the Mundane and the Magnificent Alike?

If you've ever been around young children, you've likely seen those charming hand stencils they make. Both of Green's kids created their first pieces of art by tracing their tiny hands on paper. Green still recalls his son's amazement when he lifted his hand to see its outline on the paper—an early imprint of his existence. Those little handprints spark a bittersweet joy in Green, reminding him of how they're growing up and gradually away from him.

The fascination with handprints isn't just a modern phenomenon. In 1940, an 18-year-old mechanic named Marcel Ravidat stumbled upon a prehistoric treasure in the French countryside when his dog, Robot, disappeared down a hole. Marcel, along with three friends—Georges Agniel, Jacques Marsal, and Simon Coencas—discovered the Lascaux cave, adorned with over 900 vivid animal paintings, dating back at least 17,000 years. The flickering oil lamps made the images appear to move, captivating the boys.

Simon Coencas, fleeing Nazi occupation, later moved to Paris but was betrayed, leading to the tragic loss of his parents. Simon survived in hiding, only reuniting with his Lascaux friends 46 years later. Marcel and Jacques, profoundly moved by their discovery, camped outside the cave to protect it until a reinforced door was installed. They later joined the French Resistance during World War II.

The French government eventually took over the cave, opening it to the public in 1948. When Picasso visited, he famously remarked, "We have invented nothing." The cave, though small, houses nearly 2,000 paintings, including enigmatic abstract symbols whose meanings remain a mystery.

Among these artworks are "negative hand stencils," created by blowing pigment around a hand pressed against the wall. These stencils, found worldwide, connect us to our ancient ancestors, whose lives, though harsh, echoed our own humanity. They remind us that art has always been an intrinsic part of human life, a non-optional expression of our existence.

The Lascaux cave, now closed to protect its ancient art from modern human damage, serves as a poignant metaphor for the past—something beautiful and untouchable. We can visit replicas, but they are merely shadows of the real thing. Yet, the story of four kids and a dog discovering this prehistoric wonder fills Green with hope. It shows our respect for preserving the past, even if it means sealing it off from ourselves. The cave paintings at Lascaux exist, but like the past they represent, they remain out of reach, a memory Green cherishes but cannot relive.

Unearthing History: The Timeless Connection of Lascaux Cave Art and Humanity

1. The Bear and Its Names:
The word "bear" comes from a Germanic root, bero, meaning “the brown one.” In Scandinavian languages, the term means “honey eaters.” Linguists believe these terms were substitutes since speaking the bear’s true name was taboo, akin to saying “Voldemort” in Harry Potter. 

Despite our historical fear, humans have always been a greater threat to bears, evident in the brutal practice of bearbaiting. Shakespeare's reference in "Macbeth" to bears fighting "the course" highlights this cruelty. Over time, the mighty bear has transformed in our collective imagination into the cuddly teddy bear, a symbol of compassion inspired by a story involving U.S. President Teddy Roosevelt. Yet, the real bear population, like those in Mississippi, continues to dwindle.

2. Disney World and the Hall of Presidents:
Next, growing up near Walt Disney World, Green initially loved the park but grew to disdain its artificiality as a teenager. Frequent visits due to his mother's award-winning community service only deepened his contempt. His refuge became the Hall of Presidents, where he began writing stories. The Hall, with its animatronic presidents, celebrates a sanitized version of American history, ignoring the complexities and darker aspects. 

Both Disney and America rely on collective belief in their ideals, much like magic kingdoms. As a teen, Green questioned these constructs, but now he seeks better systems rather than abandoning them. Disney's portrayal of history remains overly optimistic, earning it two stars from Green.

3. Air-Conditioning and Human Comfort:
Air-conditioning revolutionized human life, especially in hot climates. Phoenix, Arizona, exemplifies this shift, growing from a small town to a major city due to AC's ability to control indoor temperatures. AC has made life more comfortable but also contributes to climate change by increasing fossil fuel use. 

The technology has widened the gap between rich and poor, as those in wealthier regions benefit more. Office temperatures, often set to suit men in suits, reduce productivity and are another example of how AC preferences can be biased. We must redefine climate control, making AC more sustainable. Despite its drawbacks, Green gives air-conditioning three stars.

4. The History and Impact of Staphylococcus:
Staphylococcus aureus has been a deadly bacteria throughout history. Scottish surgeon Alexander Ogston discovered it in the late 19th century, naming it after its grape-like clusters. The introduction of antiseptics by Joseph Lister significantly reduced surgical infections. 

However, it wasn't until Alexander Fleming's accidental discovery of penicillin in 1928 that staph infections became treatable. Even then, antibiotic resistance developed quickly, with penicillin losing efficacy against staph by the mid-20th century. Today, antibiotic resistance remains a significant challenge, with many still dying from staph infections. Despite its persistence, Staphylococcus aureus receives one star from Green.

Four Essays on Bears, Disney, AC and Deadly Bacteria?

In the early 1990s, the internet was a mysterious box filled with green letters on a black screen. Green's dad was thrilled by its potential, proudly showing them how to check the weather in Beijing or download Socratic dialogues. Green's teenage self, however, found it more of an inconvenience, especially since it tied up the phone line.

That changed when Green discovered the CompuServe Teen Forum. In this virtual refuge, Green could interact with others without the awkwardness of their real-life persona. One evening, Green shared the “night feeling” with their forum friend Marie, a term for their nightly anxiety. She understood and suggested listening to the radio, a comfort that genuinely helped Green.

As Green spent more time online, he became fascinated with ASCII art, creating intricate text-based images. This online world became a haven for Green, especially during the summer when they moderated the forum, earning free internet access—a dream come true.

At school, Green's friend Todd saw potential in Green's poor grades and convinced him to join the Academic Decathlon. His patient tutoring transformed Green into a top C-student competitor, winning several medals and boosting their confidence. They even made it to the nationals in Newark, an experience tied to the memory of sitting by a creek where Todd admired rivers for their relentless flow—a metaphor that still resonates with Green.

In April 2020, overwhelmed by the pandemic and e-learning with their kids, Green found solace by a river in Indianapolis. The flowing water became a reminder of continuity amidst chaos, much like the sunsets that never fail to awe them. Their clichéd beauty doesn't need a metaphor; sometimes, they are just enough.

Reflecting on vulnerability, Green remembers their dog Willy, who would expose his belly in complete trust. This act of openness is something Green struggles with, often hiding behind cynicism. Yet, embracing vulnerability is essential to truly experience the beauty around us.

Green also thinks of Jerzy Dudek, the Polish coal miner’s son who became a legendary goalkeeper for Liverpool. In 2005, during the Champions League final, Dudek, urged by teammate Jamie Carragher, broke his usual routine and employed “spaghetti legs” to save crucial penalties, leading Liverpool to victory. His story reminds Green that unexpected moments can bring extraordinary outcomes.

Lastly, the story of Piggly Wiggly founder Clarence Saunders epitomizes the relentless drive for innovation. His self-service grocery store revolutionized shopping, though it also led to job losses, including for Green's great-grandfather. Saunders’s ambition and subsequent failures highlight the relentless cycle of capitalism, where the big consume the small, echoing the fate of many businesses today.

In all these stories, whether technological wonder, academic triumph, or business innovation, there's a thread of transformation and resilience—elements that continue to shape Green's life in profound ways.

From ASCII Art to Academic Decathlons: A Journey of Transformation and Resilience

At the corner of Surf and Stillwell Avenues in Brooklyn’s Coney Island stands Nathan’s Famous, a restaurant started in 1916 by Polish immigrants Nathan and Ida Handwerker. Known primarily for its hot dogs, Nathan’s has hosted many famous guests, including King George VI and Jacqueline Kennedy. 

The experience of eating a Nathan’s hot dog amid the clamor of Coney Island is unique, especially during the annual Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest on July 4th. This event, characterized by the spectacle of contestants devouring hot dogs in ten minutes, speaks volumes about American culture. 

The contest’s origins are shrouded in myth, with PR man Mortimer Matz claiming it began in 1916, though it truly started in 1967. The competition gained significant attention in 1991 when George Shea, a former English major turned hype man, began his grandiloquent introductions. 

Shea’s dramatic and humorous speeches, such as describing an eater as "Hercules himself," have become a highlight of the event. Yet, the contest isn’t without controversy. When American Joey Chestnut defeated Japanese champion Takeru Kobayashi in 2007, the crowd's reaction turned xenophobic, demonstrating the power of words to incite emotions.

In another corner of American culture, CNN, the first 24-hour news network launched by Ted Turner in 1980, aimed to unite the world with its round-the-clock news coverage. However, CNN’s focus on breaking news rather than context often leaves viewers with a fragmented understanding of events. This was evident during the 2003 Iraq invasion, where superficial coverage overshadowed deeper historical insights. 

A poignant moment occurred when Hassan, a Kuwaiti living in Chicago, laughed at graffiti in Baghdad misinterpreted by CNN as anger but actually read, "Happy birthday, sir, despite the circumstances."

Next, the phenomenon of the yips, a sudden loss of fine motor skills in athletes, has affected many, including pitcher Rick Ankiel and tennis player Ana Ivanovic. Ankiel’s career as a pitcher ended abruptly due to the yips, but he reinvented himself as a successful outfielder, a rare feat in professional sports. Ivanovic, plagued by the yips while serving, redefined her game and made a remarkable comeback before retiring.

When it comes to hope, the movie "Harvey," featuring Jimmy Stewart as Elwood P. Dowd, whose best friend is an invisible rabbit, provided solace to many, including Green during a period of severe depression. The film’s message about choosing pleasantness over smartness offered hope and a new perspective on mental illness.

Amy Krouse Rosenthal, a writer and friend of Green, exemplified a blend of hope and realism in her works. Her memoir, "Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life," and interactive memoir, "Textbook Amy Krouse Rosenthal," reflected on the finite nature of life and the beauty of everyday moments. Amy’s death from cancer added a layer of poignancy to her writings, but her legacy of finding joy and meaning in life’s small moments endures.

The song "Auld Lang Syne," often sung on New Year's Eve, captures the essence of remembering and cherishing the past. Its lyrics, reflecting on old times and shared experiences, resonate deeply, especially in moments of reflection and transition. The story of Amy and the author singing the song together highlights its power to connect people across time and space.

From Nathan's Famous to CNN: What Do These American Icons Reveal About Our Culture?

As a youngster, Green's mother had always encouraged him with the notion that everyone has a unique gift. However, Green found himself feeling talentless, having failed at endeavors such as piano, karate, and ballet. His unique gift, it turned out, was googling strangers. Green dedicated countless hours to honing this unusual skill, researching attendees before parties, delving into their backgrounds, and often making for awkward, yet fascinating conversations.

Once, Green's knack for googling intersected profoundly with his past experience as a student chaplain at a children’s hospital. A traumatic night involving a severely burned three-year-old had haunted him for years. Even though he prayed for the child daily, he was too scared to google the boy's fate—until one day, he did. The relief of finding out that the child was alive and thriving reshaped Green's perspective on privacy and information.

In 2007, Green and his wife Sarah relocated to Indianapolis. The city, while flawed, also bore a surprising depth of community. Initially, Green detested the sprawling suburbs and mundane tasks like mowing the lawn. However, a neighbor opened his eyes to the rich diversity and hidden beauty of the area, making him see Indianapolis as a place where a stable, caring community could be built.

One tradition that encapsulates this community spirit is the Indianapolis 500. Though it may appear as just cars racing in circles, it actually brings people together in a unique way. The race day rituals, from early morning bike rides to camaraderie among fans, make it a cherished event.

Games such as Monopoly and Super Mario Kart hold reflections of deeper truths about life for Green. Monopoly, often perceived as a celebration of capitalism, originally critiques economic inequality, while Super Mario Kart, with its blend of skill and luck, mirrors the unpredictability of life and the structural advantages some people possess.

A memorable trip Green took with Sarah to the Bonneville Salt Flats underscored the importance of shared experiences. The vast, alien-like landscape served as a reminder that humans are not the center of the universe. It was moments like these, shared with Sarah, that Green found made life meaningful.

Through these experiences, Green discovered that whether it was googling strangers, getting through life's traumas, or finding joy in community and shared experiences, what truly mattered were the connections he built and the perspectives he gained.

Googling Strangers & Racing Cars: Unearthing Life's Meanings in Unlikely Places

One quirky thing about John Green is that he’s signed his name over 500,000 times. It all started in 2011 with his novel "The Fault in Our Stars". He signed 150,000 sheets of paper to be bound into the first print run. Alone in his basement, Green found solace in the repetitive action, a comfort linked to his obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). This compulsive signing is akin to doodling, which studies have shown can improve focus and relieve stress.

Green’s fascination with repetition extends to his admiration for Hiroyuki Doi, an artist who creates intricate drawings of thousands of tiny circles. Doi, a former chef, turned to drawing after his brother's death, finding relief in the obsessive act. These drawings resonate with Green, offering a visual metaphor for the endless circling thoughts and the consuming pain of loss.

In another instance, Green shares an anecdote about his constant worry over punctuality, a trait he dubs “Airport Alex.” One morning, while hurrying his daughter through breakfast, she whispered a secret to him, reminding him of the beauty of being present and the intimacy of quiet moments. Whispering, he notes, is an intimate act, revealing our breath and vulnerabilities.

Green also reflects on his struggle with viral meningitis. This illness brought him face-to-face with the inexpressible nature of pain, echoing Virginia Woolf's observation that illness has a poverty of language. Pain, Green argues, isolates us and defies communication, but perhaps forgetting pain is a necessary part of healing.

Pandemics, both historical and current, also fascinate Green. He draws parallels between the cholera outbreaks of the 19th century and today's COVID-19 pandemic, noting the repeated patterns of misinformation, blame, and the unequal toll on the poor. Yet, he also highlights moments of solidarity, like the united prayers of Damascus's diverse population during the Black Death.

Green believes that while pandemics are a one-star phenomenon, our responses can bring out the best in humanity. In times of crisis, true solidarity—shared hope and shared lamentation—is essential. Echoing the wisdom of his daughter, Green concludes that seasons change, and so will this moment. Together, we can endure.

Is John Green's Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder the Secret Behind his Creativity?

Kaveh Akbar once wrote, "It’s been January for months in both directions," a line that resonates deeply with Green as he gardens in the unforgiving Indianapolis winter. Gardening, recommended by Green's therapist, offered solace, but also a formidable foe: a rotund groundhog that has been his nemesis for eight years, devouring everything from soybeans to peppers. Green's attempts to deter her fail spectacularly, yet she gives him a sense of purpose.

Indianapolis winters are dominated by a "wintry mix"—a cocktail of sleet, snow, and rain that’s as unromantic as it sounds. It’s a Midwest hallmark, much like the pathetic fallacy where weather mirrors human emotions, as observed in works by Keats, Shakespeare, and Wordsworth. Despite its harshness, Green finds a strange beauty in the wintry mix; it’s a reminder that he’s home.

One memorable winter, Green thought of Wilson Bentley, the first to photograph snowflakes, calling them “tiny miracles of beauty.” But there’s nothing miraculous about being pelted by graupel. Yet, this weather, indifferent as it is, affects our emotions profoundly. It’s this nuanced relationship with nature that makes living here a unique experience.

In early 2020, life took a dramatic turn. The groundhog hibernated as the world braced for a pandemic. Gardening became Green's refuge, and he discovered a YouTube solution to his groundhog problem: planting a separate garden for her. This small act of coexistence underscored a larger truth—Green was not just made for Earth, but of it.

Years earlier, in the summer of 2008, Green's wife Sarah and he visited Iceland. The trip was filled with memorable moments, including an unexpected celebration when Iceland won its first Olympic medal in men’s handball. The streets of Reykjavík erupted in joy, and amidst the chaos, Green felt an unanticipated camaraderie with strangers.

Iceland’s charm extended to a humble hot dog stand, Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur. Despite the hype, the hot dog was extraordinary, lifting Green's spirits from a multiday hangover. It’s a five-star experience etched in his memory, much like the poignant notes he’s jotted down over the years in the iPhone Notes app. These notes, ranging from cryptic phrases to heartfelt observations, form a peculiar autobiography of his life.

Music, particularly from the band the Mountain Goats, has been a constant companion for Green. Their lyrics, penned by John Darnielle, have guided Green through various life stages. Songs like “This Year” and “International Small Arms Traffic Blues” resonate with his struggles and joys, offering both encouragement and companionship. The Mountain Goats have shaped Green's worldview, inspiring him to be a witness to the light in others.

In the end, it’s not just what we look at, but how we look and who we look with that matters. This perspective transforms even the harshest Indianapolis winter into something beautiful. And so, Green gives wintry mix, the Mountain Goats, and the moments of unexpected joy in life, five stars.

From Indianapolis Winters to Icelandic Hot Dogs: A Journey of Personal Growth and Connection

Ever wondered why your keyboard isn't arranged alphabetically? The quirky QWERTY layout dates back to typewriter mechanics and features an eclectic mix of contributors, including a Wisconsin politician named Christopher Sholes and even Thomas Edison. 

Sholes, initially motivated to create a machine to print page numbers, instead developed a typewriter, improving it with advice from friends and telegraph operators. Remington and Sons later commercialized it, giving us the QWERTY layout, which, despite attempts like the Dvorak Simplified Keyboard, remains our standard due to its efficiency and historical momentum.

Green's fascination with inventions traces back to a fifth-grade biography of Thomas Edison. Although Edison didn’t single-handedly invent the light bulb or motion picture camera, his collaborative spirit exemplifies human progress. This theme resonates with the development of the QWERTY keyboard—a product of collective ingenuity rather than individual genius.

Roadside attractions, like the world's largest ball of paint in Indiana, also reflect this collaborative spirit. Started by Mike Carmichael and his son, the ball has grown to over 26,000 layers thanks to contributions from thousands of visitors. This whimsical monument, much like art, is a testament to the beauty of collective effort. Green once sought solace in such attractions during a low point in his life, finding unexpected joy and hope in these communal creations.

Art, like the world's largest ball of paint, often involves many unsung contributions. As a child, Green saw art as the domain of solitary geniuses. Now, he realizes it’s more about adding layers to a collective masterpiece, as demonstrated by the ongoing evolution of the ball of paint.

Personal battles with depression often challenge Green's sense of meaning. The relentless "What's Even the Point" game can cloud his vision, making it hard to find purpose. Yet, moments of clarity—like a walk in the park with his children or the sheltering shade of a sycamore tree—remind him of life's inherent beauty and interconnectedness. These moments, and the stories we tell, are what make life worth living.

Photographs, such as August Sander's "Young Farmers," capture such fleeting moments. This image, showing three young men on their way to a dance in 1914, is layered with history and poignancy. Their confident poses belie the coming horrors of World War I, a reminder of the unforeseeable future that history holds.

Over the years, Green has come to see the genius in collective effort and the value in the simple act of believing—of holding dear to hope, even when it seems elusive. Whether through a keyboard layout, a roadside attraction, or a poignant photograph, our shared human experience is a tapestry of countless contributions, each adding its own unique thread.

Did Thomas Edison Contribute to the Creation of Your QWERTY Keyboard?

After publishing his novel in 2017, author John Green spent a month creating a walkway between his office and his children's treehouse. During this time, an inner ear condition left him bedridden, leading him to reflect on his life and identity. 

Green's writing career began in 2000, and his experiences heavily influenced his views on the five-star rating system prevalent today. An idea for a book reviewing human experiences was born in 2017 during discussions with his brother. Throughout his journey, Green learned to appreciate life's nuances and find beauty and meaning in both the mundane and the magnificent. 

Green's children's early handprint art reminded him of the prehistoric hand stencils discovered in the Lascaux cave in 1940. The cave's ancient art, now closed off to the public to prevent damage, serves as a metaphor for the past. The cave's existence, though inaccessible, is a memory cherished by Green. 

Green's fascination with historical and current pandemics has led him to observe patterns of misinformation, blame, and inequality. He also highlights moments of solidarity, such as diverse populations praying together during the Black Death. Green believes that while pandemics are a devastating phenomenon, they can bring out the best in humanity. 

Green's experiences and struggles with mental health, his love for music and art, and his encounters with various inventions and roadside attractions have all shaped his worldview. Despite his battles with depression, moments of clarity and joy remind him of life's inherent beauty and interconnectedness. Green sees collective effort and the simple act of believing as crucial to our shared human experience.

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