I don’t know if it’s that everyone pretty much agrees by now that the apocalypse is definitely about to happen (or maybe is currently happening) or if it’s that Facebook seems to have reached a critical point of having 98% of all humans you know on it, but now we can all feel that special kind of isolation that comes from seeing pictures of a wedding you weren’t invited to — or two people you only sort of know, glowing healthily at the top of some fantastic mountain they just climbed. I’ve been asking around though, and I’m reporting this to you now: The Age of Irony is officially over and a new era, one mainly defined by the deep desire to honestly connect with someone before it’s too late, The Age of Earnestness, has begun.
I know Time called this back in 2001, but that must have been some sort of post-9/11 grandstanding because in-between then and now we’ve seen the sitcom Arrested Development, Dave Egger’s second novel You Shall Know Our Velocity, The Decemberists‘ first five albums and the film Adaptation — all awesome, relevant, popular and totally ironic.
Now however — even though Osama bin Laden is finally dead — we’re still in two or three wars, there’s an environmental crisis every week and nobody remembers how to fall in love outside of the Internet. And it turns out everyone is finally getting sick of all their stories being filtered through a lens of hipness with all the feelings couched in inside jokes.
Luckily for San Francisco, the literary scene feels the exact same way.
Isaac Fitzgerald, managing editor of TheRumpus puts it this way: “One of the most important reasons to write, to make art, to make music, to be an artist of any sort, is to connect. To show others, ‘I too have felt this way, share it with me.’ If you try and connect with anyone in a way that is not earnest, it isn’t a connection. It’s a con. It’s a mask.”