About
“No. I said, what kind of bird are you?” Sam Shakusky directs this line pointedly at Suzy Bishop, draped in her middle school–quality raven costume. The question from the film Moonrise Kingdom pops into my head unexpectedly but often. What kind of bird are you?
I have bought three cars in my life. I have seen the Taj Mahal twice. I was born 73 days after Elvis died. Whose death were you born 73 days after? You probably don’t know. But that’s a data point that nudges, even if imperceptibly, against your identity — one of countless calculations that quietly make you you.
Through some lens we are all a bird. Through the lens of calculation, we have infinite relationships to unknown things.