What if we could broadcast our pretentious reading choices publicly? What if restaurant guests could choose between vomiting or napping? What if we sustainably repurposed soiled gym mats as placebo dumb bells? What if eyeball bleeding was not only encouraged, but incentivized? What if we tapped into the nostalgia food market by selling stale snacks?

In this episode of Steal Scott’s Ideas, Matt, Sol & Eli gather in Manhattan for some execution in public.

**Sponsored by The Friendly Chemicals Music Festival

Execution Lesson 111: Start backing up the dump truck of compromise

Woody once said that whenever he started to write his films, in his bedroom, he would think they were going to be the greatest things ever made.

But then, once production was a go, he would start backing up the dump truck of compromise. And by the end, when the movie was about to be released, he would hope and pray that he wasn’t massively humiliated.

Because you can’t vouch for the final product, he warns. You can hope people talk about it, but you can’t promise that they’ll like it.

Proof positive, that everything we create has two births. First, as an idea in our head, where it’s flawless and foolproof and innocent. Second, as the real and tangible output of that idea in the world, where it’s powerlessly exposed to the harsh, raw light of reality.

The challenge is surrendering to that gap. Accepting that whatever is in our brains cannot be fully and perfectly realized on screen, on the page or on the stage. And remembering that the work never comes out quite the way we think it will.

But at the same time, not beating ourselves up for making compromises and managing expectations and ceasing to engage in meaningless battles. I used to come down hard on myself when my book and music and film projects looked differently in the real world than they did inside my heads. But I’m learning to accept that as the purchase price of producing things.

Because there’s always something lost in translation. Losing the full subtlety of meaning when we move from conception to execution is part of the creative process.

And in fact, that’s a good thing. It teaches us not to be so damn precious about everything. It helps us pass beyond the limits of the tiny island universe of our minds.

Are you able to forgive yourself for backing up the dump truck of compromise?

What if we deployed nano technology solutions for kitchen crunchies? What if sports arenas hired crowd profanity police? What if complaining made your pants fit better? What if people who wore eye patches had their own baths? What if we operationalized primal grooming?

In this episode of Steal Scott’s Ideas, Ben, Danielle & Brittany gather in Brooklyn for some execution in public.

**Sponsored by Baggit

Execution Lesson 110: When we dash away from ideas too fast

It’s true that language is a powerful lever for changing the world around us.

But it’s also true that words can be twisted to match any desire we have, and interpreted to justify any action we take.

In fact, many of our greatest revelations occur in speechless moments when we perceive things greater and beyond the sum total of all words.

That’s one of the great joys of songwriting. People feel our music before they listen to it. Unlike prose or poetry or other types of one dimensional compositions, our medium of song isn’t under as much pressure to make sense or prove anything or even mean anything.

Because it has layers. It relies on the rhythm and melody to do most of the heavy emotional lifting. That’s where the real magic comes from. The words are almost pedestrian at that point.

Hell, the best songwriter in rock history famously used the word scrambled eggs as his working title to hold the music and phrasing in place until he found a suitable replacement. And once he substituted it with the word yesterday, it became the most covered song of all time.

Think of it this way. Ever realized that you have been singing the wrong words to a popular song your whole life? Once you learned the correct lyric, did you change the way you sang it?

Of course not. Because all that mattered was how the song made you feel while you sang it.

Remember, words are chewed gum. Don’t allow yourself to get trapped in a language with too little imagination.

Release the grip of neurons on all your small thoughts. And excuse me while I kiss this guy.

Do you have the strength and the love to sit in the silence that goes beyond words?