essay: Plurk Technovolution

The use of Plurk in this class has allowed for a very different interaction between students and the professor. Over the course of the last few months we have experimented and eventually adapted to this new technology, and while it could be argued that this sort of microblog is the culmination of technology dating back since the invention of the telephone, we have made it our own in one short quarter. It has become almost second nature, I plurk over dinner, or have it running while I do school work, it demands so little commitment, allows full control of how I will interact with others, and with just 140 characters I can share just about anything. The speed of change is amazing, and as I look back at my plurks during the quarter I can see the evolution of how I use plurk, and how it has changed my perception of new forms of communication.

The organic nature of technology is a concept that we have seen in several of the texts including “Ribofunk” and “Postsingular”. By adapting to users and situations, being constantly refined with each generation, technology is a perfect example of Darwin’s “survival of the fittest”. Just as the nannites of “Postsingular” helped create a more perfect nanobot in the orphids, each new form of technology is partly responsible for the development of future generations. As subsequent generations become more and more efficient, and change at an increasing pace. We may soon be experiencing a reality like the one illustrated in “Ribofunk” in which humans, at least in their natural state, are unable to keep up with technology and completely inadequate as masters of technology. Man made inventions have surpassed our ability to process information, and may soon prove more fit than the human species altogether. As robots are designed that can mimic human physical abilities, can learn behavior, and program future generations of robots, there becomes less need to have humans around. Like the plot of so many sci-fi movies, we cannot deny the rules of nature, and the potential that technology may soon own us – if it doesn’t already.

The idea that robots will some day rule the world is not a new one. They may keep us for our enrgy, like in the Matrix, or for our creativity like in Postsingular, or maybe more of a novelty to learn about our nature as in Ribofunk. These scenarios all imply that we have something that grants us entitlement to keep surviving. Yet, what this is part of the natural progression and humans were just a stepping stone, the catalyst for real change. I would like to agree that we have some inherent value, but do we keep old computers around because without them we would not have the iPhone? No, they are played out, they have no more use to us.

So does this mean that humans are going to become obsolete? Is this really a problem? Perhaps if we looked at technology we would see a hint at true self-preservation. The machines have no worry about the next version replacing them, they are used to their capacity and when that is no longer enough they secede to a superior replacement. What do we have to glean from this? I think if we could stop looking ahead we could realize that there is still a great deal that we need to realize in our abilities. I have been frustrated by a widespread discontent, and while we may not be able to ignore what is happening in the future, there is so much happening in the present that we are not aware of. It is only when we are aware of where we are that we can formulate a clear picture of where we are going. If we are truly aware of why we have fear, and hate, if we can learn to care for our selves, and for each other, to see our overuse of resources, and the state of the world every day, then perhaps we can come to terms with why we are heading in a direction that makes us seem obsolete. Maybe we can even steer the course of humanity it in a direction that illustrates why we are not expendable.

Technology has changed the human world a great deal, and as it accelerates we must adapt our behavior. As an illustration of how adaptable humans really are, I think that technology allows us to explore our tremendous potential. In comparison to all other living things, we have an exceptional ability to adapt to just about anything. Trees and bugs, whales and crocodiles, these things have changed so little in thousands of years, because they have found their niche. Evolution made them fit a certain purpose and adaptation made them masters in their respective roles. It would seem that we are approaching a point at which we will either find our role or destroy ourselves trying to make the role fit us. Whether our future will end like a happy sci-fi movie ending or a sad one, it certainly has the makings for one hell of a movie (better yet if we can learn kung fu by downloading it).

Small Thoughts

I have been working on finals all week, and still wanted to discuss the class activity before turning in finals and calling it good.

There has been some compelling blogs in this last little bit of the quarter and yet we seem to be reaching a glass ceiling. This was evident in the last couple of classes where intead of delving into any real probing discussion, there was a sway towards the topical and, in my opinion, bland discussions. Was that as far as we were willing to go? Just to the edge of some really profound observations, and then back to another quarter of syllabus and chapter quizzes?

I won't have it, and clearly low is not interested in stopping either. So, I'm leaving (I would be leaving anyways, but) this is only the beginning. Why did I have so many silences following Tony's questions? Why was I so willing to let these texts change my opinions?

We can choose to be challenged by the world and many are going to settle for the known and tangible. I decided that this was not enough for me when I first read richard bach and paulo coelho (how ironic that tony would call his writing terrible, and flip me on my head)

The fact is that change is only happening when you are uncomfortable, and being uncomfortable allows us to make mistakes, and see new perspectives, and this is when true brilliance happens.

Stop posting summaries of the class, stop talking norbert, don't let spring break spoil the karma you have all built, this is learning, and this what education is supposed to look like. For me the question has become, how will I approch my greatest potential. I know deep down that it is not doing what feels easy, I could work seasonally for the next ten years, and be a professional climber and live the good life, or I can move to Norway, be humbled by my Norwegian peers, try to get a masters in education, start a family, and struggle every day in the old school of hard knocks.

Damn, I think you can see what I have to do...

It's the Small Things

So things are wrapping up, and the class is a reflection of things in life (once again)

First, I just loved that my last post went directly to a note made in Postsingular, about having these escapes in the "other" and how it serves to rejuvenate our regular routine. Of course I read that like the next day and thought, well I know I'm not the first person to think this, but considering that the blogs are assigned work it seemed especially poignant.

Now, as books come to completion, the salient theme comes to me as how influential the small is, and in fact, how it drives with incredible power. In the same respect my life is turning a significant page, and the completion of my college education seems like so many small and obscure influences, but effectively pushing me to a place I never anticipated. The people I have met, professors who have challenged me, and simple moments that led me here. The things that are remembered are not bound by time or at all broad, it is the moments. The recognition of a piece of art, a sunset over the San Juan Islands, a break outside in the midst of a dance party. These moments are what have culminated in my experience of Bellingham, and collectively bring me to a knowledge of myself as someone with new potential, abilities, and a trajectory.

We have seen that the smallest influences can lead to destruction, power, inspiration, and complacency. It is actually the only thing that ever has. (to bastardize the Margaret Mead quote)

I took an imediate interest in the texts in this class and the multimedia experience that mirrored the progressive nature of the material. When these things push our preconcieved ideas, we push back, and to draw from The Ticket That Exploded, the grey goo scenario, germaphobia, and the orphidnet, we develop our own holistic idea of the evolution of our society. The most important thing seems to not necessarily having a prediction or expectation of where we will be based on where we have been. The key is to recognize and value each little piece, and more than anything, to see it's influence beyond the scope of what we may expect. It has always been the small things that matter, and when we see those clearly we see that the future is not that complicated or so far away, it is written in every moment.

The Net

So after a very frustrating class period with a certain dominant person owning the floor and distracting conversation, I thought oh to drift off into the orphid net...

Most of the time I think that we are going to miss out on something when technology provides a reality preferable to my "regular" life. This makes sense, but what do I do after dinner, and I am sitting around my house? I plurk and I have a blast, and then I check facebook, and then maybe I call a friend, and later on call my girlfriend on skype. So being an outdoor recreation major, and an outdoor enthusiast, and a social person, how can I be so captivated by these impersonal forms of interaction? What does this mean for the future of the people that proclaim their love or preference for such technologically aided interaction? In this evolved form of interaction I don't need to deal with inconveniences or people that distract me, there is no insincerity, it is a simple matter of choice and this is the beauty, the compeling argument for technology. All people love choices. To be exposed to new and "radical" ideas, to meet people I may never interact with normally, and to have such sweeping control over these interactions.

This evolution of technology is partly why I think my weekend in the Skagit with my homestead friend was so rewarding. My "real" interactions with people are filtered just like my plurks. I visit the Skagit Valley maybe once a month, and have some outdoor adventure (climbing, hiking, or snowboarding) and stay in my friend's house with the wood stove, fresh eggs, and no high speed internet or cell reception, and then after a couple of slow days in the country I come back to Bellingham, refreshed, but excited to get back to the routine of student life. The alterity of these escapes, would not be nearly as valuable if not for their temporary and voluntary nature. My friends in the Skagit Valley do not experience the freedom of my transient reality, and suffer the difficulties associated with tracking down people on a home phone to talk, or using a dial up modem. Things move at a slower pace in the mountains, and this is nice to unwind from my hectic life, but if it were the other way around and I lived in the Skagit Valley with brief visits in the city, I know I would become anxious and disconnected from parts of my life that depend on technology (ie my fiance, family, current events, and school). Being a firm believer in the value of change, and a bit of a romantic, I think that technology will continue to bring a higher quality of life, and by maintaining the perspective of life in the Skagit Valley or even in the classroom with distracting individuals, we can see how technology will serve best, and fit into our lives without taking over.

This is where we are

This blog is about life and not books, that will come later.

I am coming to appreciate this digital journal. I have not written in a journal for a few years and this shift from religious journaling coincided with my developing relationship with my fiance. Here it must be noted that much of my journal entries were, dreams, frustrations (with women), and random ideas. I have thought about why this change occured but have never come to any conclusion. I did not need it in my life, and thus found my confidant in Veronika, and not empty pages of a journal. This may or may not be a satisfatory reason. I went back this weekend, I went back to the Skagit Valley where my adventure began. I stayed with old friends, played in the mountains, and visited an old friend's emerging homestead. This was the dream... My first journal begins with a school assignment to write 100 things I would do before I die, and there it is.

So, I am troubled by the mixed emotions of wanting to be out there, battling nature to find my livelihood, or to pursue the life of leisure that I seem to be moving towards. The dream is HARD, it will come to fruition in 20 years, maybe, these guys are 30 now, and they are setting in to live a life of hardtimes. Yet, that is the dream... the myth, the compromise, the truth.

Do I have the strength of will to sign myselef up for this battle. We have so few models of character, these celebrities making movies about honor, the great men and women of history, but in my life it is a rare quality, abstract and distant. Abraham Lincoln was the man, but what would he be doing now? Is he the president Americans would like to drink a beer with? Where are the starving artists, stubborn farmers, and committed social servants? I don't have the energy to protest, I don't really feel so bad about social injustice, or feel charitable. It is sad, but it is true.

We are allowed to become soft as a society, and the impact will not be felt until we take the load off of the developing world. When we bear our own burden once more then we may recognize character again. I just want to say that while we live in this phony comfort there are people still fighting, and people carrying our load, and when did we admit to being too weak to do it ourselves?

Aren't you a bit Jung for this?

So as we close on a few novels this week I have been distracted by the attempt to make sense of this class. Our discussions seem to bounce around, and I don't really get the point.

We have this virus, this small organism that can and will bring down our entire way of life. It is unlikely that we can stop it (ie "the oil treatment"), and as we watch our impending doom we can only hope that the success of the virus does not totally erase our history.

From there we add The Filth, Ribofunk, and Dust. These books have all explored the idea of nano technology taking over in one way or another. They have also, surprisingly, drawn into their stories a sort of religious moral. The Filth gave us love, Ribofunk the all one, and Dust a smattering of Christian archetypes. So my question is, why?

This nano apocalypse seems to allude to the same question we have been trying to answer since the dawn of man. Nanotechnology takes the question of "why are we here?" and twists the perspective to "why were we here?". There is some intrinsic value to human life and concisousness that we cannot explain. The reoccurance of archetypes in these pieces of literature illustrate this nature of patterns in thought, that we can relate to in so many different forms, but in the end we have not answered the question. We acknowledge that patterns exist, and we act in a fairly predictable manner, but why?

I want to write more, I want to say something in class that will make everyone stop and think about the big instead of the small, just for a moment. The more think about it the further I stray from inspiration.

So BLAh.... you can't plurk to save karma, you can't flirt when you don't feel confident, the real inspiration hits when you don't expect it, and it will always be the small that drives the big.

Reboot

The reality of the Ribofunk world is taking a while to sink in...

The speech shared on plurk about Homo evolutis makes A LOT of sense. It is the scary possibility that I don't want to see, but I cannot stop. It is my brothers World of Warcraft against my dream of being a farmer. If we can program cells, we take control over creation. This is really happening!?!

So the Filth plays into this in a peculiar way, we have agreed that it is relatively tame; in all it's perverse stories the likes of which would have my grandmother turning in her grave, I am unphased. I even made the comment that it is predictable. It is predictable, because it is within the realm of contemporary fantasy. It is well within the realm of narrative fantasy 50 years ago. HOLY SHIT! It doesn't matter that I love to ride my bike, and climb rocks, and garden. It doesn't matter that scientists are not allowed to harvest stem cells, technology is greater than these values and Darwin said it 200 years ago. Evolution is the natural order, and we are accelerating towards god-like.

What can I say? I am not ready for this, yet it already seems obvious. We are ready for this, and it is already happening. This is the other distilled from our greatest minds, so far greater than us, yet limited to our realization. Will war accelerate faster than benevolence? Will greed overcome community? These are timeless dilemmas that are almost as scary as the possibility that we will go beyond such turmoil. Scary because then we are truly beyond what I might predict... radical

The Other

The Radical Alterity has given me a lot to think about. The "other" takes so many forms and seems to represent romantic ideals, esoteric knowledge, and a higher plane of functioning. The text is sometimes difficult to fully grasp, but the examples ring true, and the discussion of Japan's treatment of the other really grabbed me. I was reminded of the Dharma Bums, Alan Watts, and my own fascination with "eastern" culture, which is truly the most seductive "other". Somehow I was also brought to a new understanding of the alure of farming, the other great romantic force in my life.

My mother is from a large farm family, but I was brought up in the suburbs. For my entire life I have wished to return to the simple life of a farmer. To hunt and slaughter, to draw sustenance from the environment, and to "live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life". It was encouraged by "Into the Wild" and I gave this dream validity when I moved to Washington after high school. I committed a year to the "other" when I studied friluftsliv (free air living) in Norway. Now I am to be married and how appropriate would it be if we do actually move to northern Norway and find our place between the fjords and mountains, raising chickens and making cheese. Tomatoes and spinach grown in my own garden, wool spun from our sheep, this is my other, this is what drives me to abandon what I know, and will captivate me until it is a reality.

But then what?

Science Reality

My thoughts about the readings have been dominated by the idea that even if we can become god-like in our ability to process information, our physical forms, and overcome mortality, we will still be subject to very human dramas. Both Ribofunk and Dust play out human dilemmas with the radical addition of special abilities, splices, and future slang. The film we watched in class (Technopalypse?) warns of the dangers of the god-like power and the unlimited potential of technology, yet I think Ribofunk is accurate in illustrating that the advancements in technology will not take away our desire for acceptance, love, and freedom. These are the emotions that technology cannot emulate or overcome. Our drama, our lives, and our stories are always driven by this, no matter how much technology influences our abilities, appearances, or daily life.

Chopped and Screwed

The discussion of "The Ticket That Exploded" seems to lack a lot of direct reference to portions of the novel. This may be because the messages are buried and cut up but within the reoccurring scenes and messages directed to the reader we have drawn out the virus that is the "Other Half". This "Other Half" is identified as the inner voice that we cannot silence, Burroughs suggests that by recording and replaying, cutting and mixing, we can play out this incessant noise and perhaps cut them up "into air into thin air".

The reoccurring images and plots of the newtboys, orgasm death skin, addicts, and nova police are the "Other Half" of WSB. This view into his fantasies, the writings from his immutable parasitic organism, seems like another attempt at flushing out the subconcsious, sub-vocal speech. "The Ticket" has a reoccuring reference of the body being split down the middle and spliced with another, and as with the recordings, one may take over the other half through splicing and if one can brake the link between the actual body and the sub-vocal speech they can free themselves physical death.

Really the only other reference to death seems to be the "Old Doctor", who lifting his old blue hands and bringing them down slow, quietung the marks, but if you call him twice he quiets you.

I think that to silence our "other half" may be something we desire, but what would life be without our virus, it is so ingrained into our existance that we justify our superiority over other life on having this other half or "sentience". So we have one romatic ideal of a return to the natural simple being yet the end results precludes such romaticism.

The result of all this is what? It is the same as sitting in the lotus position for 100 years... you get nowhere (I think).

The Mind That Exploded

The discussions and plurking has been exceptional this week. The night after our class Thursday was especially effective at drawing out discussion online, as people debated the value of "The Ticket" their frustrations with the class, and shared a variety of other random videos and ideas (dancing bananas)

What I have gathered from all of this is an appreciation for those thoughts that force us to think differently about an issue in order to relate or respond. This may seem obvious, and when I commented that I had experienced professors that did not encourage this type of thought nanotext was surprised and commented that I ought to feel insulted. He is absolutely right, and yet as have gone past my young idealism of years past, I have experienced a narrowing pettern of thought. Without the inspiration of Ken Keasy or Italo Calvino regularly shaking up my understanding of the world I have exchanged my naivete for a certain lack of imagination.

What I want to express here is not topics of the novels we are reading, but rather the effect of the texts on how I interpret the class and my life. The way that Burroughs challenges the rules of a novel, and the effect he has on one's acceptable limitations, runs parallel to the effects of all revolutionaries and geniuses throughout history. It is the great ideas that shake the foundation of our understanding. Just looking at my position one week ago, I have reached a new understanding of this genius, and I am reminded of what made me move to WA 5 years ago, the reason I changed majors from engineering to recreation, and climb rocks with such passion. It is the potential, the questioning of accepted terms, and the challenge of convention that brings change. This is the re-creation we see as a link between texts, and throughout life. So, while I may not be drawn into a story woven from ejaculation and pubic hair, I see that that was never the intention, perhaps by cutting up my reality, and juxtaposing new words and ideas into existing constructs I will recreate a more perfect understanding of the world. It is at least worth a try...

Orgasm Addicts Stacked in the Attick Like Muttering Burlap

"The Ticket That Exploded" is the second book I have read by Burroughs and I was excited to read this book after feeling confused and disturbed by "Naked Lunch". So my hope that Burroughs had something other than ejaculation, alien sex, and rectal mucus to build his fantasy. SO far it is much of the same thing. This book reflects the same twisted mind of a sex crazed heroin addict. There are times when I am really interested in the images he creates, the fantasy seems to build towards an understanding of his fantasy, but then cuts off, and moves on to another seemingly unrelated story. The green newt boy is interesting, the Garden of Delights (God), and the nano police hold my attention and seem to build, but then the text makes a turn to distract, disgust, and bore the reader. I don't consider myself a conservative person, but it is just too much.

The plurk discussion has compells me to open the book without negative expectations each time I pick it up. I want to see what others see in his writings, and understand why this was selected for our class, but again and again I become lost in the cut-ups and put off by the bizarre eroticism. I see some nuggets here and there, little pieces that make me think he is trying to make a point, but it is buried in so much filth.

I will sift through erctions and rusty swamp smells to see what else he has to say about "the Other Half" the nature of begging, and how God is found in an orgasm.

The Identity

I am just finally putting down some thoughts I had after the vacation and partly spurned on by the DJ Spooky seminar.

While I was in Norway for the holiday I was staying right down town, and in a place that I have romanticized for it's traditional values, strong bond to nature, and their progressive government I was disturbed by the amount of graffiti, and not really graffiti but tags - EVERYWHERE. The trains look terrible, my girlfriends doorway had just been tagged, the buildings, benches, signs... nothing is safe. So my initial reaction was that a bunch of stupid kids are getting their jollies by defacing a city, a place that they ought to have some pride in. There was no graffiti on the trains in London, and people not would make big ugly tags on business windows in downtown Bellingham. So, why is this happening all over Oslo? I appreciate art but this is not expression...

But I thought about this, and when I was watchig the DJ Spooky video he opens with a description of the emergence of art and hip hop and his experiences in this emerging culture. The point is made that for a ignored and underpriveleged community, graffiti is a voice. It is the act of remaking the surrounding to reflect the people that reside in NYC.

So here some background may be necessary - Oslo, the capital of Norway, has been experiencing a tremendous influx in immigration. The identity of the city is changing. Norwegians are worried that the Norwegian language may soon become obsolete, because of all the various dialects and a decreasing native population (that is birth rates in Norway are decreasing except amongst immigrant populations). The city of Oslo is a metropolitan area and like it or not, the population is diverse, and no longer filled with blonde haired blue eyed businessmen. The population of Pakistani,Moraccon, and other minorities are not to be ignored. They have as much of a stake in the city's identity as any other. But when their surroundings do not relect the people who make up its inhabitants, they are going to force change. In this case, youth are claiming their parts, it may be a handrail, or a garbage can, but like everyone these people need to feel that Oslo is their home. Without destroying what exists they are adapting and compromising between what exists in their surrounding and within themselves. They speak the language, buy into the styles, and participate in a culture that must also flex to the changing times.

It is not new, and it may not impress me on an artistic level, but I understand the need to "make yourself at home". I ask how I have claimed my surroundings. The rocks climbing areas in which I feel some sense of posession, my office, and my hangouts. These places give me comfort and a sense of place that can be a shelter and provide needed peace from all the stresses of a foriegn place. It takes only a little thing to make a place familiar and welcoming, and when I see "defaced" property I try instead to realize it is "facelifted" and in the dynamic times we live, there is little room for my romantic ideas of how things should be. Perhaps it would be more productive to see how things are, and romanticize how they could be. To make these places comfortable and welcoming, and to give people a place.

The Invention of Morel

This invention of Morel, is a failed attempt at immortality. It is a creation that destroys that which it was designed to preserve. While reading the book, I was struck by the lack of life found in Morel's party. Even Faustine's routine vigil on the hillside seems to be without passion for the setting sun. They are merely repeating the steps of what may have truly been a beautiful week, but it has no meaning and when the main character joins the procession there is no one to observe the show. By the editor's comments we know that someone is aware of the situation, but if the main character's narrative serves as an example, one as nothing to gain from witnessing Morel's party except a sense of emptiness. Driven by isolation and the desire to interact with Faustine, if only on a superficial level, the main character commits himself to an eternity of empty participation in the procession.

In Buddhism one strives to reach enlightenment by releasing oneself from suffering and desire. Morel's Invention may be seen as a form of this release. The main character describes the sensation of his dissolving soul, saying, "I have an absurd impression of the pain: it seems to be increasing, but I feel less." He is overcoming suffering; the suffering of love, of loneliness, and physical pain. His relief differs from the ultimate goal of Buddhism, however, because he replaces his suffering not with the fullness of enlightenment in which one no longer distinguishes between pain and pleasure and simply feels unified with the whole. He is implanting himself into the procession but still to suffer eternally as an outsider. He remains alone and recognizes this cycle of suffering when he makes the dying wish that someone will insert him into Faustine's consciousness.

While Borges may have had no intention of alluding to Buddhism, the novel explores the spiritual cost of immortality, and it is my belief that the failure of such ambitions is shared between Morel's Invention and Buddhism. The value of consciousness and life is a subjective mmatter. Without suffering there is no joy, and without death there is no life. The ultimate release in this reality is the full exploration of suffering and the full awareness of joy. The dying wish seems like a prayer, and in the Christian tradition perhaps his eternity will be tied up neatly and he will indulge in eternal bliss, but for my own sake I will take life today, and welcome pain and joy. With the uncertainty of who will hear our prayers and what life would be without suffering, I argue that we must follow nature and let life happen as it will.