Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Thoughts on Chun...
Like Nakamura, Chun often bogged me down with the race factor (as well as the chapter on Neuromancer and Ghost in the Shell), but overall, I found the second half of _Control and Freedom_very interesting--and paranoi-ing!
"Paranoia increases as visibility decreases"--so states Chun on p. 268. This is hardly a surprise in today's technological world. What we can't see makes us edgy. Where does our credit card information go when we make a purchase? Who is reading our blogs? Who's watching our webcam feeds? These are all questions that Chun ties into her notion of control-freedom--"the rise of a generalized paranoia" (250).
I can see where Chun comes from in her arguments, and I think there's a lot of truth to what Lacan terms "paranoid knowledge" (251). Simply put, "the Internet is of interest to us because it is the object of another's desire" (251). Chun's comments on the "Anthem" commercials further shed some light ("hurry up and get online because all these other people already want or have it" (250)). I was always behind most of my friends in terms of getting the latest technology. I was one of the last ones to have Internet at home, as well as one of the last ones to own a cell phone (I was however, the first to get an iPod!). I felt out of touch at times, or at least not able to be in touch to the extent they were. I also wondered if I was at a disadvantage in school by not having the Internet available at home while I was doing homework. However, I feel that I'm caught up, and in many cases (taking this class for example), ahead.
If there is truth to paranoid knowledge, then it's a scary thought that the more people who have access, the greater the paranoia will become in other populations. But here's my question--if the Internet does eventually become so widespread that everyone has access (chips in people's heads, I don't know), will that erase the paranoia? Or, will the control systems (or lackthereof) shift and begin to give rise to a new form of paranoia?
Sometimes I try not to look at ideas such as Chun's too seriously. Life develops in certain ways that we can't control, so sometimes we have to make the best of things as they come along. And I think the human race has been doing that for quite some time now, and not just in the age of fiber optics.
"Paranoia increases as visibility decreases"--so states Chun on p. 268. This is hardly a surprise in today's technological world. What we can't see makes us edgy. Where does our credit card information go when we make a purchase? Who is reading our blogs? Who's watching our webcam feeds? These are all questions that Chun ties into her notion of control-freedom--"the rise of a generalized paranoia" (250).
I can see where Chun comes from in her arguments, and I think there's a lot of truth to what Lacan terms "paranoid knowledge" (251). Simply put, "the Internet is of interest to us because it is the object of another's desire" (251). Chun's comments on the "Anthem" commercials further shed some light ("hurry up and get online because all these other people already want or have it" (250)). I was always behind most of my friends in terms of getting the latest technology. I was one of the last ones to have Internet at home, as well as one of the last ones to own a cell phone (I was however, the first to get an iPod!). I felt out of touch at times, or at least not able to be in touch to the extent they were. I also wondered if I was at a disadvantage in school by not having the Internet available at home while I was doing homework. However, I feel that I'm caught up, and in many cases (taking this class for example), ahead.
If there is truth to paranoid knowledge, then it's a scary thought that the more people who have access, the greater the paranoia will become in other populations. But here's my question--if the Internet does eventually become so widespread that everyone has access (chips in people's heads, I don't know), will that erase the paranoia? Or, will the control systems (or lackthereof) shift and begin to give rise to a new form of paranoia?
Sometimes I try not to look at ideas such as Chun's too seriously. Life develops in certain ways that we can't control, so sometimes we have to make the best of things as they come along. And I think the human race has been doing that for quite some time now, and not just in the age of fiber optics.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Meeting in First Life
Some thoughts about a "real life" discussion with Jennifer last week...
From the Heverly and Lessig readings, we talked a lot about the shifts between the analog and digital worlds. We wondered whether this shift we are currently experiencing--the shift towards digitality--will be permanent, or just another phase until the next thing?
Digitality seems to be building an architecture that uses an invisible interface for control. Are we using technology's tools? Or is technology using us? Heverly argues that we should be cautious about the ways we invest our physical selves into digital parts. It seems that as digitality grows, we are removing more and more of the physical aspects that define us as humans and communicators. Jennifer and I wondered if the digitality shift suddenly ended for some reason, would we have to begin to "reinvest" ourselves in physical materiality?
As far as the nature of our conversation, we discussed some of the differences the Second Life discussion-group probably would encounter. We agreed that "text capacity" would hinder discussion. If you were to take our conversation and type it out onto paper or screen, it would take up quite a bit of space on the Second Life screen. If there were 5 or 6 people present, it might make detail and depth of conversation limited. A lack of context and direction of conversation also would seem to be problematic. Basic conversation (like that of an IM chat session) would be okay, but for discussing academic texts or in depth conversations, we both felt a medium such as Second Life would diminish the quality of discussion.
From the Heverly and Lessig readings, we talked a lot about the shifts between the analog and digital worlds. We wondered whether this shift we are currently experiencing--the shift towards digitality--will be permanent, or just another phase until the next thing?
Digitality seems to be building an architecture that uses an invisible interface for control. Are we using technology's tools? Or is technology using us? Heverly argues that we should be cautious about the ways we invest our physical selves into digital parts. It seems that as digitality grows, we are removing more and more of the physical aspects that define us as humans and communicators. Jennifer and I wondered if the digitality shift suddenly ended for some reason, would we have to begin to "reinvest" ourselves in physical materiality?
As far as the nature of our conversation, we discussed some of the differences the Second Life discussion-group probably would encounter. We agreed that "text capacity" would hinder discussion. If you were to take our conversation and type it out onto paper or screen, it would take up quite a bit of space on the Second Life screen. If there were 5 or 6 people present, it might make detail and depth of conversation limited. A lack of context and direction of conversation also would seem to be problematic. Basic conversation (like that of an IM chat session) would be okay, but for discussing academic texts or in depth conversations, we both felt a medium such as Second Life would diminish the quality of discussion.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Growing Up "Analog" and "Digital"
Heverly's "Growing Up Digital: Control and the Pieces of a Digital Life" raises some interesting questions about growing up in the digital age. At 26 years old in the year 2008, I'm in the unique position of having grown up in both the "analog" and "digital" world. I remember first having the Internet in my home as a sophomore in high school, and also remember how cool it was to buy a computer (a big honking desktop) for college because it would be "essential." I first got a digital camera and cell phone in college, releasing me from the chains of film and landlines.
Perhaps my overlapping position within these two realms has blunted my understanding and perception of what Heverly talks about in his article. I've always realized how fast things develop, and that my generation is experiencing new things at a different shift in time than the generations before me. However, I've never considered how people "grow up digital, similar to how they grow up a particular race, or to a particular height (216). Could growing up "digital" be just as defining as growing up as a 6' 7'' white kid?
I'm wondering what will happen to things such as the posts for this blog. Could I just let it float around in cyberspace infinitely? If I choose to delete it after this class is over, will it truly be gone? I really don't know. But the truth is, 10 years or so into my own digital aging, I've already begun to litter pieces of myself (digital pictures, blog posts, emails, etc.) in the digital world. Hopefully no one will ever blackmail me with an explicit online video--as was the case in Heverly's examples--but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to avoid similar problems given the nature of the digital world.
Maybe the next generations--the ones who will take cell phones to Kindergarten and virtually dissect frogs in 6th grade Biology--will experience this shift in identity the most. I like what Heverly says about education in this sense:
Perhaps my overlapping position within these two realms has blunted my understanding and perception of what Heverly talks about in his article. I've always realized how fast things develop, and that my generation is experiencing new things at a different shift in time than the generations before me. However, I've never considered how people "grow up digital, similar to how they grow up a particular race, or to a particular height (216). Could growing up "digital" be just as defining as growing up as a 6' 7'' white kid?
I'm wondering what will happen to things such as the posts for this blog. Could I just let it float around in cyberspace infinitely? If I choose to delete it after this class is over, will it truly be gone? I really don't know. But the truth is, 10 years or so into my own digital aging, I've already begun to litter pieces of myself (digital pictures, blog posts, emails, etc.) in the digital world. Hopefully no one will ever blackmail me with an explicit online video--as was the case in Heverly's examples--but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to avoid similar problems given the nature of the digital world.
Maybe the next generations--the ones who will take cell phones to Kindergarten and virtually dissect frogs in 6th grade Biology--will experience this shift in identity the most. I like what Heverly says about education in this sense:
...there has been little, if any work done on how to educate children regarding the long-term effect of either creating digital media files that include themselves within them, or allowing themselves to be included in such files created by others" (214).This is interesting. Will we need to "digitally" educate our children about having a picture taken? Perhaps my 5th grade Social Studies class will become Social Digitality Studies...
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Finkel and Hansen...Hansen and Finkel!
In honor of Ray Finkel, I decided to take his last name as I created my Second Life-self. I was kinda surprised that we were limited to what last names we could chose, but what better one than Finkel!
Anyways, here are a few of my initial experiences in Second Life:
1. Creating a box and sitting on it.
2. Encountering a fellow Second Lifer, and instead of talking (which I hadn't figured out yet), we simply began jumping 15 feet into the air over and over.
3. Wearing a tuxedo coat with blue jeans and getting a nice complement from a girl with blue skin and wings.
4. Meeting another person who was also exploring Second Life for a graduate class. Would have been a little weird had it randomly been someone from 709.
This experience was quite interesting to say the least. I was playing around on it over the noon hour one day, and Eric, the grad student in my lab kept looking over my should saying "I'm getting addicted to this and I'm not even using it." Walking around in this virtual world certainly brings a sense of detachment from your physical self, as well as this underlying addiction to keep playing. If a character approached you and started a conversation, I almost felt obligated to say hello and do a stop-and-chat. Unlike AIM or other messengers, the visual presence of an avatar made the communication seem much more real. I couldn't just close a text box, but had to "physically" walk away from that person if I wasn't interested in speaking to them. Kinda felt bad doing that. On the other hand, when I was bothering people for advice on how to acquire clothes and such, there were many who simply ignored me or walked away. Some were very helpful though, and given the initial, and difficult learning curve in Second Life, it would have taken me much longer to learn how to do simple things. Overall though, a very fascinating microcosym of real life.
I'm almost glad it crashes my Safari at home, otherwise I might be tempted to use it more often, and then things would never get done. I'm waiting to see if Eric went home and downloaded the software at home last night, effectively ending his thesis work.
Anyways, here are a few of my initial experiences in Second Life:
1. Creating a box and sitting on it.
2. Encountering a fellow Second Lifer, and instead of talking (which I hadn't figured out yet), we simply began jumping 15 feet into the air over and over.
3. Wearing a tuxedo coat with blue jeans and getting a nice complement from a girl with blue skin and wings.
4. Meeting another person who was also exploring Second Life for a graduate class. Would have been a little weird had it randomly been someone from 709.
This experience was quite interesting to say the least. I was playing around on it over the noon hour one day, and Eric, the grad student in my lab kept looking over my should saying "I'm getting addicted to this and I'm not even using it." Walking around in this virtual world certainly brings a sense of detachment from your physical self, as well as this underlying addiction to keep playing. If a character approached you and started a conversation, I almost felt obligated to say hello and do a stop-and-chat. Unlike AIM or other messengers, the visual presence of an avatar made the communication seem much more real. I couldn't just close a text box, but had to "physically" walk away from that person if I wasn't interested in speaking to them. Kinda felt bad doing that. On the other hand, when I was bothering people for advice on how to acquire clothes and such, there were many who simply ignored me or walked away. Some were very helpful though, and given the initial, and difficult learning curve in Second Life, it would have taken me much longer to learn how to do simple things. Overall though, a very fascinating microcosym of real life.
I'm almost glad it crashes my Safari at home, otherwise I might be tempted to use it more often, and then things would never get done. I'm waiting to see if Eric went home and downloaded the software at home last night, effectively ending his thesis work.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)