I am no designer, nope, no way. My dad was, which is kind of an interesting way to grow up. I had to figure out what it is my dad did and why it was important.
Ja nisam dizajner, nikako. Moj otac je to bio, pa je odrastanje bilo zanimljivo. Morao sam da shvatim šta je moj otac radio i zašto je to bilo važno.
Dad talked a lot about bad design when we were growing up, you know, "Bad design is just people not thinking, John," he would say whenever a kid would be injured by a rotary lawn mower or, say, a typewriter ribbon would get tangled or an eggbeater would get jammed in the kitchen.
Dok smo odrastali, tata je mnogo pričao o lošem dizajnu, kao: "Loš dizajn je kad ljudi prosto ne misle, Džone", govorio bi kad god bi kosilica povredila neko dete ili kada bi se traka u pisaćoj mašini zamrsila ili kada bi mutilica za jaje zaribala.
You know, "Design -- bad design, there's just no excuse for it. It's letting stuff happen without thinking about it. Every object should be about something, John. It should imagine a user. It should cast that user in a story starring the user and the object.
"Dizajn -- loš dizajn, za to jednostavno nema opravdanja. To je kad dozvolite da se stvari dese, a da ne razmišljate o njima. Svaka stvar mora da oslikava nešto, Džone. Mora da zamisli korisnika. Mora da dodeli ulogu korisniku u priči gde su glavni korisnik i objekat.
Good design," my dad said, "is about supplying intent." That's what he said.
Otac bi govorio: "Dobar dizajn obezbeđuje nameru." To je ono što je rekao.
Dad helped design the control panels for the IBM 360 computer. That was a big deal; that was important. He worked for Kodak for a while; that was important. He designed chairs and desks and other office equipment for Steelcase; that was important. I knew design was important in my house because, for heaven's sake, it put food on our table, right?
Tata je pomagao u dizajniranju kontrolnih panela za kompjutere IBM 360. To je bilo nešto veliko, važno. Radio je jedno vreme za Kodak; to je bilo važno. Za Steelcase je dizajnirao stolice, radne stolove i drugu kancelarijsku opremu; to je bilo važno. Znam da je bavljenje dizajnom bilo važno u mojoj kući, pobogu, od toga smo živeli, zar ne?
And design was in everything my dad did. He had a Dixieland jazz band when we were growing up, and he would always cover Louis Armstrong tunes. And I would ask him every once in a while,
Kreativnost je bila u svemu što je tata radio. Dok smo odrastali, imao je jednu Diksilend džez grupu i on bi uvek svirao melodije Luja Armstronga. Povremeno bih ga zapitao:
"Dad, do you want it to sound like the record?" We had lots of old jazz records lying around the house. And he said, "No, never, John, never. The song is just a given, that's how you have to think about it. You gotta make it your own. You gotta design it. Show everyone what you intend," is what he said. "Doing that, acting by design, is what we all should be doing. It's where we all belong."
"Tata, da li bi hteo da to zvuči kao sa ploče?" Imali smo mnogo ploča sa džez muzikom svuda po kući. A on je rekao: "Ne, nikad, Džone, nikad. O pesmi moraš da misliš kao da je ona samo zadata tema. Moraš je učiniti svojom. Moraš da je kreiraš. Pokaži svima šta nameravaš," rekao je on. "Takvo delovanje, kroz dizajn, je ono što svi treba da radimo. Tu pripadamo."
All of us? Designers? Oh, oh, Dad. Oh, Dad.
Svi mi? Dizajneri? Oh, oh, tata.
The song is just a given. It's how you cover it that matters. Well, let's hold on to that thought for just a minute. It's kind of like this wheelchair I'm in, right? The original tune? It's a little scary.
Pesma je samo zadata. Bitno je kako je pokrivaš. Vratićemo se na tu misao za neki minut. To je nešto kao ova kolica u kojima sam ja, zar ne? Originalna melodija? Malo je zastrašujuće.
"Ooh, what happened to that dude? He can't walk. Anybody know the story? Anybody?"
"Jao, šta se desilo onom tipu? Ne može da hoda. Zna li neko zašto? Bilo ko?"
I don't like to talk about this very much, but I'll tell you guys the story today. All right, exactly 36 years ago this week, that's right, I was in a poorly designed automobile that hit a poorly designed guardrail on a poorly designed road in Pennsylvania, and plummeted down a 200-foot embankment and killed two people in the car. But ever since then, the wheelchair has been a given in my life. My life, at the mercy of good design and bad design.
Ne volim baš mnogo da pričam o ovome, ali vama ću danas ispričati priču. Ove nedelje sam, pre tačno 36 godina, bio u loše dizajniranom automobilu koji je udario u loše dizajniranu zaštitnu ogradu, na jadno dizajniranom putu u Pensilvaniji i srušio se niz 60m nasipa i dvoje ljudi u kolima je poginulo. Od tada su invalidska kolica u mom životu. Moj život je u milosti dobrog i lošeg dizajna.
Think about it. Now, in design terms, a wheelchair is a very difficult object. It mostly projects tragedy and fear and misfortune, and it projects that message, that story, so strongly that it almost blots out anything else.
Zamislite to. U smislu dizajna, kolica su veoma složen objekat. Uglavnom usmeravaju na tragediju i strah i nesreću i tako snažno projektuju tu poruku, tu priču, da skoro brišu sve ostalo.
I roll swiftly through an airport, right? And moms grab their kids out of the way and say, "Don't stare!" The poor kid, you know, has this terrified look on his face, God knows what they think. And for decades, I'm going, why does this happen? What can I do about it? How can I change this? I mean there must be something. So I would roll, I'd make no eye contact -- just kinda frown, right? Or I'd dress up really, really sharply or something. Or I'd make eye contact with everyone -- that was really creepy; that didn't work at all. (Laughter) You know anything, I'd try. I wouldn't shower for a week -- nothing worked.
Lagano se kotrljam po aerodromu, zar ne? I mame grabe svoju decu s mog puta i govore: "Ne zuri!" Jadno dete ima ovaj užasnuti pogled na svom licu, bog zna šta misli. I tako decenijama, zašto se ovo dešava? Šta mogu da učinim? Kako to mogu da promenim? Mora da postoji nešto. Tako bih se kotrljao, ne pogledavši nikog u oči -- kao neki mrgud, zar ne? Ili bih se obukao u nešto zaista upadljivo. Ili bih svakog gledao u oči -- bilo je to zaista jezivo; uopšte nije uspevalo. (Smeh) Svašta sam pokušavao. Ne bih se tuširao nedelju dana -- ali ništa nije vredelo.
Nothing whatsoever worked until a few years ago, my six-year-old daughters were looking at this wheelchair catalog that I had, and they said,
Ništa nije vredelo do pre nekoliko godina, kada su moje šestogodišnje ćerke gledale u katalog za kolica, i rekle:
"Oh, Dad! Dad! Look, you gotta get these, these flashy wheels -- you gotta get 'em!"
"Tata, tata! Vidi, ovo moraš da nabaviš, ove svetlucave točkove -- moraš da ih nabaviš!"
And I said, "Oh, girls, Dad is a very important journalist, that just wouldn't do at all."
A ja sam rekao: "Joj, curice, tata je jako važan novinar, ovo uopšte ne bi valjalo."
And of course, they immediately concluded,
One su, naravno, odmah zaključile:
"Oh, what a bummer, Dad. Journalists aren't allowed to have flashy wheels. I mean, how important could you be then?" they said.
"Jao, kakva šteta, tata. Novinari ne smeju imati svetlucave točkove. Kako bi onda bio važan?", rekle su.
I went, "Wait a minute, all right, right -- I'll get the wheels." Purely out of protest,
"Čekajte samo tren, u redu, u redu, kupiću te točkove." Baš iz inata
I got the flashy wheels, and I installed them and -- check this out. Could I have my special light cue please? (Laughter) Look at that! Now ... look at, look at this! Look at this!
kupio sam svetlucave točkove, montirao ih -- vidite. Da li možete sad da podesite svetla? (Smeh) Vidite ovo! I ovo, i ovo! Vidite!
So what you are looking at here has completely changed my life, I mean totally changed my life. Instead of blank stares and awkwardness, now it is pointing and smiling!
Ono što sada gledate potpuno je promenilo moj život, mislim skroz mi je promenilo život. Umesto praznih pogleda i neprijatnosti, sad pokazuju na mene i smeju se!
People going, "Awesome wheels, dude! Those are awesome! I mean, I want some of those wheels!" Little kids say, "Can I have a ride?" (Laughter)
Kažu: "Fenomenalni točkovi, frajeru! Baš su super! I ja hoću takve!" Klinci kažu: "Mogu li da se provozam?" (Smeh)
And of course there's the occasional person -- usually a middle-aged male who will say, "Oh, those wheels are great! I guess they're for safety, right?" (Laughter) No! They're not for safety. No, no, no, no, no.
Tu su i, kao slučajno, obično muškarci srednjih godina, koji kažu: "Ti točkovi su sjajni! To je zbog bezbednosti, je l' ?" (Smeh) Ne! Nisu zbog bezbednosti. Ne, ne.
What's the difference here, the wheelchair with no lights and the wheelchair with lights? The difference is intent. That's right, that's right; I'm no longer a victim. I chose to change the situation -- I'm the Commander of the Starship Wheelchair with the phaser wheels in the front. Right? Intent changes the picture completely. I choose to enhance this rolling experience with a simple design element. Acting with intent. It conveys authorship. It suggests that someone is driving. It's reassuring; people are drawn to it. Someone making the experience their own. Covering the tragic tune with something different, something radically different. People respond to that.
U čemu je razlika između kolica bez svetla i kolica sa svetlima? Razlika je u nameri. Tako je. Više nisam žrtva. Rešio sam da promenim situaciju -- Ja sam komandant svemirskog broda "Kolica", koji ima prednje fazne točkove. Je l' tako? Namera potpuno menja sliku. Rešio sam da poboljšam ovo iskustvo kotrljanja jednim jednostavnim kreativnim elementom. Postupanje sa namerom. Ovo se već odnosi na autorsko pravo. Sugeriše da neko vozi. Ubeđuje, privlači ljude. Neko stvara sopstveno iskustvo. Pokriva tragičnu melodiju nečim što je drugačije, nečim što je iz korena različito. Ljudi reaguju na to.
Now it seems simple, but actually I think in our society and culture in general, we have a huge problem with intent. Now go with me here. Look at this guy. You know who this is? It's Anders Breivik. Now, if he intended to kill in Olso, Norway last year, dozens and dozens of young people -- if he intended to do that, he's a vicious criminal. We punish him. Life in prison. Death penalty in the United States, not so much in Norway. But, if he instead acted out of a delusional fantasy, if he was motivated by some random mental illness, he's in a completely different category. We may put him away for life, but we watch him clinically. It's a completely different domain. As an intentional murderer, Anders Breivik is merely evil. But as a dysfunctional, as a dysfunctional murderer/psychotic, he's something much more complicated. He's the breath of some primitive, ancient chaos. He's the random state of nature we emerged from. He's something very, very different.
Sada izgleda jednostavno, ali u stvari mislim da u našem društvu i kulturi uopšte, imamo veliki problem sa namerom. Hajdete sad. Pogledajte ovog tipa. Znate li ko je on? Anders Brejvik. Ako mu je namera bila da ubije u Oslu, u Norveškoj, prošle godine, na desetine mladih ljudi, ako mu je to bila namera, onda je on opasan kriminalac. Kažnjavamo ga. Život u zatvoru. Smrtna kazna postoji u Sjedinjenim Državama, ali ne i u Norveškoj. Ali, ako je postupio tako zbog poremećene fantazije, ako je motivisan nekom mentalnom bolešću, onda on spada u sasvim različitu kategoriju. Možemo ga skloniti doživotno, ali posmatramo ga klinički. To je sasvim različiti domen. Kao ubica sa namerom, Anders Brejvik je samo zlo. Ali kao disfunkcionalni, kao disufnkcionalni psihotični ubica, onda je već mnogo komplikovaniji. On je dah nekog primitivnog, drevnog haosa. On je zalutalo stanje prirode iz koje smo nastali. On je nešto mnogo, mnogo drugačije.
It's as though intent is an essential component for humanity. It's what we're supposed to do somehow. We're supposed to act with intent. We're supposed to do things by design. Intent is a marker for civilization.
Kao da je namera suštinska komponenta čovečanstva. To bi trebalo nekako da činimo. Da postupamo sa namerom. Da kreiramo stvari. Namera je oznaka civilizacije.
Now here's an example a little closer to home: My family is all about intent. You can probably tell there are two sets of twins, the result of IVF technology, in vitro fertilization technology, due to some physical limitations I won't go into. Anyway, in vitro technology, IVF, is about as intentional as agriculture. Let me tell you, some of you may have the experience. In fact, the whole technology of sperm extraction for spinal cord-injured males was invented by a veterinarian. I met the dude. He's a great guy. He carried this big leather bag full of sperm probes for all of the animals that he'd worked with, all the different animals. Probes he designed, and in fact, he was really, really proud of these probes.
Evo neki bliži primer: moja porodica je sva u namerama. Možete videti da su tu dva para blizanaca, koji su rezultat veštačke oplodnje, zbog nekih fizičkih ograničenja o kojima sad neću govoriti. Svakako, in vitro tehnologija je namerna, koliko i poljoprivreda. Da vam kažem, možda neki od vas znaju da je celu tehnologiju vađenja sperme kod mužjaka sa oštećenom kičmenom moždinom izumeo veterinar. Upoznao sam tipa. Sjajan momak. Nosio je veliku kožnu torbu sa sondama za sve životinje sa kojima je radio, za različite životinje. On je dizajnirao sonde i zaista je bio ponosan na njih.
He would say, "You're right between horse and squirrel, John." (Laughter) But anyway, so when my wife and I decided to upgrade our early middle age -- we had four kids, after all -- with a little different technology that I won't explain in too much detail here -- my urologist assured me I had nothing whatsoever to worry about.
Govorio bi: "Džone, ti si između konja i veverice." (Smeh) Svakako, kada smo moja supruga i ja odlučili da unapredimo rane srednje godine -- imali smo već četvoro dece -- sa malo drugačijom tehnologijom koju neću sada mnogo objašnjavati -- moj urolog me je uveravao da nemam o čemu da brinem.
"No need for birth control, Doc, are you sure about that?"
"Doco, siguran si da nema potrebe za kontracepcijom?"
"John, John, I looked at your chart. From your sperm tests we can confidently say that you're basically a form of birth control."
"Džone, Džone gledao sam tvoj karton. Na osnovu testiranja tvoje sperme možemo pouzdano da tvrdimo da si ti praktično kontraceptiv."
Well! (Laughter) What a liberating thought! Yes! And after a couple very liberating weekends, my wife and I, utilizing some cutting-edge erectile technology that is certainly worthy of a TEDTalk someday but I won't get into it now, we noticed some familiar, if unexpected, symptoms. I wasn't exactly a form of birth control. Look at that font there. My wife was so pissed.
"Pa, dobro!" (Smeh) Kakva oslobađajuća misao! Da! Posle nekoliko veoma "oslobađajućih" vikenda, moja supruga i ja, koristeći neke najsavremenije erektilne tehnologije koje zaslužuju neki TEDTalk, ali neću sad o tome, primetili smo neke poznate, neočekivane simptome. Nisam baš bio kontraceptivno sredstvo. Vidite ova slova ovde. Moja žena je bila jako besna.
I mean, did a designer come up with that? No, I don't think a designer did come up with that. In fact, maybe that's the problem. And so, little Ajax was born. He's like our other children, but the experience is completely different. It's something like my accident, right? He came out of nowhere. But we all had to change, but not just react to the given; we bend to this new experience with intent. We're five now. Five. Facing the given with intent. Doing things by design. Hey, the name Ajax -- you can't get much more intentional than that, right? We're really hoping he thanks us for that later on. (Laughter)
Da li je to dostignuće dizajnera? Ne, mislim da nije. U stvari, možda je to problem. I tako, rodio se mali Ajaks. On je kao i ostala naša deca, ali iskustvo je potpuno drugačije. To je kao ona moja nesreća, zar ne? Pojavio se niotkud. Ali svi smo morali da se promenimo, a ne samo da reagujemo na "zadato", povinuli smo se ovom iskustvu sa namerom. Sad nas je petoro. Petoro. Suočavanje sa zadatim sa namerom. Radeći stvari kroz dizajn. Hej, pa ime Ajaks -- može li biti išta namernije od toga? Stvarno se nadamo da će nam kasnije biti zahvalan za to. (Smeh)
But I never became a designer. No, no, no, no. Never attempted. Never even close. I did love some great designs as I was growing up: The HP 35S calculator -- God, I loved that thing. Oh God, I wish I had one. Man, I love that thing. I could afford that. Other designs I really couldn't afford, like the 1974 911 Targa. In school, I studied nothing close to design or engineering; I studied useless things like the Classics, but there were some lessons even there -- this guy, Plato, it turns out he's a designer. He designed a state in "The Republic," a design never implemented. Listen to one of the design features of Plato's Government 4.0:
Ali ja nikad nisam postao dizajner. Ne, ne. Nikad nisam ni pokušao. Nisam bio ni blizu. Stvarno sam voleo neka velika kreativna ostvarenja dok sam odrastao. Ovaj HP35S digitron -- bože, kako sam voleo tu stvar. O bože, kako bih voleo da ga imam opet. Čoveče, volim taj digitron. Mogao bih da ga priuštim. Druga dizajnerska ostvarenja ne bih mogao da priuštim, na primer Targu 911 iz 1974. U školi nisam učio ništa slično dizajnu i inženjeringu; učio sam beskorisne stvari, kao što je klasicizam, ali čak i tamo je bilo lekcija -- ovaj tip, Platon, ispostavilo se da je on dizajner. On je osmislio državu u "Republici", kreaciju, koja se nikad nije primenila. Slušajte jednu od karakteristika koje je kreirao u četvrtom obliku vladavine:
"The State in which the rulers are most reluctant to govern is always the best and most quietly governed, and the State in which they are most eager, the worst."
"Država u kojoj vladari najviše oklevaju da vladaju je uvek najbolje i najmirnije vođena, a najgora je država ona, u kojoj su vladari najželjniji vladavine."
Well, got that wrong, didn't we? But look at that statement; it's all about intent. That's what I love about it. But consider what Plato is doing here. What is he doing? It's a grand idea of design -- a huge idea of design, common to all of the voices of religion and philosophy that emerged in the Classical period. What was going on then? They were trying to answer the question of what would human beings do now that they were no longer simply trying to survive? As the human race emerged from a prehistoric chaos, a confrontation with random, brutal nature, they suddenly had a moment to think -- and there was a lot to think about. All of a sudden, human existence needed an intent. Human life needed a reason. Reality itself needed a designer. The given was replaced by various aspects of intent, by various designs, by various gods. Gods we're still fighting about. Oh yeah.
Pa, ovo nismo dobro razumeli, zar ne? A ta izjava je skroz o nameri. Zato je volim. Hajde da razmotrimo šta Platon radi ovde. Šta radi? To je velika ideja kreativnosti, ogromna, uobičajena za sve religijske i filozofske izjave koje se javljaju u periodu klasicizma. Šta se tada dešavalo? Pokušavali su da odgovore na pitanje šta da ljudi rade sada, kada više ne pokušavaju samo da prežive? Kako je ljudska rasa izašla iz praistorijskog haosa, iz sukoba sa surovom prirodom, iznenada su imali trenutak za razmišljanje -- a trebalo je razmišljati o mnogo čemu. Iznenada, za opstanak ljudske rase, bila je potrebna namera. Ljudskom postojanju je bio potreban razlog. Stvarnosti je bio potreban kreator. Ono zadato je zamenjeno raznim vidovima namere, raznim kreacijama uz pomoć raznih bogova. Još uvek vodimo rat u vezi bogova. Da, da.
Today we don't confront the chaos of nature. Today it is the chaos of humanity's impact on the Earth itself that we confront. This young discipline called design, I think, is in fact the emerging ethos formulating and then answering a very new question: What shall we do now in the face of the chaos that we have created? What shall we do? How shall we inscribe intent on all the objects we create, on all the circumstances we create, on all the places we change? The consequences of a planet with 7 billion people and counting. That's the tune we're all covering today, all of us. And we can't just imitate the past. No. That won't do. That won't do at all.
Danas se ne sukobljavamo sa haosom u prirodi. Danas se sukobljavamo sa haosom ljudskog uticaja na Zemlju. Ova nova disciplina koja je nazvana dizajn, u stvari je etos, koji izranja, oblikuje, a zatim odgovara na sasvim novo pitanje: Šta ćemo raditi sada pred haosom koji smo stvorili? Šta da radimo? Kako ćemo zapisati nameru na svim objektima koje kreiramo, oko svih okolnosti koje kreiramo, na svim mestima koja menjamo? Posledice su po planetu sa 7 milijardi ljudi i više. Tu melodiju pokrivamo danas svi mi. Ne možemo samo da imitiramo prošlost. Ne. To neće ići. To uopšte neće ići.
Here's my favorite design moment: In the city of Kinshasa in Zaire in the 1990s, I was working for ABC News, and I was reporting on the fall of Mobutu Sese Seko, the dictator, the brutal dictator in Zaire, who raped and pillaged that country. There was rioting in the middle of Kinshasa. The place was falling apart; it was a horrible, horrible place, and I needed to go and explore the center of Kinshasa to report on the rioting and the looting. People were carrying off vehicles, carrying off pieces of buildings. Soldiers were in the streets shooting at looters and herding some in mass arrests. In the middle of this chaos, I'm rolling around in a wheelchair, and I was completely invisible. Completely. I was in a wheelchair; I didn't look like a looter. I was in a wheelchair; I didn't look like a journalist, particularly, at least from their perspective. And I didn't look like a soldier, that's for sure. I was part of this sort of background noise of the misery of Zaire, completely invisible. And all of a sudden, from around a corner, comes this young man, paralyzed, just like me, in this metal and wood and leather pedal, three-wheel tricycle-wheelchair device, and he pedals up to me as fast as he can.
Evo moj omiljeni momenat kreativnosti: u gradu Kinšasa, u Zairu, 1990-ih godina, radio sam za ABC News, izveštavao sam o padu diktatora Mobutu Sesea Seka, brutalnog diktatora u Zairu, koji je silovao i pljačkao zemlju. Bili su nemiri usred Kinšase. Mesto se raspadalo, bilo je to užasno, užasno mesto i morao sam da odem da istražim centar Kinšase, da bih izvestio o pobuni i pljačkanju. Ljudi su odnosili vozila, delove građevina. Vojnici su bili na ulicama, pucali u pljačkaše i masovno hapsili. Usred ovog haosa, ja se vozikam okolo u invalidskim kolicima i potpuno sam nevidljiv. Sasvim. Bio sam u kolicima, nisam ličio na pljačkaša. Bio sam u kolicima, sigurno nisam ličio na novinara, naročito ne iz njihove perspektive. A nisam ličio ni na vojnika, sigurno. Bio sam samo deo pozadinske buke nesrećnog Zaira, potpuno nevidljiv. I sasvim iznenada, iza ugla se pojavljuje ovaj mladić, paralizovan kao i ja, u ovim metalno-drveno-kožnim tricikl invalidskim kolicima i vozi prema meni, najbrže što može.
He goes, "Hey, mister! Mister!"
Viče: "Hej, gospodine! Gospodine!"
And I looked at him -- he didn't know any other English than that, but we didn't need English, no, no, no, no, no. We sat there and compared wheels and tires and spokes and tubes. And I looked at his whacky pedal mechanism; he was full of pride over his design. I wish I could show you that contraption. His smile, our glow as we talked a universal language of design, invisible to the chaos around us. His machine: homemade, bolted, rusty, comical. My machine: American-made, confident, sleek. He was particularly proud of the comfortable seat, really comfortable seat he had made in his chariot and its beautiful fabric fringe around the edge. Oh, I wish I'd had those sparkly wheels back then to have shown him, man! He would have loved those! Oh yeah. He would have understood those; a chariot of pure intent -- think about it -- in a city out of control. Design blew it all away for a moment. We spoke for a few minutes and then each of us vanished back into the chaos. He went back to the streets of Kinshasa; I went to my hotel. And I think of him now, now ...
Pogledao sam ga -- ništa drugo na engleskom nije znao sem toga, ali nam engleski nije ni trebao, ne, ne,ne. Sedeli smo tamo i upoređivali točkove i gume i žbice i cevi. Gledao sam u njegov šašavi mehanizam sa pedalama. On je bio veoma ponosan na svoj dizajn. Voleo bih da mogu da vam pokažem tu čudnu napravu. Osmeh tog mladića, naš žar, dok smo govorili univerzalnim jezikom dizajna, dok smo bili nevidljivi tom haosu oko nas. Njegova mašina: domaća izrada, pričvršćena šrafovima, zarđala, komična. Moja mašina: američka proizvodnja, pouzdana, doterana. Mladić je bio naročito ponosan na udobno sedište, zaista udobno sedište koje je napravio na svojoj kočiji i na lep porub oko ivice sedišta. Eh, da sam bar mogao da mu pokažem te svetlucave točkove, čoveče! Sigurno bi mu se dopali! Da, da. On bi to razumeo, kočija od čiste namere -- zamislite -- u gradu bez kontrole. Kreativnost je sve to oduvala na tren. Pričali smo nekoliko minuta, a zatim smo ponovo nestali u haosu. On se vratio na ulice Kinšase, a ja u hotel. I razmišljam o njemu i sada ...
And I pose this question. An object imbued with intent -- it has power, it's treasure, we're drawn to it. An object devoid of intent -- it's random, it's imitative, it repels us. It's like a piece of junk mail to be thrown away. This is what we must demand of our lives, of our objects, of our things, of our circumstances: living with intent. And I have to say that on that score, I have a very unfair advantage over all of you.
Postavljam ovo pitanje. Jedan objekat prožet namerom -- on ima snagu, on je blago, on nas privlači. Objekat lišen namere -- on je slučajan, on je imitacija odbija nas. To je džank mail koji odbacujemo. Ono, što moramo zahtevati od naših života od naših stvari, od naše okoline je život sa namerom. Moram da kažem, da imam vrlo nepravednu prednost nad vama.
And I want to explain it to you now because this is a very special day. Thirty-six years ago at nearly this moment, a 19-year-old boy awoke from a coma to ask a nurse a question, but the nurse was already there with an answer.
Moram ovo da vam objasnim, jer ovo je veoma poseban dan. Tridest šest godina pre ovog momenta, jedan devetnaestogodišnjak se probudio iz kome da pita medicinsku sestru jedno pitanje, ali sestra je već bila tamo sa odgovorom:
"You've had a terrible accident, young man. You've broken your back. You'll never walk again."
"Imali ste strašnu nesreću, mladiću. Slomili ste leđa. Nikad više nećete hodati."
I said, "I know all that -- what day is it?" You see, I knew that the car had gone over the guardrail on the 28th of February, and I knew that 1976 was a leap year.
Ja sam rekao: "Znam to sve -- koji je danas dan?" Znate, znao sam da je auto probio zaštitnu ogradu 28. februara i znao sam da je 1976. prestupna godina.
"Nurse! Is this the 28th or the 29th?"
"Sestro, da li je 28. ili 29.?"
And she looked at me and said, "It's March 1st."
Pogledala me je i rekla: "Sad je 1. mart."
And I went, "Oh my God. I've got some catching up to do!" And from that moment, I knew the given was that accident; I had no option but to make up this new life without walking. Intent -- a life with intent -- lived by design, covering the original with something better. It's something for all of us to do or find a way to do in these times.
"Bože, šta sve moram da uradim!" Od tog momenta sam znao da mi je ta nesreća zadata; nisam imao drugog izbora, nego da u novom životu, živim bez hodanja. Namera -- život sa namerom -- život kroz dizajn, pokrivanje originala nečim boljim. To je nešto što svi treba da radimo ili da nađemo način postupanja u takvim vremenima.
To get back to this, to get back to design, and as my daddy suggested a long time ago,
Da se vratim na temu, da se vratim na dizajn, kao što mi je ćale davno sugerisao:
"Make the song your own, John. Show everybody what you intend."
"Učini pesmu svojom, Džone. Pokaži svima šta ti je namera."
Daddy, this one's for you. (Music)
Ćale, ova pesma je za tebe. (Muzika)
♫ Jo Jo was a man who thought he was a loner ♫ ♫ but he was another man. ♫ ♫ Jo Jo left his home in Tucson, Arizona to attend a California bash. ♫ ♫ Get back, get back, ♫ ♫ get back to where you once belonged. ♫ ♫ Get back, get back, ♫ ♫ get back to where you once belonged. ♫ (Applause)
♫ Džo Džo je mislio da je usamljenik ♫ ♫ ali je bio samo drugačiji. ♫ ♫ Napustio je svoj dom u Tusonu, u Arizoni, da bi prisustvovao pobuni u Kaliforniji.♫ ♫ Vrati se, vrati se, ♫ ♫ vrati se ovamo, gde pripadaš. ♫ ♫ Vrati se, vrati se ♫ ♫ vrati se ovamo, gde pripadaš. ♫ (Aplauz)