With the focus of Nanotexts being technology and the use of language, or rather the marriage of the two, it only made sense that book discussions were conducted online. Because the class itself was held in the first person, the assignments held online created a contrast of perspective. Interestingly, the use of in-class plurking created a larger chain of communication. The online book groups were able to take the live atmosphere of in-class discussion and combine it with the advantages of internet anonymity.
The use of the word anonymity here does not necessarily denote the ability to be entirely anonymous. However, because one is alone, there is a delay in communication. This allows an individual to gather their thoughts before sharing them with the group, creating a more focused conversation. Also, the online discussion group is automatically recorded, allowing for easy reference to any material. The online discussion group is also more democratic; there is no lecturer. This distinction was not great in Nanotexts, however, as even the in-class discussions were fairly equal, albeit with some mediation.
It seems that the only area online discussion fails to work as effectively is in allowing everyone to be heard equally, which is ironic. Though everyone has equal opportunity to share their opinion, the disconnect allows observers of the discussion to select what they will and will not read. The freedom of the internet acts as both the wings and shackles of communication. In a live group discussion, the mediator ensures that voices are heard, while at the same time, those who are uncomfortable will not speak. Online, anonymity ensures that most will speak up, while it also allows selective engagement.
When we consider the intent of technology as enhancing communication, perhaps another setting would have been more effective. Communication is not technological; technology imitates communication at varying degrees of success. A book group that was primarily in person, but utilized an online forum for elaboration of thoughts and questions that were not covered in discussion, may have spoken better to the true use of technology in literature and communication. Literature is an extension of the mind and the body. It is human, and it is full of life. We cannot make literature, or communication for that matter, rely solely on technology, much like we cannot make technology truly replace life. Thus, it should always be a secondary communication, a supplement.
Beyond this, the discussion groups show the promise of technology aiding communication in the future. If it is possible to give voice to everyone, we are as close today as ever before. The use of technology today has proven incredibly effective, from the macro to the miniscule. As we apply it to our own discussion, we can see how it creates another degree of presence; we are anonymous but collective, physically silent but given a stronger voice than we can produce with our bodies.
The future of technology and communication is much like the future of technology and anything. It is full of promise, and it is wrought with danger. We have much to gain, and we have all of humanity to lose. I believe that what will define us is yet to come, and it will likely involve our endeavors into the nano of everything. We must always cling to what makes us human, in some respect. The internet has become a haven for the fostering of our greatest ideas, and the unity of a Tech Nation. As we continue to search beyond ourselves, let us proceed with caution. If there is a meaning to life, may we never find it. And if there is not, may we always be in search.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Final - Limits
It is an interesting theory, that to understand the small we must literally write smaller, communicating in shorter, more condensed ways. There seems to be a disconnect here, but perhaps an intentional and important one. Nanotext - writing that is small, or writing of the small? The literature of this class has dealt primarily with the latter, theorizing about the future of technology and where “the small” fits in, while the assignments have had much more to do with the former. In fact, Plurk assignments and blogs are a combination of both definitions of Nanotext.
Limiting our ability to communicate fully —that is, to express something in the way we find most normal, comfortable—forces a new thought process. Consider the text message: one does not consciously leave particular words or phrases out of the message, they simply leave the key components that convey a particular meaning and the less important words are lost. However, when we are asked to make art out of condensed literature, such as the Snowball poem, the elimination of words and meaning becomes a much more conscious enterprise. In limited writing, empty space can convey as much as text itself, and art becomes more than words on paper. The task now becomes to form writing in such a way that the reader can make inferences about the meaning behind it, rather than giving the reader the problem and the solution, so to speak. In the Top Ten Searches assignment, this is particularly the case. The reader’s task is to find a connection between these phrases that makes some sense. For example,
Alex Rodriguez
Boli Steroids
Dragons
may seem entirely unrelated without the reference of current events and personal interpretation. Suddenly, we have what may be a joke about some unforeseen consequences of steroid use.
Language is simply the easiest way for us to communicate today. Considering it as only a part of communication helps remind me to always look at writing as I would a work of art: from different perspectives. This is the best way to consider the small in general; size is entirely relative. So when we observe the small, it is important that we understand the power anything can hold, regardless of the way we perceive it. This is particularly true with nanotechnology, where it is not size, but quantity that creates strength.
My writing is often full of length but lacking in depth; imposing limits on this tendency forces me to remove fragments I might normally leave in my text. This creates a more cohesive, effective transposition of my thoughts. Because language is an invention of communication, it is prone to error. More language is not always equal to better understanding, as Baudrillard and Guillaume point out in Radical Alterity. Limits are something we should always impose on our writing, if the goal is to best convey our thinking. However, in certain literary situations where style is more important than understanding, it might be more practical to allow otherwise useless extensions of text. This by no means is a suggestion that elaborate writing is useless—writing is still art. But there is a misconception that somehow longer writing is more artistic than condensed writing. With these Plurk assignments in mind, I have kept a stronger focus on my own writing.
It’s worth noting that literature has become more fast-paced in stride with technology. With much of today’s entertainment being media-oriented, literature has become more action based, or immediately gratifying in an effort to keep the reader involved. So in some instances we have begun to limit our communication, simply for expedience’s sake, but what is more important is that we understand language changes as the world around it does. And this is what we are seeing in the nano age.
Limiting our ability to communicate fully —that is, to express something in the way we find most normal, comfortable—forces a new thought process. Consider the text message: one does not consciously leave particular words or phrases out of the message, they simply leave the key components that convey a particular meaning and the less important words are lost. However, when we are asked to make art out of condensed literature, such as the Snowball poem, the elimination of words and meaning becomes a much more conscious enterprise. In limited writing, empty space can convey as much as text itself, and art becomes more than words on paper. The task now becomes to form writing in such a way that the reader can make inferences about the meaning behind it, rather than giving the reader the problem and the solution, so to speak. In the Top Ten Searches assignment, this is particularly the case. The reader’s task is to find a connection between these phrases that makes some sense. For example,
Alex Rodriguez
Boli Steroids
Dragons
may seem entirely unrelated without the reference of current events and personal interpretation. Suddenly, we have what may be a joke about some unforeseen consequences of steroid use.
Language is simply the easiest way for us to communicate today. Considering it as only a part of communication helps remind me to always look at writing as I would a work of art: from different perspectives. This is the best way to consider the small in general; size is entirely relative. So when we observe the small, it is important that we understand the power anything can hold, regardless of the way we perceive it. This is particularly true with nanotechnology, where it is not size, but quantity that creates strength.
My writing is often full of length but lacking in depth; imposing limits on this tendency forces me to remove fragments I might normally leave in my text. This creates a more cohesive, effective transposition of my thoughts. Because language is an invention of communication, it is prone to error. More language is not always equal to better understanding, as Baudrillard and Guillaume point out in Radical Alterity. Limits are something we should always impose on our writing, if the goal is to best convey our thinking. However, in certain literary situations where style is more important than understanding, it might be more practical to allow otherwise useless extensions of text. This by no means is a suggestion that elaborate writing is useless—writing is still art. But there is a misconception that somehow longer writing is more artistic than condensed writing. With these Plurk assignments in mind, I have kept a stronger focus on my own writing.
It’s worth noting that literature has become more fast-paced in stride with technology. With much of today’s entertainment being media-oriented, literature has become more action based, or immediately gratifying in an effort to keep the reader involved. So in some instances we have begun to limit our communication, simply for expedience’s sake, but what is more important is that we understand language changes as the world around it does. And this is what we are seeing in the nano age.
Final - Plurk
The concept of Plurk as a unique environment, a virtual collective of shared experiences (through the individual relation), requires more deliberation than perhaps most “outsiders” would be willing to allow it. The general, uninformed consensus appears to be that this is an unnecessary byproduct of technology, a sort of recycled form of lesser communication. However, when applied to the theory of the Other, as discussed in Radical Alterity, Plurk becomes a device suitable for becoming the Other through anonymity and code.
Plurk is in essence an extension of the self, shared. Announcements of the personal thought status are central to the function of Plurk. But the rules of normal communication do not apply. In the Plurk environment, communication is sharpened, abbreviated. The very layout of Plurk creates a concentrated space, where only specific thoughts can be shared at once. This limiting of individual elaboration creates a more efficient, collaborative machine of thought. Each individual Plurk is one node in a larger web of Superthought, a linking of small ideas forming a massive organism of information and speculation.
Now, this tends to give the impression of a program catering only to ideas of importance and other such grandiose and pretentious forms of logic. On the contrary, Plurk thrives in the superfluous, the afterthought, the illogical. It preserves the art of abstract thought, something that has been lost to the masses for quite some time. But logical conclusions have always been made by taking illogical steps.
And so we have this term, Superthought. “Super” to denote the grand, large, (at times superfluous) and “thought” an abbreviation to afterthought. The Grand Afterthought. The content discussed in Plurk is not always of relative importance to daily life, but it is the theory behind Superthought that is so exciting. We now have a real form of nanocommunication that links a larger group together. We have effectively created a communication organism. Similar to the way nanomachines such as the nants of Postsingular operate, Plurk creates a hive-mind device where each individual is one link to a greater form of communication.
Could Plurk lead to a practical use of nanocomm? Surely it is easy to imagine a scenario in which this would be helpful. Consider it’s capabilities in warfare: Hundreds, thousands of soldiers relaying small pieces of personal observation which is all linked to a program designed to organize and combine information. Imagine real-time mapping, automated tactical stratagems created not by machine but by the collaborative input of a multitude of sources. The speed of information processing would be rapid but human, the result Super but the input nano.
Plurk also has another unique quality, which is the involvement of strangers in the personal issues of another. It is common to see Plurkers discuss relatively unimportant topics with complete strangers. However, this adds to a recognized unity in the Plurk environment. In Plurk, one can address a variety of issues that might not generally appear in outside communication. This creates a haven for the taboo, a place where all topics can be discussed.
In Nanotext, the Plurk experience is informal. It is sarcastic, wry and at times confrontational. This is the play form of nanocomm, the general use of it. What is to come is the workplace form, the science form. The creation of a community in Plurk serves to create a virtual anti-standard of communication, maintaining the life of Superthought and freedom from logic. There is no doubt a connection between small and large, and Plurk is an example of the marriage of both.
Plurk is in essence an extension of the self, shared. Announcements of the personal thought status are central to the function of Plurk. But the rules of normal communication do not apply. In the Plurk environment, communication is sharpened, abbreviated. The very layout of Plurk creates a concentrated space, where only specific thoughts can be shared at once. This limiting of individual elaboration creates a more efficient, collaborative machine of thought. Each individual Plurk is one node in a larger web of Superthought, a linking of small ideas forming a massive organism of information and speculation.
Now, this tends to give the impression of a program catering only to ideas of importance and other such grandiose and pretentious forms of logic. On the contrary, Plurk thrives in the superfluous, the afterthought, the illogical. It preserves the art of abstract thought, something that has been lost to the masses for quite some time. But logical conclusions have always been made by taking illogical steps.
And so we have this term, Superthought. “Super” to denote the grand, large, (at times superfluous) and “thought” an abbreviation to afterthought. The Grand Afterthought. The content discussed in Plurk is not always of relative importance to daily life, but it is the theory behind Superthought that is so exciting. We now have a real form of nanocommunication that links a larger group together. We have effectively created a communication organism. Similar to the way nanomachines such as the nants of Postsingular operate, Plurk creates a hive-mind device where each individual is one link to a greater form of communication.
Could Plurk lead to a practical use of nanocomm? Surely it is easy to imagine a scenario in which this would be helpful. Consider it’s capabilities in warfare: Hundreds, thousands of soldiers relaying small pieces of personal observation which is all linked to a program designed to organize and combine information. Imagine real-time mapping, automated tactical stratagems created not by machine but by the collaborative input of a multitude of sources. The speed of information processing would be rapid but human, the result Super but the input nano.
Plurk also has another unique quality, which is the involvement of strangers in the personal issues of another. It is common to see Plurkers discuss relatively unimportant topics with complete strangers. However, this adds to a recognized unity in the Plurk environment. In Plurk, one can address a variety of issues that might not generally appear in outside communication. This creates a haven for the taboo, a place where all topics can be discussed.
In Nanotext, the Plurk experience is informal. It is sarcastic, wry and at times confrontational. This is the play form of nanocomm, the general use of it. What is to come is the workplace form, the science form. The creation of a community in Plurk serves to create a virtual anti-standard of communication, maintaining the life of Superthought and freedom from logic. There is no doubt a connection between small and large, and Plurk is an example of the marriage of both.
Final - Animals & Machines
In our efforts to understand the world and ourselves, to condense everything that is into human comprehension, we have continuously expanded our environment. What was once gigantic is now molecular, what we once defined as small, now has no meaning beyond human perception. Because we are relatively weak-minded in comparison to the intricacies of the universe, we cannot easily focus on multiple scales of reasoning. The problem here is, of course, that as we uncover anything “new”, we are simultaneously accessing an infinite number of scientific and technological possibilities. But because we can only focus on the discovery as we perceive it, we are incapable of foreseeing the ramifications one decision may have on the future.
Bridging the gap between animal and machine is one of the prospects that we simply do not understand. And yet, with the technological capabilities we do have, we are able to come ever closer to such a thing. The possibility of doing that which we do not understand is unsettling. But most discomforting is the theory, held by many excited researchers, that animal and machine are not so different, and that we can actually combine the two, as if it were natural evolution. This is a dangerous assertion. Animal and machine are entirely separate properties—they do not coincide.
To elaborate on this, I will outline a few key differences between animal and machine. First, animals are born of nature. They are built solely of whatever gives life. One should note, we are not capable of creating life. We are able to reproduce the living, by borrowing from the already alive. Machines, alternately, are a solely human creation. They require humans to provide, produce and sustain. They are never capable of maintaining “life” without aid, be it electricity, battery, etc. This is a human gift to the machine. Animals are given the properties they need to sustain life internally.
Following this logic, no machine or human-created product can ever be animal. As a result, we cannot build a rabbit. Recall, we can only reproduce one. The “bridging the gap” theory is thus flawed. Considering Eduardo Kac’s green rabbit as seen in Life Extreme, is it ever possible for the rabbit to become something beyond a rabbit? If it involves any machinery, then no, for this is simply a non-animal attribute that can be replaced but not reproduced. If it is a biological “upgrade”, so to speak, I believe the answer is still no, however more unclear. An animal cannot cease to be itself. It will always be as it was created in nature, until it dies.
It is not surprising that very little biomechanical engineering has been done with humans. This is a direct result of the human assumption that because other organisms are less like us, that they are less living, less deserving of the natural live given them. There are moral arguments that suggest these advances are in the best interest of the animals. But how can one organism possibly understand or decide what is the best interest of another? The only responsibility we as humans have, is to determine what is best for our species. And what is the most common objection to the engineering of ourselves? It is the thought that we are impeding upon another human’s rights. How then, are we not impeding on another organism’s natural way of life?
Humans do not fit in to the evolutionary process. Not voluntarily, anyway. Evolution is a natural event, and human invention is not natural. Animals and machines must always be separate, for the purpose of combination is always to serve the interest of humans, and this is morally wrong.
Bridging the gap between animal and machine is one of the prospects that we simply do not understand. And yet, with the technological capabilities we do have, we are able to come ever closer to such a thing. The possibility of doing that which we do not understand is unsettling. But most discomforting is the theory, held by many excited researchers, that animal and machine are not so different, and that we can actually combine the two, as if it were natural evolution. This is a dangerous assertion. Animal and machine are entirely separate properties—they do not coincide.
To elaborate on this, I will outline a few key differences between animal and machine. First, animals are born of nature. They are built solely of whatever gives life. One should note, we are not capable of creating life. We are able to reproduce the living, by borrowing from the already alive. Machines, alternately, are a solely human creation. They require humans to provide, produce and sustain. They are never capable of maintaining “life” without aid, be it electricity, battery, etc. This is a human gift to the machine. Animals are given the properties they need to sustain life internally.
Following this logic, no machine or human-created product can ever be animal. As a result, we cannot build a rabbit. Recall, we can only reproduce one. The “bridging the gap” theory is thus flawed. Considering Eduardo Kac’s green rabbit as seen in Life Extreme, is it ever possible for the rabbit to become something beyond a rabbit? If it involves any machinery, then no, for this is simply a non-animal attribute that can be replaced but not reproduced. If it is a biological “upgrade”, so to speak, I believe the answer is still no, however more unclear. An animal cannot cease to be itself. It will always be as it was created in nature, until it dies.
It is not surprising that very little biomechanical engineering has been done with humans. This is a direct result of the human assumption that because other organisms are less like us, that they are less living, less deserving of the natural live given them. There are moral arguments that suggest these advances are in the best interest of the animals. But how can one organism possibly understand or decide what is the best interest of another? The only responsibility we as humans have, is to determine what is best for our species. And what is the most common objection to the engineering of ourselves? It is the thought that we are impeding upon another human’s rights. How then, are we not impeding on another organism’s natural way of life?
Humans do not fit in to the evolutionary process. Not voluntarily, anyway. Evolution is a natural event, and human invention is not natural. Animals and machines must always be separate, for the purpose of combination is always to serve the interest of humans, and this is morally wrong.
Final - Filth/Technology
Texts like “The Filth” and “The Ticket that Exploded” are similar in their approach to the shocking, and both drew a significant amount of resistance. Perhaps the most important question that arises, then, is why this reaction was drawn.
The most obvious answer to this is that we as a “sophisticated” people have placed boundaries on what can be said and done in the public eye, and when a line is crossed we react with shock and anger. To an extent, this is a valid theory. If one finds something to be discomforting or unfit for exposure to others, they are likely to do something about it. But is this really what is happening in response to The Ticket that Exploded?
Certainly there is something about “The Ticket” that makes us uncomfortable. The most common complaint across all arenas of communication in class has been that certain scenes containing alien sex are too profane, too grotesque. And here we run into another problem, for Burroughs consciously made these acts homosexual. Stemming from this comes another debate—whether it is the homosexuality that makes one uncomfortable. Suddenly the discussion has new life, and we are led completely astray from the original problem. The issue isn’t what aspect of Burroughs’ novel makes us uncomfortable, it’s why we get uncomfortable.
It has been said in many forms that the stem of all fear and hatred is the misunderstood. It is safe to say that there is a definite lack of understanding in the reader’s comprehension of the cut-up method, which is the result of pouring conflict upon conflict. Burroughs challenges the innate response of disgust, inserting pornography with no background or apparent reason. With this, all understanding is lost, and we are left with actions stripped of their comfortable norms.
The tendency to react one way in public and respond another way in private, is common today. It is possible that the “culture filter” actively creates one process of thought, whereas in the absence of it, another would form. This applies directly to the phenomena of porn consumption in “red” states. The religious filter creates the public response, (moral outrage) while at the same time fueling the private reaction, consumption of porn.
It is important to note that this is not the only factor in porn consumption. People are sexual beings, and will turn to sex in many forms. Burroughs and Morrison challenge our sexual appetites by presenting us not with gay sex or straight sex, but with unusual sex. For this reason, the Porn in Red States phenomena does not strictly apply. The discomfort and disgust these books create is a result of the unknown, the unimaginable.
Interestingly, technology has opened the door to the unimaginable, or perhaps in Greg Feely’s case, the unavailable. Morrison notes this, as the protagonist of his story is a middle-aged man interested primarily in pornography and his cat. By creating a hero out of a figure otherwise closeted by society, a non-icon, Morrison highlights the preconceptions we have about who heroes truly are.
Perhaps the most important thing to take from these texts is that “filth” is an aspect of life…we despise it, crave it, produce it; to avoid it is to deny life’s imperfection. It is impossible, try as John might, to imagine a perfect world. Human life is rooted in conflict, disgust is an innate emotion because the disgusting is a product of life, and the search for beauty relies on encounters with the unpleasant. We will continue to strive for a pure world, and in doing so, will unintentionally add to the filth. Fighting the filth is necessary; it keeps us alive. If we cannot acknowledge what is wrong, we cannot do what is right. And so it is there, it is us. Always keeping one foot in the filth.
The most obvious answer to this is that we as a “sophisticated” people have placed boundaries on what can be said and done in the public eye, and when a line is crossed we react with shock and anger. To an extent, this is a valid theory. If one finds something to be discomforting or unfit for exposure to others, they are likely to do something about it. But is this really what is happening in response to The Ticket that Exploded?
Certainly there is something about “The Ticket” that makes us uncomfortable. The most common complaint across all arenas of communication in class has been that certain scenes containing alien sex are too profane, too grotesque. And here we run into another problem, for Burroughs consciously made these acts homosexual. Stemming from this comes another debate—whether it is the homosexuality that makes one uncomfortable. Suddenly the discussion has new life, and we are led completely astray from the original problem. The issue isn’t what aspect of Burroughs’ novel makes us uncomfortable, it’s why we get uncomfortable.
It has been said in many forms that the stem of all fear and hatred is the misunderstood. It is safe to say that there is a definite lack of understanding in the reader’s comprehension of the cut-up method, which is the result of pouring conflict upon conflict. Burroughs challenges the innate response of disgust, inserting pornography with no background or apparent reason. With this, all understanding is lost, and we are left with actions stripped of their comfortable norms.
The tendency to react one way in public and respond another way in private, is common today. It is possible that the “culture filter” actively creates one process of thought, whereas in the absence of it, another would form. This applies directly to the phenomena of porn consumption in “red” states. The religious filter creates the public response, (moral outrage) while at the same time fueling the private reaction, consumption of porn.
It is important to note that this is not the only factor in porn consumption. People are sexual beings, and will turn to sex in many forms. Burroughs and Morrison challenge our sexual appetites by presenting us not with gay sex or straight sex, but with unusual sex. For this reason, the Porn in Red States phenomena does not strictly apply. The discomfort and disgust these books create is a result of the unknown, the unimaginable.
Interestingly, technology has opened the door to the unimaginable, or perhaps in Greg Feely’s case, the unavailable. Morrison notes this, as the protagonist of his story is a middle-aged man interested primarily in pornography and his cat. By creating a hero out of a figure otherwise closeted by society, a non-icon, Morrison highlights the preconceptions we have about who heroes truly are.
Perhaps the most important thing to take from these texts is that “filth” is an aspect of life…we despise it, crave it, produce it; to avoid it is to deny life’s imperfection. It is impossible, try as John might, to imagine a perfect world. Human life is rooted in conflict, disgust is an innate emotion because the disgusting is a product of life, and the search for beauty relies on encounters with the unpleasant. We will continue to strive for a pure world, and in doing so, will unintentionally add to the filth. Fighting the filth is necessary; it keeps us alive. If we cannot acknowledge what is wrong, we cannot do what is right. And so it is there, it is us. Always keeping one foot in the filth.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Ribofunk stream of thought
In Little Worker Di Filippo introduces a splice that acts independently on different parts of its DNA. This leads to the murder of Mister Michael's wife. I am having trouble understanding the logic behind this. A dog wouldn't kill it's owner's wife, a human wouldn't kill his friend's wife, and a wolverine wouldn't consciously decipher between the two. This ability to shift processes strikes me as impossible, particularly if there is so little "human" in such a being.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Humanity
There has been a lot of discussion about what makes us human, and at what point we cease to be so. I struggle most with the theory that we can become "something else"; that if we replace enough of the characteristics that make us human, with traits of another being, we become that. As humans, we are innately capable of perceiving, with some efficiency, what is and is not human. We identify physical attributes and movement with humanity, also communication. But there are subtleties to our perceptions, human indicators that we cannot easily define, such as a person's gaze, when one gets the "feeling" that they are trustworthy, honest, or understanding. Human creations such as robots are replications of life — they can be statistically accurate, and can learn to respond to situations in varying ways without prompting. But they are computing and acting on information that live beings have given them. As far as humans who obtain particular implants and the like, they are human until they cease to live. Regardless of the number of mechanical arms, horse cells and pig's feet one has, until they biologically "die", they are human. If you pronounce something dead, it can become anything. If another being takes residence in that body, it does not retain any of the life from the previous being, it simply gives life to the body it has obtained. If I do not die, I cannot become a new species. I can acquire traits that begin the process of evolution, but only if they are natural. It is simply not possible for a human with unnatural (in a strict biological sense) adaptations, such as mechanical implants, to give birth to a human with the same advancements. Cellular advancements, on the other hand, can be transferred genetically, but this does not affect the humanity of the next generation. If X cannot livingly become Y, then it cannot give birth to Y.
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