Computers are binary. Everything we see on a screen, from a Hollywood movie to a text message to the period at the end of this sentence, is broken down into a chain of 0s and 1s. Those are the choices. On or off. Yes or no. There is no 0.5. There is no "maybe."
All too often people can be binary, too, thanks to tens of thousands of years of Darwinian survival conditioning. Fight or flight? Friend or foe? Nuance is a fairly modern concept and gets lost on a lot of folks. They like "God commands this!" They aren't comfortable with, "Here are your options. Choose four."
Take history. Whole swaths of the country seem to believe our nation is either "great," that is, a perfect place that has never done wrong, or sunk in "carnage" brought by outsiders. Fine distinctions are lost on them. Anything that falls below the heroic in American history is a personal insult. Racism is a myth.
The worst thing that ever happened in their American history is George Washington chopping down a cherry tree with his little hatchet, and even then, he redeems his wickedness with his honest confession.
If their children are taught about actual bad things that really happened in the past, it makes them feel bad about themselves, in theory. Or maybe even in actuality. Maybe because they sympathize with the evildoers.
They hate to see it suggested the Confederacy was big on slavery. They hate to see it suggested the South lost the Civil Wa, and I suppose, given the politics of the moment, they might have a point.
Real history isn't about absolutes. It is never black or white, but shades of meaning, depths of complexity. Not one cause but a dozen. Which is one reason I'm such a fan of Chicago's TikTok historian, Shermann "Dilla" Thomas.
He goes places. He can be giving a tour of Bronzeville and suddenly start talking about the Marx Brothers, who lived there over a century ago. His Chicago is never the simple child's drawing of cliches and deep dish pizza that outsiders like to offer, but a rich, varied tapestry of people and places, achievement and heartbreak.
Speaking of the latter, we last visited with him two weeks ago, when I broke the story that ComEd had lured him out of his safe union berth then showed him the gate. Some would sulk after that, but Dilla has been busy.
On Friday, he dropped Episode 01 of his "You Don't Know Chi" YouTube program. Off the bat, he's into nuance. "Now we're either in Chatham, or we're in Grand Crossing," he begins, walking down a summery street. "But we can figure that out a little bit later."
The show had 5,000 views its first day and is well worth 13 minutes of your time. Ostensibly about the classic Chicago bungalow, it ranges over a variety of subjects, including the warmth of neighborhoods and a rib joint to add to your must-visit list.
As a historian, Thomas is an essentially upbeat guy who has no reluctance to plunge into the messy and the unpleasant, managing the neat feat of being positive while giving full recognition to history's troublesome places — Mahalia Jackson lived at 82nd and Indiana and, oh yeah, her house was bombed.
His show is fast-paced and well-produced. Professional, but not too slick. But there's no need for me to act as a filter; just go watch it yourself.
He's joined by rapper Rhymefest — co-writer with John Legend and Common of "Glory" from the movie "Selma" — who supplied what, to me, is the most valuable thought of the episode. And what would that be? First, watch the video. Go to YouTube and plug in “You Don’t Know Chi!”
Finished? Really? C'mon, go back and give it a try. It's fun and easy, and you'll learn stuff. I sure did.
Now you're done? Good.
It was Rhymefest's remark, during his chummy visit with Thomas, about the scratches and damage on his Grammy, how it being manhandled by the kids he's shown it to is a good thing.
"If it didn't have any scars on it, that means I'm not using it for anything," he said.
That's good sense, and a thought I've never heard expressed before. As someone who can get worked up over that kind of thing — a scratch on a thermos, a ding on a car — I'm going to try to take Rhymefest's attitude to heart.
There's always more to learn, from history and each other.