welcome to theshelf.blog!

This is a media criticism project that centers around the idea of what books, films, games, and albums I allow to live on a real-life shelf in my apartment. The bar for entry is therefore relative to the amount of open space at a given time, and decisions will have to be made when space gets tight.

project goals and philosophy

Most of us have to be judicious with physical space in our homes today, and so many readers of this blog may have unwittingly engaged in a similar premise of deciding what deserves to stick around. I think it’s a natural process that is sort of the basic “work” of consumers.

the value of physical media

The natural question that arises from such a predicament of physical space is “why own anything physically at all?” Most art forms can be totally consumed digitally, and the four media types covered on this site have had their entire industries reorient towards digital consumers.

I felt similarly until “Capcomgate” in early 2024, wherein games I’d already purchased on Steam to play on my Deck were retrofitted with DRM that destroyed Proton compatibility, rendering them useless to me. It dawned on me then that I was sick of this shit.

I disliked movies teleporting around a carousel of streaming platforms. I disliked being forced into unwanted, sometimes destructive remasters on Spotify. I disliked that Amazon could censor a novel you’d already purchased without your permission. In short, I just disliked the powerlessness that came with digital goods. The convenience it promised no longer felt valuable.

My fiancee also sold me on the idea of owning things you love. Our office room is filled floor-to-ceiling with posters, figurines, albums, books, photocards, and memorabilia from our trips. It’s a whirlwind of pink and black, and it’s been a great joy to her to fill it over the years. She then reaps the benefits of this labor each day, farming small joy each day as she enters the space to clock in or start a personal project.

We often talk about the idea of shibuya-kei, which we interpret as self-expression through curation. With intention and care, you can define yourself in little ways and physically live within a space that reflects that definition back upon you. It is a form of self-affirmation that arises from employing your agency.

Digital media is one way in which this becomes harder, or even impossible. Works that we love trigger strong reactions of wonder, or joy, or empathy, or maybe some more complicated emotions. Having a physical reminder of that experience builds emotional webbing from you to the work, establishing a fulcrum from which you can more confidently further explore the new and unknown.

And finally, it’s a signal that can be silently shared to guests and onlookers, inviting connections to be made. It externalizes a value system of sorts, and in aggregate, can offer a negative-space portrait of a person. Digital consumption offers no outstretched hand to reality, it is solitary and ethereal.

separate signal from noise

about the author

My name is

my writing process

I jot notes in a small spiral-bound notebook entitled “CAPTURE”, if possible while experiencing some kind of art media. In the case of an event, like a movie theater showing, the notes are taken afterwards for obvious reasons. I use a standard four-color pen to distinguish the media type - the colors the media take on the site actually match the ones in the pen!

Periodically, the notes are reviewed and synthesized into larger thoughts. Sometimes, even smaller thoughts - I have done intentionally small word count limits in the past as a writing exercise.

ratings and outcomes

For any given work covered in an article, there will be two results tied to it: a score, 1-10, that attempts to capture my sentiment towards the work; and a “shelf outcome” - that is, if and how any decisions were made regarding ownership of the work as physical media.

a note on rating systems

I recognize that in practice, the assignment of numbered grades to works of art is reductive and ultimately meaningless. However, I maintain that it is useful as a tag of sorts. I am less interested in what a given work “deserves” in a vacuum than I am in how I feel about it relative to others. So in that respect, the scores themselves are an expression of my learned sense to distinguish merit among large quantities of works - something like z-scores.

Despite this futility, I have attempted to define, roughly, what each score tries to signify. Half-scores therefore represent a level of indecision between two sentiments. The scale is as follows.

Actively repulsive or hostile. Regret experiencing it. The work fails on a fundamental ethical or experiential level.
Incompetent to the point of frustration or tedium. Fails at basic execution. Not interesting, even as a curiosity.
Incompetent; a clear failure with occasional ideas or moments. Can still be interesting as a curiosity.
Shoddy, but with some considerable merits. Net negative experience, but not a waste.
Possibly remarkable, but ultimately mediocre. Positives and negatives balance out.
Competent with notable positives, but clear flaws hold it back. Slightly net positive and engaging, but nothing special.
Compelling. Holds attention consistently with clear creative vision, but has identifiable weaknesses or unrealized potential.
Excellent with impact. Emotionally resonant, structurally sound, leaves a lasting impression. Occasional blemishes don’t diminish the experience.
Masterful. Everything serves the vision. Deeply affecting with execution that feels inevitable. Lacking the final transcendent push.
Transcendent. Shifts perspective or creates an experience that feels unrepeatable.

In the past, I’ve had many accounts on art criticism platforms like Letterboxd, Backloggd, RateYourMusic, etc., and my rating distribution is a pretty even normal curve around 5.5. Because of this, it is exponentially less likely for a work to move further away from the center. I do not aim for a specific curve, though, and will not bend scores or include any similar meta-context of the platform in a score.