Going Digital

The theory class I'm a GA for had a guest speaker today--a professor who spoke on the topic of "digital theory." Imagine that. Digital theory. She's building a project around how the English language is changing in relation to technology. How we use language and our perception of the "Book" is changing rapidly due to our use of text messages, email, and online media. An interesting point, though, is that even though our perception of these things change, these older forms are still with us. The scroll did not go away with the invention of the codex; the hardbound book did not go away with the invention of the dimestore paperback. And the codex will not go away with the invention of the computer. In a way, we've come full circle: how often do we think of how our ancestors may have read scrolls when we're scrolling down a webpage?

To me, there will always be a tactile pleasure from curling up with a good book that simply could not be replaced by a computer (or even one of those little electronic book readers). But the digital world is here, and there's no going back now.

Art vs. "Product"

Someone said something in class tonight that got me thinking. And the man who said this is mature, a junior high school teacher, and to all appearances reasonably intelligent. So I was mildly surprised and amused by what he said.

What he said was, "Music by Britney Spears really isn't that bad. In fact, it's rather good." For which he got some good-natured ribbing and comments that Britney Spears does not actually "make" her music. To which he replied, "No, she doesn't. What she is is a brand name. She is part of a product, and just like any other product, it can be good or bad. Yes, it's the engineers and technicians and song writers and choreographers and image makers behind her that do all the work, but they slap her name on the end product and that's what sells the records. It's no different than Madonna, or Paris Hilton, or even the Monkees."

Now Madonna I've got a grudging respect for. She wasn't much more than a Britney, perhaps, in the beginning of her career, but I think just by sheer longevity she has gone on to prove that not only can she create, she is also capable of reinventing herself as well as making some pretty canny business decisions. Paris Hilton. Pffh. I don't really know. I haven't bothered to listen. But I have my doubts about someone who gets on a label just because she's rich.

But the Monkees? My adorable Monkees? How dare he make such a comparison? Okay, so they were a "studio" band. So they never actually played their instruments. So they didn't write the songs. So what? They could sing. And they were cute and funny and made me laugh. In a good way. So *not* like Britney Spears.

His comment revealed one of my own prejudices: I have more respect for the Jewels and Sarahs and Toris of the world--musicians who truly create, live and breathe their own music-- than I do for these megastar "faces" on an industry product. Why should the struggling unknown musician, singing and playing in the corner of some cafe somewhere, seem more authentic to me than a Britney Spears? Because I do agree with him on one point. The product itself is an authentic creation through the group effort of creative people. Why do I give them less credit? Why do the works by these other musicians seem more "real"?

I think what it comes down to is what these "brand name" people have to bring to the table. I don't see Britney really working for her product. All she does is show up. If she were contributing something worthwhile-- hours of practice before she appears on national television, for example-- that might be something. If she took voice lessons, or songwriting, and contributed something to the creation of her product other than whining about her tabloid lifestyle, that might be something else entirely.

And then there's the fact that this "product" is so industry driven. They are playing to the Lowest Common Denominator, to the bottom line. They will produce whatever their market research says will make the most sales and rake in the most dough. I don't think that's coming from that "truly creative backwater" that Gibson was talking about.

Anyway, I'm going to go listen to the Monkees and meditate on "Another Pleasant Valley Sunday" and "Daydream Believer."

The Terror and the Ecstasy

Most people don’t realize how much they’ve been penetrated by technology.
Isn't that an interesting concept? We've been penetrated by technology. Like it's living inside of us. And perhaps it is. Gibson pointed out how many vaccinations we receive in childhood: Many of us living 100 years ago would never have reached our fifth birthday.

The future is no longer knowable: In the 1950s, grown-ups planned the future: one positive—rockets to the moon, the world’s fair; one negative—the atomic wasteland.
It seems to me that on the whole, if people even stop to think about the future, they are mostly apathetic. I don't think anyone truly believes in atomic warfare anymore (except maybe Tom Cruise); I don't think a whole lot of people believe in a Star Trek future either (except maybe the die hard Trekkies). The Environment is the new hot topic: Is the world warming or cooling? Reminds me of that Robert Frost poem: Will we end in fire or ice?

It's difficult today to find a non-mediated human.
Again, I love his choice of words. A non-mediated human. We cannot escape it. Media surrounds us and defines our existence. Even if we live our lives in opposition to it, we are still responding to its presence. Daily we are bombarded by images, words. I am often struck by the fact that I read so fast naturally that I have already read a billboard or advertisement before I can look away. I can't even decide not to read it because by the time I look at it it has already penetrated my mind. It reminds me of those science fiction stories where ads are beamed directly into peoples brains as they are walking down the street. I think that this would drive me crazy, but the truth is, it's already happening.

In the 1920s, recordings of music from the Appalachians—people who never heard a recording, or radio—sound fundamentally different.
This concept fascinated me, especially with its ties to music. Culture is constantly influencing culture, but the rate increases exponentially with the introduction of media. We notice, don't we, how quickly new bands influence one another, how scores of them seem to sound the same. We may never have a culture that can produce a band like the Beatles again. I mentioned this in an earlier post, but Gibson surmised that Nirvana may have come out of the last truly creative period. (He says) We no longer have a backwater culture behind the main culture where a movement can gain momentum and grow. Young bands are catapulted too quickly into the spotlight only to flash and burn out in the glare of the paparazzi. Is he right?

Victrola trauma—a preacher who listened to one of the first recordings thought it the voice of the devil. He was experiencing the cusp of change. We don’t find it strange we can hear the voices of the dead whenever we want to.
Not only do we not find it strange, we can go online and download those voices in mere seconds.

The non-mediated world is a lost world. We cannot get back there. There is a sense of loss, but a sense of what we are gaining: Loss and Christmas morning at the same time.
I like the way he phrased that.

Vertiginous moments: we realize the contemporary, experience terror and ecstasy, then retreat from it because we cannot stay in that state of panic. We're more comfortable with who we were 10 years ago.
I love technology, I really do. When it works, when it's beneficial, it can be truly wonderful. Kind of like that comment Harrison Ford makes in Blade Runner: "If it's a benefit, it's not my problem." But I think I agree with Gibson. Even with the best toys, we still experience a certain level of resistance, of discomfort. Well, anyone over 30, that is. I mean, just looking at music as an example, I am far more comfortable with CDs as a medium. I own an iPod, but I haven't completely made my peace with it. I still haven't completely figured out how it works. It frustrates me, so I retreat from it. But I marvel at it all the same.

The Impossible Machine

There was so much material touched on in William Gibson's No Maps for These Territories that I will have to make my comments over several posts. I'm starting with a fragment, because it reminded me of something...

Q: How might humans become posthuman?

Gibson: "Functional nanotech would guarantee the end of economics, the beginning of immortality. McDonald burgers could be made out of garbage."

First off, I thought they already were! [snicker!] (Sorry, I couldn't resist.)

But seriously, though, this comment took me back to a project I did in the 5th or 6th grade. We were supposed to invent a machine that could help humanity. It was a creative art project. I made a drawing of a machine that you could put garbage in on one end, set the dial, and get something really useful out the other end. I was even somewhat rational about it. You could get food by throwing old food garbage in-- leftovers, watermelons rinds, whatever-- but you couldn't get food from something like wood shavings. But you might get a chair. I thought it was rather clever. The teacher, while praising my creativity, made it quite clear that my "invention" was impossible.

But now, with the advent of nanotech, my impossible machine is not so impossible, is it?



6 Days til Lift-Off

So much music, so little time...

tori's latest was released today, but do I have time to go shopping? [sigh!] And after spending $$$ on new tires and a front-end alignment, well, my heart just isn't into going out and spending more money. I have a weird relationship with money that way. Anytime I spend more than $100 on anything, I start to feel slightly ill. It has taken me most of my adult life to get to where shopping can be remotely pleasurable, and even then I'm still a walk-in-find-what-I-like-and-walk-out kind of shopper. Except for books. I can browse a bookstore for hours. Music runs a close second.

So I guess tori will have to wait. Looks like it's getting some good reviews. Yay, tori! Meanwhile, I have a really cool copy of Paste magazine with a CD sampler to keep me occupied (Thanks, Guy!). I love it when my "favorites" come out with new CDs, but I also love discovering new music, especially these obscure little bands from other countries that nobody has ever heard of who are trying new and interesting things. Trouble is, some of these obscure little bands put out one CD and then disappear forever.

Which reminds me, I've been meaning to do a post on William Gibson's No Maps for These Territories. It's taking me a long time because there is just so much packed into that film, well, it's just going to be a really long post once I get to it. Anyway, the eminently quotable Gibson said that, with the advent of technology, "movements" don't really have time to gain momentum anymore. So these obscure little bands are catapulted into fame and fortune too quickly and burn out like meteorites. Even during the time of bands like Nirvana and the whole grunge thing. It just doesn't last anymore because there is no longer any "backwater" to nurture it. Almost as if music needs a primeval goo to evolve in before coming out into the light. It's an interesting thought. I mean, I just love the way the whole indie rock scene is taking off and there are all these obscure little bands getting attention. But what if there is some truth in what Gibson is saying? What if we are somehow disconnecting from that creative space where original ideas are born?