Watching Violence

 

In her first feature film, The Lost Daughter, Maggie Gyllenhaal managed to both make a faithful adaptation of the Elena Ferrante novel of the same name and make the story her own. This achievement was in addition to her playing a range of notable female characters as an actress for years (my favorite is Eileen/Candy from The Deuce). As a result, one of the films I really looked forward to this year was The Bride!, her ambitious take on the story of The Bride of Frankenstein.

The Bride! was declared a misfire in many ways, which I don’t necessarily disagree with. If it wasn’t for its 80+ million-dollar budget (and financial loss), it could have been declared punk or experimental instead. Regardless, Gyllenhaal still managed to make the story her own, despite the crowded field of Frankenstein adaptations, and made some choices that are worth noting down. The choice I thought about the most after watching the film was the way the film depicted violence. Rather than brushing it off, the film’s main character, The Bride, acknowledges and puts weight on the violence inflicted by her or because of her actions.

 

In recent years, I have become more conscious of the violence I have been watching all my life as someone whose main hobby is watching stuff. It was long time coming, but the tipping point was watching The Sopranos for the first time in my 30s, even though I should also give credit to Game of Thrones (the TV show not the books) for this.

 

Being at home more during COVID days, I had more time on my hands. Rather than picking up baking bread like others seemed to be doing at the time, I decided it was time to finally watch Entourage and The Sopranos, two series I had never been super interested in watching but thought I should watch at some point due to both being cultural touchstones in their own right. In a way, this was like me doing my late homework.

By the time I got to the last season of The Sopranos, I thought I wouldn’t be able to finish this homework. I hit the limits of the amount of misogyny and violence I could stomach watching due to the show’s depiction of misogyny and violence amplifying with each season. People killing others due to receiving a homophobic slur from them, women being killed by men only to be forgotten, a closeted gay character finally deciding to leave his environment to be free to live his truth only to face one of the most brutal deaths in the show … The fake eating scenes, where characters aggressively use the fork on the pasta/ziti on their plates without eating anything, became the relief points.

I had to watch the first season of the L Word revival, where the characters discuss their issues via talking instead of killing, beating up, or psychologically manipulating each other, to wash away the lingering impact of the excessive misogyny/violence exposure after I was done with The Sopranos.

 

What if I had watched The Sopranos during the time it was aired with more time in between the episodes? Would it have been easier, even fun, to finish the show? In those days, I watched all sorts of things, mostly made by men, that aestheticized violence. I didn’t glorify it in my head but didn’t question or badly reacted to it either.

As I got older, my tolerance to watching (certain kinds of) violence got lower. In parallel, the scenes of violence became more mainstream as they moved from movies to TV.

 

I looked forward to the new Game of Thrones episodes like many others when the show aired. But Game of Thrones was also the first TV show that made me ask many times “Was this scene necessary?” There was even one episode that I thought I was going to puke in one of the scenes (Season 4 Episode 4 – Craster’s Keep scene) and paused it to take a break.

An argument for such scenes is that they follow the source material. Yet I don’t remember wanting to puke at any point while reading The Song of Ice & Fire series, and the scene I mentioned above was a creative choice made by the showrunners.

Another argument is that violence is part of our history and life. The Sopranos didn’t show anything that doesn’t happen in real life. Maybe that was why it was so hard for me to watch. But I don’t know how it was to watch for others who are fans of characters such as Tony Soprano, and his newer versions Don Draper (Mad Men) and Walter White (Breaking Bad).

 

Unlike The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, or The Game of Thrones, Mad Men is one of my favorite TV shows. The show aired at the time I was in the early days of practicing my profession trying to find my place and voice among an army of boys/men. When people said, “this show is sexist”, I defended it for its depiction of sexism. For me, in those early days, watching the show was therapeutic because of its well-written female characters trying to make it among the Mad Men and through all the sexism. But then why did Don Draper have to be the show’s focus? Why did his story steal time from Peggy’s and Joan’s?

 

Does art become sexist, racist, homophobic for depicting sexism, racism, homophobia? Is it a matter of how the depiction is or how the characters inflicting it are treated?

When does depicting violence serve a purpose? Does it ever serve a purpose? Can it be an effective tool for depicting sexism, racism, homophobia? Or does it reinforce these things instead?

When/If depicting violence serves a purpose, when does it become “glorification”? Is that a matter of the perception of the viewer regardless of what the depiction intends?

 

My favorite genre is horror. I get catharsis from watching some of the horror films (e.g., Titane); they provide me with a cheap and intimate therapy experience, similar to Mad Men. Don’t we all need some tools to help us deal with both personal and this world’s horrors? Watching the news often feels more disturbing than any horror film I have ever watched. Plus, don’t many horror films/series/books offer smart political allegories?

I can give you a list of “favorite fight scenes.” At the top would be the scene from True Romance where Patricia Arquette is against a pre-Sopranos James Gandolfini. If it didn’t end the way it does, not sure if I would like that scene considering the amount of violence Arquette’s character, Alabama, endures. On the other hand, does it justify the violence she inflicts on Gandolfini’s character, Virgil, in return?  

In recent TV history, one of the characters I really enjoyed watching was Villanelle (Killing Eve). What makes Villanelle’s violence different from the one inflicted by any of the characters in The Sopranos? Is it because she isn’t fueled by misogyny? Am I more forgiving of women? Or is it just the rarity of watching an unapologetic woman who cannot be put in a box and is excellent at her job, which happens to be being an assassin?

John Wick films are a rare kind that put my mind in standby mode, and hence oddly help me relax, even though I acknowledge the excessive number of casualties that are in each of those films. In a recent podcast episode of Unspooled, the guest Jorma Taccone refers to a scene in the first John Wick film saying, “if they just cut to every single widow he has just made.” Does the ridiculousness of those scenes where John Wick is on binge-killing is the reason why my mind reacts less to them?

Similarly, none of the gory violence scenes in Terrifier 3 bother me as much as the scene where Sue is beating Elisabeth in The Substance. The Terrifier series is not really the type of horror I like, and I don’t intend to watch others in the series; the extremity of its violence makes it harder for me to take it seriously. On the other hand, The Substance is exactly the kind of horror movie I am interested in, body horror made by a female filmmaker. I understand the purpose of that beating scene, which is the reason why I take it more seriously, but I also wish that the movie kept that scene shorter. Does the extended duration of it help delivering its point better or does it turn into exploitation at that point?

 

It is also important to note down the alternative thoughtful and effective creative choices.

As mentioned in the beginning, The Bride! doesn’t accept casualties, unlike John Wick or most superhero films, and acknowledges the consequences of violence.

While still depicting a lot of violence and being a much grimmer show due to the subject matter, House of the Dragon, the Game of Thrones spin-off, seems more careful about how and when it visualizes violence, especially violence toward women. It also seems to employ more female writers and directors behind the scenes. 

The first season of Jane Campion’s Top of The Lake has the topic of sexual assault engrained throughout its story without showing any scenes of it.

Paola Cortellesi’s C'è ancora domani switches to musical aesthetics and shows characters dancing rather than depicting violence during, what we clearly understand, the scenes of the lead character, Delia, being beaten by her husband.

Maybe more should think about such alternatives.

 

I know this is a heavily debated subject. I am not a film/TV scholar and don’t really have a thesis here, just my personal experience as someone who loves to watch things. I have no right to be didactic or claim high morals either; as mentioned above I do watch a range of things that include violence and love some of them. The best I can do is at least to question what I watch more carefully now and not simply accept scenes of violence for the sake of it.

 

Indfødsretsprøven

Study material for indfødsretsprøven.

There I was last Wednesday in a sports hall in Frederiksberg with many other foreigners, sitting on a chair that was not designed by Arne Jacobsen, behind a desk that was too high for my size and took the Danish citizenship test, indfødsretsprøven.

 

Indfødsretsprøven is one of the requirements for a Danish citizenship application. It is given twice a year composed of 45 multiple choice questions: 35 of them is from a reading/study material on Danish history, culture, politics, life … (243 pages long for this instance), 5 of them are from contemporary Danish news, and 5 of them are on Danish values. You have 45mins for it. To pass, you have to answer at least 36 out of 45 correctly, while also answering at least 4 out of 5 of the Danish value questions correctly. In the previous iteration of the exam, only 47.2% of the examiners passed.

 

The last three weekends in May, I spent at least half of my time studying for the test. Two of my ballpoint pens died in the process. My goal was to be done with all the reading by Sunday before the test, so that I have some time to do the previous tests (last 12 are available online) for practice.

When I sat down that Sunday morning to do a practice test, I was full of self-confidence based on carefully studying the reading material, my overall knowledge of the world history, and all the Danish books, TV, films, news I have consumed since I moved to Denmark. Up until the last part of the test, the 5 Danish value questions, that confidence stayed intact. Then, my body started experiencing something I wasn’t expecting. I did a second test, the same reaction. It was like receiving aggression.

After that second test, I found myself on the couch crying. (It was one of those Tori Amos Little Earthquakes moments.) I guess the baggage of decades of EU-Turkey relations was coming out of me, the person whose childhood aligned with the period Turkey tried entering EU the most. After that cry, I was able to emotionally detach and do the rest of the practice tests without issues.

 

The Danish values part of the exam primarily targets people who come from non-Western and Muslim-majority backgrounds, which includes me. According to some Danish politicians, we have higher chances of not aligning with Danish values (whatever that means), so that part of the test was introduced in 2021. Not sure how effective a test could be on this front, anyone can answer in opposition to what they believe to pass a test, but maybe I am being an arrogant academic here.

If you look at the questions, themes are violence against women, child brides, forced marriages, democratic values, press freedom, personal freedom, LGBTQ+ rights, … These are very important themes. All of them are worth a fight to me, and they have their roots from real-life events that aren’t all from the non-Western world. My reaction wasn’t to the themes; it was to the approach. Just like every previous interaction I had with EU(+Switzerland) trying to evaluate me (or my country), the approach felt top-down.

First, I did a couple of those questions wrong across the practice tests just because the question had a Danish word that I didn’t know. You are allowed to make only one mistake on that part of the exam, so this creates an extra stressful situation. I get that part of the exam is evaluating one’s Danish language skills as well, but if one gets a question wrong due to not knowing a word or phrase, does that mean that they have unacceptable values?

Then, in one of the practice tests, there was a question asking the age of sexual consent in Denmark. The options were 12, 15, and 18. The correct answer is 15. I didn’t really know Danish law on this point, and the study material doesn’t have it. Not sure if that makes me a terrible person. In Turkey, the answer is 18. I picked 15, though, while doing the practice test, just because I remembered the news from some years ago about a Danish politician, Jeppe Kofod, having at some point a relationship with a 15-year-old while he was 34,  which was not illegal but a point of discussion due to the age and power difference. But what if a person answers “18” to this? Does that make them someone with unacceptable values? Again, you are allowed to make only one mistake here.

Finally, there are also the questions of the sort “What is the ranking of Denmark when it comes to press freedom / democracy / LGBTQ+ rights / …?” or “What percentage of Danish population is against someone beating their wives?” You of course pick the highest rankings and percentages, respectively, for these, since “Denmark is a perfect land!”

 

Thankfully, in the test I took on Wednesday, there were no violence-related questions under “values” section. The two questions I want to note are:

(1) There was the question of whether a parent has the legal right to ask for meat that is slaughtered based on religious practices for their child in kindergarten. While the answer is “no” to this, based on friends and colleagues with children in Denmark, I know that some schools try to be accommodating for the different dietary preferences and restrictions these days, which I think is nice.

(2) There was the question of whether one can have another spouse while already married. Of course, the answer is “no” to this but considering that I am hearing more and more open relationships and less pair-wise arrangements around me, maybe people will change their minds about this in the future. =P

 

To end on a positive note, it was a nice experience to read the study material and watch more documentaries about Denmark during May. I am a nerd when it comes to history, culture, and politics. Time spent on these topics is enjoyable for me even if it is for a test. Observing how a country chooses to present itself through such study material is also interesting.

The exam itself was pleasant as well. This was my third exam in Denmark for permanent residency and citizenship applications. In all cases, the exam organizers were quite friendly and helpful.

I checked my answers against the released ones the day after the exam, and assuming what I remember from the exam is correct, I have only one mistake in the part about contemporary Danish news. My mistake was due to the failure of my Danish rather than my knowledge. Not sure if it makes it better or worse. In any case, this means another big milestone is done (almost – need to get the official result to confirm for sure). But I still have the end-of-game-monster to face, which is the application process and the wait, which in my case can take 2-3 years.

This is me ending on a positive note. 

Bananas

Note: This was the write-up for the last part of my EDBT keynote. The talk itself was of course slightly different.

 

This concludes the scientific part of my talk. In the remaining time, I would like to talk about bananas.

My parents were visiting me in Copenhagen in August 2024. One day, we were walking in the Vesterbro neighborhood. And we saw a young well-built man coming toward us in the other direction who had an empty banana peel in his hands while eating another banana and holding a third, not yet peeled, banana.

Seeing this image, I turned to my dad and said, “You have given me one third of a banana my entire life, and here is this guy eating three whole bananas by himself.”

Why one third of a banana? My dad has the principle of splitting whatever food he serves into equal pieces to people he is serving that food to. While I was growing up, we were three people in the house (my mom, my dad, and I). When we had/have visitors, the distribution of the food was/is adjusted accordingly.

I get my dad. I get where he is coming from. It isn’t just because he didn’t grow up rich, and that is an understatement, but for his generation growing up in Turkey, bananas weren’t that accessible even if you were rich. (Depending on your country of origin you may have this relationship with different kinds of fruits.)

Today, bananas are more accessible for everyone in Turkey because of the many greenhouse productions. Similar trends exist for many other consumer products whether it is clothes, food, or … technology.

 

Since their release, the cost of using generative AI tools has declined. This is what we expected, and this is what we wanted. As a result, they are more accessible to a larger scale of users, and I experience more and more of the following:

A friend tells me that they use ChatGPT to get ideas for what to cook later.

Colleagues tell me that they use one GenAI tool for literature search, another GenAI tool for brainstorming for ideas, yet another GenAI tool for help with writing, and Claude Code for coding …

Students tell me the answers they got from GenAI tools for errors, definition of a concept, setup steps of a library ...

I get why people embrace these tools so much. Today, it also takes me less time to search for something if I am using such a tool compared to old-school web search. But I am also almost embarrassed to say that I don’t have a drive to consult GenAI tools by default, and I in general avoid them. (I also avoided smart phones for a long time.)

 

Technology is like any other consumer product. The cheaper the product gets, the more accessible it becomes, which creates higher consumption, which in turn requires ever growing resource needs to deliver the product. In economics, this is called Jevon’s paradox.

There is always a high cost to a cheap product, and high consumption translates to high carbon footprint.

That is why we get depressing / dystopian news articles about the energy demands of data centers and this being driven by the demands of AI. *

 

How do we achieve more sustainable progress in the field of AI?

Do we always need the biggest / latest GPU? Do we always need bigger scale?

We keep rejecting academic papers for not targeting larger scales.

Do we have to use a GenAI tool as often?

The banana pictures I showed were taken by me, not by GenAI, and I then ate those bananas over a two-week period.

How do we decide how often to use things? Who decides?

I neither want these tools to be inaccessible to people nor want to be patronizing and tell people not to use them.

But how do we incentivize lower use?

At the end of the day, all hardware vendors want to sell more hardware, since there is no economic incentive to do otherwise.

 

I have a BSc in computer engineering and PhD in computer science. I am not an economist, anthropologist, political scientist …  I am qualified to discuss a subset of the above questions but not all. A more holistic discussion requires reaching across the aisle and talking and collaborating with people from other disciplines.

 

* Some of these articles:

The Obscene Energy Demands of A.I.

Google plans to put datacentres in space to meet demand for AI

Sam Altman gets defensive about AI’s massive electricity usage: ‘It also takes a lot of energy to train a human’

Inside the Dirty, Dystopian World of AI Data Centers

 

Farewells

  

He isn’t in his usual position smoking a cigarette on the couch looking out the window. Instead, he is lying on the couch, sleeping. I doubt his hands could hold a cigarette now. They tried different things to make him better. He doesn’t look better. He looks like cancer ate him up into a skeleton.

I am 8. I am looking at my uncle realizing this is probably the last time I see him. I don’t remember when exactly I learned what death was, certainly I am aware of other people who died. But at that moment, for the first time, I really understand what death means; not just the detached awareness of it as something that happens to everyone, but all the emotions that come with it.

My parents tell me it is time to leave and to say goodbye. I am unsure if they mean it as the last farewell or a regular goodbye, but I can’t take chances. I approach my uncle. I want to hug him like E.T. hugs Elliott just before he departs to go back to his space-home. At 8, that is the only “we likely won’t see each other again, and I want you to know that I love you” farewell I know. What is the best way to hug him as he is lying on the couch? Would it wake him up? Would it hurt him? Should I just kiss him gently on his head or cheek instead?

As I am deep in my thoughts, his hand suddenly reaches for mine and grabs it from the bottom. Then, he puts his other hand on top. He squeezes my hand tightly. He can’t speak. But he says his version of “we likely won’t see each other again, and I want you to know that I love you” to me and relieves me of the burden of trying to figure out the “perfect farewell.”

Now I know there are no perfect farewells, and it is a luxury to have a chance to say “farewell” to a loved one before they pass away.

 

She is 6. I want to hug her properly to say goodbye, but I have to be content with a quick side-hug, because she just saw her best friend at the school entrance and ran to her. Last night, while playing the Hello Kitty video game, I was her best friend. Next time I see her, likely a year later, there won’t be a Hello Kitty game. But I hope I can have a permanent place in her life, at least as her (cool?) aunt.

About 5 hours later, I hug her mom tightly to say goodbye, before I depart for the airport to go back to my life in Copenhagen. Her mom is one of my best friends, my Twin Sister. I wish we lived in the same city like we used to, but I was the one who left that city first.

This hasn’t gotten easier, even though farewells are a routine part of my expat life for more than 15 years now. In addition to my visits to Turkey to see close family, I try my best to arrange once-a-year-visit to certain loved ones who neither live in Turkey or Denmark nor go to the same conferences. It takes effort, I have to organize my work schedule and life in Copenhagen around this. Before each visit, I wonder whether this is too much effort at my age now. After each visit, all the doubt disappears, and I am left with bittersweet tiredness.

 

I hug her tightly and say, “We’ll keep in touch.” I wish I could think of something smarter to say. The truth is I don’t know when I will see her again. She is going back to her home country, Argentina, tomorrow, after ~8 years in Denmark. Argentina isn’t in Europe, I can’t go there every year, and there are low chances that work will take me there.

There was a possibility that the Radiohead concert last night was going to be our farewell. While that sounded cool in theory, the reality would have been us saying each other farewell among the super-packed post-concert crowd moving toward public transportation. Once again, there is no perfect farewell, but we are both glad that we didn’t have to do the post-concert farewell.

This is technically our 5th farewell. We did one at my place to say farewell to all the movie / TV evenings we had eating take away food from Wokshop Amager. We did one at Husets Biograf, where we went to the movies together for the first time and our friendship was formed, which was also her farewell to Huset. We did one at her place, which was my farewell to all the peaceful time I spent there with her and her family. And we had a farewell dinner with a group of friends.

She has been my #1 partner-in-crime in Denmark. We moved to Copenhagen around the same time. We met during our early days in Copenhagen. We bonded over our shared love of movies and political/feminist views. We referred to the couch next to the entrance of Husets Biograf as “our couch”. During the first COVID lockdown, she was the first person I arranged to meet in person after almost one month of isolation. She had my extra house keys. …

The third book of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Novels is titled Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay. I love that title. (I adore the books.) I am used to being the one who leaves. I left my parents in 2005. I left Illegitimate Daughter in 2009. I left my academic family in 2014. I left Twin Sister in 2018. This is the first time I am the one who stays, and Sister in Movies is leaving. I know she is leaving for a good reason, I left for good reasons each time and had no regrets after. I am happy for her, but I also know that I will miss her.

 

I miss her. I miss them.

 

Sports ... for Health, or As a Team Activity or Hobby

 

I was going through my work TO-DO list in my head, as I was lifting 5kg on each side of the barbell during the strength training class at the gym, until the class instructor approached me and added an extra 2.5kg on each side telling me in Danish that I look like I can do more. She was right, I could balance the extra 2.5kg the rest of the class time. It took more effort, but I no longer thought about work.

Once upon a time, playing basketball was my favorite thing to do. Today, the only reason I do sports is that unless I do that, my body aches, because I am old now. My body aches as a result of strength training as well, but I prefer that ache to the one that happens when I don’t exercise at all. Going to a gym class is easier than motivating myself to exercise on my own. An exception to this is swimming, but I don’t view it as a sport, it is a part of the relationship I have with the sea.

The attitude of my PhDs and postdocs toward sports is completely different from mine. They are seriously motivated. They run. They climb. They cycle. They do all sorts of strength training. Some of them are even into Ironman events, which are triathlons that include swimming, cycling, and running. Before I moved to Denmark, the only Iron Man I knew was Tony Stark.

I tell people “My team members do sports at the level of ex-drug addicts” as a joke, but no one has laughed at this so far. The source of that joke in my head is the character Mark Renton in Irvine Welsh’s Porno who takes up running to replace the high he used to get from drugs. I am not sure what this (non-)sense of humor says about me, but it is clear that I shouldn’t get into stand-up comedy any time soon.

 

During my sabbatical, I had the pleasure of being invited to various social activities organized by the research groups that were hosting me. One was a water sports activity followed by dinner. Another one was ice skating followed by dinner. In both cases, I only participated in the dinner part and haven’t regretted that decision. (In the former case, I was also on the heavy days of my period.)

I don’t bike. I don’t climb. I don’t ski. I don’t ice-skate. I don’t do any water sports. I hike very seldomly. I am afraid that one day I will be deported from Europe because I refuse to do all these activities that when thought collectively scream “European welfare” to me.

I didn’t get to do sports or elaborate/complex hobbies as a teenager. I had to go to weekend school to prepare for the big university exam on top of going to regular school five days a week, like most teenagers in Turkey do if they want to get into a decent university, which does not necessarily guarantee a job that pays above minimum wage today. My main weekend hobby was watching TV on Saturday nights on our living room couch and then crashing there, and I loved it.

It is lazy to dismiss the more elaborate hobbies or sports just because I didn’t grow up with “European welfare” and can’t feel myself part of it. I know many foreigners in Europe who took up skiing or climbing after moving to Europe and became passionate about them. Also, not all Europeans grow up with welfare and can still enjoy these things. In my case, simply: Life is short, I have limited time and energy, there is a lot I want to do, and I am just not interested in these things. I can’t embrace skiing or water sports or cycling the same way I embrace raclette or avocados or fastelavnsbolle. I once watched a person dressing up for skiing and was like “Nope! Too much.” Water sports, beyond swimming, tend to separate you from the water, so don’t get the point. I admit cycling could be useful, especially to reach the beach/sea faster. But I love walking, it gives me time to think and dream.

Maybe I am not adventurous enough or open to change. Though, having lived in four countries long-term and a couple of others short-term in addition to traveling as much as I do for work, my adventure and change quotas are full and buffers are overflown as is. I will keep it to hobbies and sports that do not require elaborate clothing, gear, expenses, and planning … at least for now.

January Blues & 2025

  

Even though I love my life in Copenhagen, January has been a difficult month since I moved to Denmark.

(1) It is dark. Technically, the days are getting longer, but there is usually an overcast between you and the sun. While I did my best to escape the sun when I was younger, now I am turning into your average plant.

(2) It is cold. Well, it is winter, it should be cold. But the combination of cold and wind is at a level that turns the activity of taking a long walk outside from peaceful to unpleasant.

(3) There are course exams. Grading students for a course may be the least favorite part of my job. There are things I don’t want to do even for money in my life, and grading a student's performance in a course is among them. Many of my colleagues have similar sentiments. I am not sure if the students realize their professors are as uncomfortable about the exams as they are.

(4) Being exposed to all three above right after returning from the holidays in Istanbul, where I get a lot of love and care from the family, amplifies the negative effects.

I refer to this situation as January Blues.

 

This January, I also had two work trips (one to Amsterdam and one to the US). Both trips were awesome, and the latter dissolved my January Blues as it took me to my previous home, downtown San Jose, where the sun was generous and I had some time to hit my old favorite spots in the area. But I am left with scarce energy and time for writing once again. And, just like a student, who is trying to make their deadline at the last minute, I am making this attempt at a blog post for January.

 

I have never reviewed a year with respect to films, TV shows, books … despite going through a decent amount of them. My feelings toward making lists of this stuff for a year is similar to what Emily Nussbaum wrote in the article where she was reviewing the year 2011. Is this pretentious? Who am I to review things? I am neither a TV critic like Emily Nussbaum nor an important person like Obama. I haven’t seen / read everything. People have different tastes, what I like is subjective. I may not like what I liked this year later, maybe it was that particular time / day / occasion that made the difference. Most things I watch / read are the productions of the Western World, and more specifically the English-speaking world. …

So, this is not an attempt to make rankings and lists, but a recollection of a year, which feels more and more distant each day. I know that it is more customary to do this in December rather than January, but I will keep that in mind for 2026.

 

The ordering is based on the order I saw / read things. To keep things manageable, I put the limit of mentioning at most 5 things in each category, even though it was hard. There will be no spoilers in this one.

 

Films:

Coexistence, My Ass!

A great documentary centered around the solo show of the comedian Noam Shuster-Eliassi that tackles the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Sinners

Is this horror? musical? historical drama? action?

Well, it has the best of all of the above!

Den Stygge Stesøsteren

After so many takes on the Cinderella story, can one still do a new take that feels interesting? Norwegian director/writer Emilie Blichfeldt does it in this body horror comedy.

Sorry, Baby

I was impressed by the kind of thoughtful tone this film strikes in a dark comedy that takes on a topic as difficult as this one. It is the first feature film of Eva Victor, who is also the writer of the film and plays the lead. I am looking forward to seeing what they do in the future.

Alpha

Rather than adding another body horror here, I could have picked something else for the sake of diversity. But this is the newest by Julia Ducournau, I dedicated a whole blog post to her previous film Titane, I will always give a shout out to her.

 

Series:

Say Nothing

Technically from late 2024, but I will include here. I have special interest in Irish history.

Sirens

This was the show I discussed the most with other people after watching. Wrote about it also in Childless Petless Plantless Lady: Part 1.

Étoile

The latest from Amy Sherman-Palladino and Daniel Palladino. Unfortunately, it got cancelled after first season. I must admit it had some misses, but it also had great dance pieces and memorable/quotable moments. I already included a quote from it in Childless Petless Plantless Lady: Part 2.

Man on the Inside

The first season of this show is also from 2024. I decided to watch it with the release of the second season, which is in 2025. It is a lovely show on grief, family dynamics, getting older, and intergenerational relationships. I think there should be more shows that focus on older people.

Stranger Things – Last Season

As kids in the 90s, my generation in Turkey grew up watching stuff on TV from the 80s. Early seasons of this show were an overdose of 80s nostalgia, and thus I was hooked. Then, it became something I watched for the characters, and it didn’t matter if it was good or not. Last season was a nice goodbye.

 

Books:

Mixing up some from 2024 here as well, I read them all in 2025, so that part fits.

Rather than adding individual notes here, I just want to give a shout out to the authors of these books. Except for Hisham Matar, I have followed their work regularly over the years and appreciate anything they create. Hisham Matar’s My Friends was given to me as a birthday gift this year by my dear colleague Maria Astefanoaei. I thank her for introducing me to this author.

All Fours – Miranda July

Evil Eyes Sea – Özge Samancı

My Friends – Hisham Matar

Dead or Alive – Zadie Smith

Adulthood is a Gift (Sarah’s Scribbles #5) – Sarah Andersen

 

Music:

I tend to be more conservative in the way I listen to music and don’t do much to discover new stuff. This part is about the artists I got into in 2025, even though they have been around for a while.

Chapell Roan

Discovered when I watched her on Saturday Night Live late 2024. Started listening to her more and more often in 2025. Got to watch her live in Syd for Solen. I think Pink Pony Club deserves to be an anthem.

Fontaines D.C.

Discovered while watching Andrea Arnold’s Bird last year, where you get to hear the music of Fontaines D.C. Especially, Too Real, which plays during the end credits, caught my attention. I can’t believe what I was missing all these years.

 

Socializing Through Anti-Social Hobbies

  

“Can we do a cultural activity tonight?” my cousin asked. I was temporarily living in Berlin for my sabbatical. He was in Berlin for a couple of days for work visiting from Stuttgart. I was ready for his question, as I had proactively compiled a list of possible activities, which included some movie options and comedy shows, for that evening anticipating he might ask this question. After all, when it comes to these matters, we are cut from the same cloth.

 

“None of these are social hobbies.” was the reaction I got from a friend, I drifted apart from over time, after she inquired my hobbies and I listed them. I don’t remember the exact list, but knowing myself it was probably a subset of watching movies/series/stage-shows, reading, writing, listening to music … She liked those things as well, but she also liked playing board games, which require other human beings and which I am ok to play if friends ask but won’t have a drive to play by default.

It is true that in theory one doesn’t need another person to do any of my hobbies. Is that the reason I am drawn to them? While this may be a contributing factor, as I value my independence and am an introvert, I think the primary factor is the cloth.

My dad poured his love of movies and music on me when I was a kid. Our main outdoors activity was going to the movies, which I know is not really an outdoors activity. At home, he culturally influenced (brainwashed?) me through what he chose to watch on TV and the music he listened to with me. Later in life, I of course developed my own taste in things, separately from him, and there is now mutual cultural influencing.

I grew up in a house full of books and was raised by a mom who always took the time to read books, not only work-related ones and often multiple in parallel. When I was in high school, she even read my Irvine Welsh and ChuckPalahniuk books hoping they would help her understand me better as I was being a difficult teenager (sorry mom!). So, we can say that mom and I have been influencing each other when it comes to books.

Once, while going through old stuff at home, I found a poem my mom wrote, way before she had me, and was blown away by her ability to strike a tone that was both tender and funny. After I moved abroad, I found another poem she wrote, this time about being a mother, in my apartment. She has no recollection of writing it. I keep it close to me.

One of my uncles, the one we lost when I was 10, almost built a shrine for his books and music records at home, and left his love of culture as his main inheritance to all his nieces and nephews. His books and music records are scattered across all our homes today as a part of our shrines. 

I had literature teachers who encouraged and challenged me in terms of writing despite it having no impact in any of the multiple-choice high-school or university entrance exams that become the mandatory focus of every teenager in Turkey forcing them to separate from their love of art and sports.

Today, with all my close friends and cousins, I can talk for hours about culture; the books we have been reading, the music we have been listening to, the stuff we have been watching … It is likely because of this that we are close and stay close even if we live in different countries. These discussions of culture are often entangled with real life experiences; a book, movie, song … may help explain an experience or real-life experiences influence what type of stories one is drawn to or how one interprets those stories.

 

These beg the question: Are my hobbies really anti-social if they are entangled with cross-personal influences and help me form stronger bonds with others even if the hobby activity itself may be performed as a solo activity?

How many friends would I have actually had during my BSc if I had never joined the cinema club?

What kind of person would I have become if Illegitimate Daughter had never listened to Tori Amos at our dorm room, insisted that I watch Gilmore Girls, or introduced me to Elena Ferrante?  

How many grim moments during PhD would have stayed grim if Twin Sister and I hadn’t quoted Turkish film moments to each other to snap out of the grimness? How many times a book she gave me said a lot more than words exchanged with others?

What if I hadn’t gone to see a play on one of the extra nights I spent in Copenhagen after my interview for my current job? What if I hadn’t felt at home in Huset, the culture house where the play was? Would I still have made my first friends in Denmark that night? Would I still have felt that sure about moving to Copenhagen?

What would my life in Denmark have been like if I had never asked Sister in Movies if she would be interested in watching two bad movies with me? What if she hadn’t answered “yes” to that absurd question she received from someone she knew only through Danish class?

 

I am a culture vulture when it comes to movies, books, music, and stage shows, with an interest in both the mainstream and counter- culture, as one doesn’t exist without the other. I have an easier time socializing through such cultural activities or talking about them. Most of my life, I thought I was anti-social because my culture vulturing hobbies seemed like they were solitary activities, but thinking their impact in my life more holistically, they never were.

I love you all, my fellow culture vultures!!

 

P.S. I first heard the term culture vulture thanks to the title of Moshe Kasher’s book Subculture Vulture. So, a shout out to him and his book!

 

Childless Petless Plantless Lady: Part 2

 

When I was in elementary school, my aunt periodically suffered from benign cysts and the associated pain in her breasts. She was unmarried, without children, and in her 30s. Once a doctor told her, “Having children may resolve these issues.” In one family gathering (composed of my parents, my grandparents, my aunt, and I), this doctor’s comment prompted the discussion among the adults (meaning everyone but me) on why my aunt wasn’t still married and her possible marriage prospects. As they were discussing, I, not yet 10, blurted out “She doesn’t have to get married to have a child.” This put an end to the discussion, and the adults’ attention re-focused on whatever was on TV.

Last year, I had a mammography for the first time. It was not a routine check; I am not yet old enough for that. It was due to what felt like a lump causing unusual pain in one of my breasts that became more disruptive than what I am used to before and during my period. I am now slightly older than the age my aunt was back when she was told “to have children” to resolve her pain. Unlike the pre-10-year-old me, I now know that benign cysts have nothing to do with having children or not, unlike breast cancer.

On a night when you are having a hard time falling asleep due to pain waiting for your mammography day to come, you start questioning if, in addition to the societal expectations, you are now also fighting with your own body. I thought getting older was helping me be more aligned with my body instead.

I had the mammography singing Green Day’s Basket Case in my head, which is what I do during all the uncomfortable clinic/hospital/doctor visits. (I may have to take break from this due to the Basket Case scene in Bugonia.) In the end, all the checks were clean. “It is your hormones”, the doctor said, the cliché reason for all the women’s issues. That pain left over time, just like it left my aunt.

 

When I was thinking of the pop-culture references to include in this post, the two that came to my mind were both from shows created by Amy Sherman-Palladino, who does not have children herself but nurtured one of the most iconic shows on mother-daughter relationships on TV; i.e., Gilmore Girls.

 

Sookie: Kids don’t like me, and I am not so sure I like them.

Lorelai: You’ll like your kid.

Gilmore Girls, Season 4 – Episode 3

 

Cheyenne: All of these years, I am here. I gave up everything - family, children.

Genevieve: Oh, you hate children.

Cheyenne: Because they are a drain on the world and are boring to talk to, but that doesn't mean I did not give them up.

Étoile, Season 1 – Episode 1

 

“Do you like children?” is what people ask you when they poke for whether you want to have children. I love children. I spent several children’s birthday parties in Bay Area playing with the children instead of talking to their parents. I don’t think this strictly correlates with wanting children. Similarly, not being sure if you like children in general doesn’t mean you shouldn’t become a parent. Most of my close friends are mothers now. Their relationship with children and dilemmas about having a child before they became mothers were all different. Today, while they have been facing the common challenges of becoming a mother, the way they mother their children is also different and uniquely their own and continues to amaze me.

Even if you do not have a strong will to have children, the choice of not having them is still a choice where you give them up in place of something else. How much you grieve for that choice later in life makes the difference. In her answer to a letter-writer who is trying to decide on whether to have children or not, Cheryl Strayed writes, “I’ll never know and neither will you of the life you don’t choose. We’ll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn’t carry us. There’s nothing to do but salute it from the shore.”

When I try to imagine my way older self, still childless, petless, and plantness, the image I see does not look like something that I would regret. Of course, I cannot know for sure how I will feel in the future, let alone if I will live that long. It is all a “gut” feeling. This also doesn’t mean that I am against having children or pets. I may even buy a plant one day. (Technically, I have a plant in my office, gift of one of my PhD students, that I care for. All the other plants I received, I killed. And I have never bought a plant myself.)

I am aware that I am writing from a place of privilege on this matter, and I don’t want to undermine the challenges others go through. Specifically, I would like to acknowledge that not everyone has the luxury to contemplate the choice of having children; reproductive rights are still not where they should be around the world, and there are many who struggle to have children despite really wanting them. (For the latter, I recommend Chloe Caldwell’s latest book Trying, which I finished in one day.)

 

One of the highlights of this year for me was my two-week London-Edinburg trip this September. I got to spend wonderful time with close friends in London and visit Edinburg for the first time (by myself). This is the type of thing my childless/petless/plantless-life grants me, which I cherish. While in Edinburg, after discovering a gem of an underground movie theater, where my phone had no reception and I watched the illegally downloaded version of the never-ever released The Fantastic Four (1994) with a bunch of strangers, I was pondering “Why do you have a higher drive to be at that theater than having children? Why can’t you even have plants in your house? Do you lack the ability to nurture?” The answers here are not straightforward, but to simplify it boils down to what you choose to nurture over others.

I of course heard from many mothers, including my own, that having their children was the best thing they had ever done in their lives. I value the voices of these women. There is nothing in my life that I can refer to as the best thing I have ever done. I accept the uniqueness of experiencing that kind of love. But I refuse imposing the desire for it on everyone.

 

Childless Petless Plantless Lady: Part 1

  

Warning: This post contains spoilers for Little Women, C'è ancora domani, Sirens, Barbie, Russian Doll, Fleabag, and And Just Like That....

 

I am a kid. She is a teenager. I love spending time with her. She looks like she is at ease with the world. I feel like an oddball most of the time, but not when I am with her. I like observing her while she does chores. I feel angry that she is given more work in the house and less freedom outside in comparison to her younger brother, but I don’t know how to express my anger yet. She doesn’t mind the housework, and she finds creative ways to exert her freedom even if it requires lying. She dreams of getting married and becoming a mother. Her face shines when she talks about these subjects. I dream of meeting E.T.

30 years later, she is married with three children, and I am a resident alien often in interactions with other resident aliens. We both got what we dreamed of, and that makes me happy, even though I am well aware that neither dream was achieved without challenges.

 

I am 17. She is in her early 30s. We are in her car. She is driving. We wanted to have some time for ourselves away from everyone else. She is married, not yet with children, but she wants children. I tell her, while open to it, I don’t feel a strong desire to be married or have children. She tells me that this is ok, but I am still young and that desire may come later.

20 years later, being more acquainted with love and heartbreak, I still don’t feel it. I love visiting a married friend or a cousin, acting like an extra member of their home for a few days, and being an aunt to their children. But I don’t need their life to be happy or content.

 

We are almost 30. I love her as if she is my own sister. I often think I am not capable of physically hurting someone on purpose, but if someone hurts her, I may be capable of making an exception. She tells me she doesn’t want to be alone. I tell her that she is not alone, and I am here. She objects and underlines what she really means by not being alone, even though I got what she really meant the first time.

About a year later, I am her witness at her wedding. It is a joyful day for all of us. I also feel something else that I don’t know how to express until Greta Gerwig puts it into words in her Little Women adaptation in the scene where Jo tells Meg “You will be bored of him in two years, and we will be interesting forever.” on Meg’s wedding day. Later in the same scene, Meg says, “Just because my dreams are different from yours, it doesn't mean they are unimportant.”

 

As a woman with the preexisting condition of being a feminist, one of my life goals is to ensure that nothing in this world is strong enough to belittle neither my dreams nor the dreams of three women I refer to above. We live in a world where their dreams are more easily accepted, though, while mine reminds me what my mom once said to me during a heated argument: “If you want to do things differently, don’t complain about it, own it.”

 

Before she passed away, I called my grandma every Sunday after I moved abroad, regardless of where I was in the world. One Sunday, she roughly said, “You are so unlucky. Where is your white-horse prince?” I roughly replied, “I am not unlucky, I have my own horse.” She bought that argument.

As I get older, I hear similar remarks more often, even from family elders who are unmarried themselves. Even if I disagree with them and at times get very frustrated, I get the well-intentioned root of such remarks. Your loved ones want you to be happy. The picture of happiness indoctrinated in all our heads includes a family picture with a couple and children.

In August, during the Bikini Kill concert at Syd For Solen, Kathleen Hanna (the lead singer) talked about trying to figure out who her authentic self was without any of the indoctrination this world subjected her, and everyone else, to when younger. Her conclusion was there was no separation between her authentic and indoctrinated selves as she had never been not indoctrinated.

Earlier this year, while watching the movie C'è ancora domani and the series Sirens, I had to face my own indoctrination despite owning my life choices against people trying to convince me to work hard for a different life.

 

I saw C'è ancora domani together with four ladies at Grand Teatret. That screening was a WIFT Denmark event with a discussion afterward. The film is a dark comedy written and directed by Paola Cortellesi, who also plays the lead. It follows the story of Delia in the post second world war Italy. Delia is in an abusive marriage and a mother of three. She works at multiple jobs in addition to her domestic chores and taking care of her father-in-law. She seems to have a crush on a car mechanic, Nino, who also likes her. Toward the end of the film, Nino asks Delia to run away with him. On the last day the film depicts, we see Delia trying to find a way to escape her house. As the audience (at least most of us at the screening that day), given all the challenges you have seen in Delia’s life, you think she decided to take Nino’s offer and root for their escape. Instead, the film concludes with a more satisfying ending: Delia, despite her husband and with the help of her daughter, going to the voting booth together with all the women in the film, all voting for the first time on June 2, 1946.

 

I binge-watched Sirens in two evenings at home with a friend, who was visiting from US, a month after I watched C'è ancora domani. Sirens has been the highlight of the TV this year for me, and not only because of the topic of this post. Here, I will only focus on what is relevant for this post. Written by Molly Smith Metzler, Sirens follows the estranged sisters Devon and Simon. Devon is taking care of their father who is recently diagnosed with dementia, while Simon seems to have her dream job working and living in a mansion. Devon is an addict and has been having a hard time with all her responsibilities, so she decides to seek help from Simon, who she practically raised. On the island where Simon works, she meets a yacht captain, whose name, Captain Morgan, becomes one of the running jokes in the show. Captain Morgan and Devon hit it off. In similar spirit to Nino in C'è ancora domani, toward the end, Captain Morgan asks Devon to leave her life and come with him on yacht trip that will last a month. Simon encourages Devon to take the trip and live her life for a change instead of taking care of other people. You, as the audience, root for Devon to take the trip as well, especially after learning their family history. In the end, Devon decides to stay with her father but with some changes in her life so that she does not get as overwhelmed. She owns her decision so well when Simon challenges it that you, as the audience, are convinced she will be alright. Simon, in contrast, after rejecting one older rich guy’s marriage proposal due to him playing the role of the savior, accepts an even richer older guy’s proposal who is the ultimate savior figure at that point in the series.

 

In recent years, similar to the two above, we have seen great examples of movies and TV series that do not end with happy “coupled” or “saved-by-love” ending.

Greta Gerwig’s Little Women has a double ending that shows that Jo’s marriage to Friedrich was added afterwards in the book due to the publisher asking for it, which is what happened in real-life to Louisa May Alcott. Her Barbie ends with Barbie and Ken separating to have their independent journeys. Even before she became a director, some of Greta Gerwig’s earlier writing collaborations had similar spirit such as the brilliant Frances Ha.

In Russian Doll, what saves Nadia is not “finding love” but “camaraderie.”

Fleabag season 2 ends with our main character alone, despite finding love shortly before. The last scene acknowledges the grief that comes with the end of a love story but also assures us that our main character will be alright.

And Just Like That... ends with Carrie typing the following ending to her first novel, “The woman realized she was not alone—she was on her own.” While it was apparently not so popular for many, I think that ending was the best part of that revival.

My intension with these examples is not to indicate that an ending where people find love and end up as a couple is a bad ending. There are many love stories that I absolutely love; most recently, A Big Bold Beautiful Journey. I give these examples because alternative endings matter to help break the indoctrination. They make it easier to see that different “happy” lives are possible also in real life or to see that the end of a love story, while sad, isn’t a tragedy, what matters more is that that story was a part of your life.

 

The Summer of VLDB 2021

 

Note: An account of the lessons learned while organizing and running a hybrid conference like VLDB 2021 can be found here. This post is an account of some of my personal experiences being the general co-chair of that conference.

 

In 2018, when I agreed to be part of the organizing team of VLDB 2021, I knew it would be a lot of work, even without the pandemic none of us knew about yet. It is not considered wise to take on such a responsibility when someone is at the academic age I was at back then. But I wanted to learn how conference organization works. Even though this post focuses on the challenges I have been through as the general co-chair of VLDB 2021, I want to emphasize that I don’t regret my decision, and I am proud of what we achieved with the whole organizing team. VLDB 2021 was the first hybrid conference in the database community and was the first to bring people together in person after a series of online conferences due to COVID-19.

 

Being the general chair of VLDB 2021 made me …

… eat my first (and last) non-vegetarian burger since I became a vegetarian in 2017.

… stop using a computer mouse.

… disable all the email notifications on my phone.

… get more familiar with ladybugs.

 

Putting aside all the hard work that came before, from July 14, 2021, till the end of VLDB 2021 (August 20, 2021), I worked almost full-time on VLDB.

During this period, I remember some days being like I am in my own Barbieland. Those were the days when I struck a routine of going to the beach to swim and read in the mornings and started working around noon on VLDB, which continued till late evening. But there were also days that felt miserable, when I felt all my batteries were empty. The empty batteries were not just due to VLDB but also a result of the COVID days.

As previous post also mentioned, after each COVID shot, I had fever and nausea for a day and lack of energy for a few days. In general, getting ill from time to time is part of life. The solution is to take some time off and get some rest to recover. The problem in this case was that I still had to work on VLDB 2021 full time and had no luxury to take the break that I desperately needed.

The day after my first COVID shot, we had to meet the folks at Tivoli Hotel, the venue for VLDB 2021. I had to be physically present in the meeting despite still feeling the after-effects of the vaccine. The meeting went OK, but our communication with the Audio-Visual (AV) team of the venue was sub-optimal from my perspective. They were suggesting a setup that I thought was unnecessarily complicated. I was upset with myself for not talking with more bravado (even though I hate the word bravado) while raising my concerns. But I also thought that this is their area of expertise, and I should respect it. Plus, I had my post-covid-shot lack of energy. Furthermore, they requested to be informed about the exact schedule by the end of the week if we didn't want to be overcharged for the AV equipment and staff (this meeting was taking place on a Thursday). Considering the many unknowns due to the hybrid nature of the conference, COVID restrictions, and our overall budget, this was something that panicked me. We were set for the conference days, but the workshop programs were still unknown. I had to somehow contact all the workshop organizers and receive the expected start and end times for each workshop in a few days. Keep in mind that (1) due to unstable COVID travel restrictions in those days, we allowed workshop organizers to be flexible with their hours and format, and (2) as all this was happening in the middle of the summer, not all workshop organizers could be responsive to emails.

On the bus 5C (for people familiar with Istanbul buses, 5C is like the 500T of Copenhagen) returning home after this meeting, in my head building a TODO list for that day’s VLDB emails, shortly before my stop, I noticed that my house keys weren’t on me.

My TODO list now forming fireworks in my head, and my body drained and starving, I stood at the entrance of the street I lived in looking at my apartment building that I cannot enter. The first thought I had was “I need an IV-drip.” What followed was a question: “What is the food that is closest to an IV-drip.” My head slowly turned to, now closed down, Café Vivaldi on the same street and answered, “a burger?” I can’t claim that my logic from that moment checks out, and my stomach was not happy a few hours later, but at that time, this made sense to me.

I entered Café Vivaldi, headed to the bar, ordered a non-vegetarian burger, as a vegetarian person, and non-iced water, despite the waiter insisting “it will be too warm”, and asked for the wifi password. I then sat down at one of the tables.

A year after I moved to Denmark, I gave my extra keys to Sister in Movies, so I texted her. I knew she was in Denmark just back from holidays a few days ago. Then, I reached my backpack to get my laptop out to start with the emails. There was a ladybug on my backpack. There were ladybugs on a lot of my things that summer.  

 

Before I moved to Denmark, I rarely saw ladybugs. I know in many places they are associated with luck; their Turkish name is “luck beetle.” When you occasionally come across them, it is therefore natural to have positive feelings upon seeing them. But when an army of them starts kamikazeing into your body on a Danish beach or when you stop counting how many are on your bedroom window after the 7^th, you associate them less with luck and more with bugs. Or you question whether this why Denmark is such a privileged country compared to your homeland, where you rarely saw ladybugs. You also realize that not all ladybugs come with bright red color; some look a shade of pink giving the impression that they have been through many washers and dryers in their lifetime. The summer of VLDB 2021, stopping to observe ladybugs was my main procrastination.

 

Seeing the ladybug on my backpack turned my VLDB TODO list from fireworks into an ordered list in my head, and I started going over the list calmly and kept at it while eating. After I finished my burger, I had a reply from Sister in Movies. She was at work but said she was ok to go home early, so that I could fetch my extra keys. When I got back home with my extra keys, I found the lost keys in the door lock.

When I met Sister in Movies for dinner the week after, after greetings, she said, “You look better today.”

 

Due to my overall bad posture and lack of interest in sports since high school, my right shoulder often acted up in my early 30s. The summer of VLDB 2021, the combination of long-stretches of sitting while answering emails and the shoulder movements one does when using a computer mouse while dealing with various excel sheets for the conference program, budget, etc. amplified the pain in my right shoulder. I could no longer sleep on my right side some weeks before VLDB. Ironically, these days I have harder time sleeping on my left side instead but due to a completely different matter.

The immediate step I took to fix my right shoulder was to go to an osteopath so that they put me back together. The long-term steps were ordering a keyboard with a touchpad so that I eliminate computer mice from my life and going to the gym regularly for yoga and strength-building (“stram op” in Danish) courses. The latter step took longer to establish, since the will to do sports doesn’t come to me naturally. This is also ironic, since there was a time when I was a kid, I wanted to become a basketball player.

 

The summer of VLDB 2021 was also the summer of 2020 Tokyo Olympics, which was postponed to summer 2021 due to the pandemic. The theme of Olympics was all around me as I was dealing with the barrage of VLDB emails. One day, I wrote to Philippe Bonnet (my VLDB 2021 general co-chair), “i feel like i am in olympics in the category of ‘writing emails’.” Shortly after, I disabled all the email notifications on my phone, and I have kept them disabled since. This doesn’t mean that I stopped checking emails on my phone. I still do this check unnecessarily often and am trying to reduce this behavior but can’t claim success so far.

 

Finally, let’s get to VLDB 2021 itself.

 

During the, not-Barbieland, miserable days of that summer, several loved ones told me “It will all be over once the conference starts." The day before the first day of the conference, when I saw Peter Boncz, he told me “It is now starting.” That was the moment I realized everyone, except for Peter, was lying to me to make me feel better.

The first day of the conference was mayhem. First, the complicated AV setup that I wasn’t a big fan of failed during the first sessions of the workshops. Philippe and I took the decision to switch to the simpler setup that I was proposing in that meeting with the AV folk. Then, I remember sending emails and messages almost non-stop throughout the day.

By the time it was dinner time, I wished someone would take care of dinner for me. We had a reception on the second day and conference banquet on the third day but nothing for the first day, and I had to eat. I wish I wished for something else, because shortly after my wish, Philippe and I received an email from Divesh Srivastava inviting us to dinner at one of the conference hotel restaurants. During this dinner, he also simply ordered everything for me, sparing me from extra decisions. While, under normal circumstances, I want a lot more agency on what I eat and drink, that day this was exactly what I needed. I had no brain power left to think about food, and I still had to monitor the late-evening online sessions after dinner. Bless Divesh!!

After that first day, things got gradually better. When Peter asked me how I was doing the last day of the conference, I could reply “better than yesterday.”

 

Because of the hybrid nature of the conference and wanting to have a program for all the regions of the world, our schedule stretched from 7am to 11pm Copenhagen time. The early morning and late evening sessions were online-only, but someone still had to overlook them, which was a task Philippe and I shared. Thus, we both stayed at the conference hotel to more easily cover these hours. I remember feeling very hungry during those early and late sessions and snacking the Swiss chocolate Academic Sister brought with her to the conference for me. Bless her as well!

 

Overall, I cannot say that I experienced much of the actual conference content that year, as I could only attend the plenary sessions and Greek Bro’s talk in one of the parallel sessions. On the other hand, the attendees in Copenhagen seemed happy with the in-person experience after so many online events and being stuck at home for too long. I am glad that we pushed for the hybrid event instead of online-only despite all the unknowns of the pandemic and changing rules and regulations. It was a welcome challenge for me, and I learned a lot in the process.

Huge thanks to everyone who contributed to VLDB 2021!