Concert of Voices

Eli Pariser: “Technology is evil and moneymaking greed will be the ultimate downfall.”

Clive Thompson: “Technology is sooooo awesome, dude.”

Anil Dash, Chris Anderson, Seth Priebatsch, and Jane McGonigal: “We have a social responsibility to use the power of technology to solve big world problems.”

The last message is my favorite. Just as I appreciated Thompson’s optimism, I find it very v

Heist-like dynamics make the best networks.
Best metaphor in a while.

aluable how the speakers we viewed this week advocated not simply for the benefits of technology, but introduced a type of responsibility we as technology-users have to affect and change. With the power of networks to spark crowd-accelerated innovation coupled with the team-building and motivational affect of game dynamics, we have little right to complain about issues before actively working, using the tools at hand, to combat them.

Dash said, “We create opportunities for people to do unexpected and great things when we make networks that are more inclusive.” He pointed out that networks afford individuals who are not “well-born” or privileged to have a voice. Rural farmers can connect with world-leading visionaries if they choose the proper channels. Or, consider one of the largest networks that exists, Facebook.  Although Marc Zuckerberg, the creator, is an incredibly influential (not to mention wealthy) entrepreneur, in reality he is shy and somewhat awkward (as remembered forever by the Business Insider). Yet, the man who never really outgrew his baby face rose to the highest ranks in technological influence. His intelligence and drive notwithstanding, he had an entire network of users who loved his product, shared it with their own networks, and supported the continuance of it. He was able to spread his idea until it became bigger than any social difficulties he experienced, and people respected him for it. I also enjoyed Dash’s discussion of how, with the right network, things become transparent. Many sets of eyes equals fewer places not seen.

When Anderson said, “Giving away what you think is your biggest secret invites others into helping make it better,” I was reminded of the discussion we had on copyrights and intellectual property. Rather than “keep your cards close to your chest,” Anderson advocates free sharing of ideas that they may be improved. Of course, this concept begs questions like, “who gets the profit?”, “who gets the rights?” and so forth, but I still found his point, that only when we have entire groups of people motivated by others to do better, do things really progress in monumental and novel ways.

Priebatsch cracked me up, from his college-dropout jokes to his incredibly intellectual and inspiring discussion. While I hear his idea of the “game layer,” visualizing it is an entirely different matter and calls to mind questions regarding power and control. The game dynamics he lays out are theories of human interaction and behavior, and to harness them is to control how humans act. Priebatsch hopes to use them towards positive ends, like education, but how can we moderate these dynamics so they do not negatively affect or control our behavior? In the simplest form, do we risk compromising free will and choice in integrating and increasing proficiency these dynamics?

Finally, McGonigal. Honestly, I was offended how often her audience laughed at her propositions! You could immediately sense the audience held prejudice and distain for gaming. Yet through her discussion, I recognized the incredible space that games present for solving problems as we imagine ourselves super-powered hopeful individuals. Simulators have been used for years, from crash-testing to training astronauts, so why not implement them to solve problems? If we can create systems, where the individuals interacting within these systems are able to shake the insecurities and limitations we face in everyday life, the solutions and innovations coming from such a system go beyond imagination. I greatly respect her encouragement that we “make the future” through harnessing technology, rather than simply watch it develop. It returns to the concept of responsibility. With the tools we have, are we morally compelled or obligated to activate the networks and crowd source knowledge that lies at our fingertips, to address current crises? Such a question cannot be easily answered, but these authors take important steps, and their work is the type we need to encourage, promote, and build off of.

Gaming is rad, but if the genre is to be one of empowerment, we need to address
 the ubiquitous design of female characters as sexualized and objectified.  Show me the 5'2" 125 lb.,
love-handled character who can beat all odds, and I'll be playing for life.

A More Positive View

Globally, I appreciated and found fascinating (and comforting) Thompson’s discussion of how technology in the digital age is shaping our cognition, social spheres, and education for the better. Although I found his writing style overly anecdotal, it struck me that Thompson provided a rich, well-thought and evidenced argument for how technology—from the internet to artificial intelligences—will improve humanity, rather than how society will “cope” or “adapt” to increasing technology.

It seems, lines of technology-doubting thought emerge heavily in humanities departments. Perhaps because the studies of English, History, Literature, and so forth rely on extensive examinations of previous texts and ancient lines of thought, individuals working, learning, and writing within those environments more often recognize the value of past influences rather than future ones.

Especially after reading The Filter Bubble, Thompson’s discussion was a refreshing new look

at technology, and his conclusion, that when we face increasingly sophisticated and powerful tools for seeking answers we need to “think of harder questions” (p. 290) struck me as insightful and timely.

An element I particularly appreciated was how Thompson showed that technology plus humans was a far more powerful, valuable, and influential force than simply technology alone. From his “centaur” computer-human chess playing teams, to the January 25th Egyptian citizen revolts, technology was shown to empower humans, from acting as a thinking-extension to providing a global communication forum, rather than taking on an independent or formidable identity of its own. Speaking of the chess teams, he writes “Because Cranton and Stephen were expert at collaborating with computers, they knew when to rely on the machine’s advice” (p. 4). Same with the teenage girls protesting the beef imports, or the Shifang citizens successfully stopping the copper plant construction, Thompson seems to conclude that humans already posses the capability and courage to accomplish notable feats, they often just lack firepower. And technology offers just that.

As Thompson discussed “lifelogging,” I remembered a recent interaction. My twenty-something friend offhandedly mentioned his high school Twitter account one day, as it related to the conversation, saying he rarely checked it anymore. Curious, and motivated by the fact that we new friends but had spent a fair amount of time together, I was interested in what this social media account would reveal about him. After tracking it down, for he had forgotten the username, I scrolled through his Tweets and laughed somewhat astonishedly and reproachfully as I read snippets of sexist blunt humor, dissatisfaction for his living situation, thoughtful musings on life and God, and (my personal favorite), “See so many people with rings on their fingers these days...won’t catch me ending my life on purpose.” As you can imagine, I was slightly offended and put off by his comments, because my current conception of him was of a sweet, sarcastic but also respectful, motivated, and content human being. To my objections, he replied, “You can’t be mad at my 18-year old self!” And, of course, he was right.

As human beings, we should have the right to permeability, to change. That version of my friend was one that no longer existed, although remnants of his fieryness and snark certainly lived on, elements I had come to appreciate. But the fact I could, through some snooping, pull up a laundry list of Tweets written by his overly-confident-jock-high-school-rebellious-self speaks to an unfortunate aspect of technology and the Internet. If less forgotten does not equal more remembered (p. 33), the Internet has an uncanny knack for remembering that which should, in time, perhaps be forgotten.

A conversation often sidestepped in
discussion on Artificial Intelligences...

Of course, technology will never be “natural,” but I think that as it continues to progress, it will amplify natural elements of humanity (like brain power, courage, etc.), rather than disrupt natural orders like time passing and old versions of ourselves being remade to the present. Thompson writes, “The future of public thinking hinges on our ability to create tools that bring out our best” (p. 76) The wide array of technological benefits, from increasing the production of writing to uniting marginalized individuals around social causes to strengthening connection and weak ties through ambient awareness all point towards a powerful future with possibility. We have the brains, technology might just provide the firepower and processing ability we need to reach an even greater potential.

The Ethics of Online

Reading Wysocki & Johndan Johnson-Eilola’s text the second-time through (thankfully, this text marks the final of pieces I read ahead of time, in my unfortunate habit of reading wrong assignments), this jumped out:

“Importantly, if we value this search engine—which is in effect the front end to a database—

if we value this as a form of writing, then we can then begin to argue that the sorts of choices one makes in writing the database—for example, what categories to include, what to exclude; which category to put first; etc.—we can start to argue that these choices involve responsibilities to the reader and to society, just as we now do in other, more traditional forms of writing.” (p. 220, emphasis added)

In the margin, I scribbled ethos. In Advanced Composition, Kate Ryan devoted the second
portion of the semester to studying this concept, which I self-defined as, “Both the process and product of constructing, as a writer, the trustworthiness of your character as it reveals in your text and the exigency of the text’s situation.” In light of reading The Filter Bubble, I am questioning whether or not we should (or even can) demand an ethos from web-writers equal to that of traditional print writers. How do we justify rigorous expectations from authors of scientific journals, yet allow code writers to make their own rules—rules which do not always favor the at-large mission of furthering public knowledge? The debate comes back to a "great power/great responsibility" situation, just like we initially discussed regarding rhetors and the persuasive power of speech.

When Kohl wrote, “…from this point of view, it is only about the structural and thematic organization of the texts and not about the process of writing,” (p. 173) I recognized that he was differentiating between what “makes” a thing. Is it the process or the product? Most teachers and professors ban Wikipedia use in their students' composition, because of its supposed unreliability; that is, the finished product is an unstable text not trustworthy to cite. Yet, observing the process of a page on Wikipedia can reveal great amounts of knowledge regarding identity construction, how history adjusts according to interpretation and time, and how multiple writers create and negotiate text in social spaces. The end-product becomes a by-product for the rich process, Kohl seems to say, urging for the developmental history of a page to become the focal point of attention. Kohl further points out the changing nature of texts—from the dissolution of author and recipient (p. 170) to time becoming a dimension of the text (p. 174), the stable, static, hardcover books is the romantic remnant of a writing past gone by. 

 I am recognizing more and more the value of students' blogging, just like we do right here, right now. Text was never stable, and the interwebz only reveal, increasingly, its dynamic movement and change. Writing a blog allows the student to reflect on the temporarily and contingent nature of their text, as well as reflect on its change and metamorphosis over time. We are, in effect, creating textual timelines of our thought processes throughout the class. How cool is that? It's incredible.

But returning to ethos, how are we to transfer over expectations for credibility from the print world to the digital one? Are the same criterion for honesty and trustworthiness applicable? What is the importance or implications of a web writer’s ethos? The speed of developing technology dashes along at a quicker pace than public and scholarly response to these questions, and I think we should more actively attend to issues of online ethos.

The glare from my process reflection is bright...

Well, this project was difficult. As I brainstormed ideas and attempted to pin down concepts, I struggled between creating form and content. See, I have always learned to prioritize content over form. Writing traditionally, I develop ideas, research, write outlines, and then lay it all down on the page, the form emerging as a final, somewhat non-chosen, step.

While attempting to create the infographic, my mind spun with numerous ideas regarding form. Layouts, colors, charts, shapes, and fonts buzzed around in my head, rather than ideas for actual content. It seemed every time I landed on an idea, the form possibilities would take over and push me in the direction of another one.  I had ninety-nine ideas, but content wasn't one; I was thinking so greatly on what it would look like, I could not decide what it would be about. The two, of course, are inextricably linked. Yet this dual-developing, trying to draft a form and content that are cohesive, not redundant, but complimentary and filling each other’s shortcomings, was like trying to speak two different languages simultaneously. I am so very native in English, it seems my default for thinking. I rarely think or imagine in images as some do, and so it follows that conceptualizing with a foreign tongue would prove difficult.

Another aspect that frustrated me was exactly that—the multiplicity of form ideas, compared to fewer content ideas. I was imagining banners, dreaming of icons and Venn diagrams, hypothesizing adding Gifs and sound bytes, and wishing I knew how to write parallax code. My abilities once again favored writing, and my technological prowess stood no chance at meeting the breadth of my ideas. I spent a good portion of the brainstorming session wishing that digital rhetorics was taught earlier on, in high school or middle school, so that my brain had time to develop this two-tiered invention process, where I can think in form as simply as I think in content. I see great potential in fields where the physical appearance of thing speaks as loudly a message, or louder, as its explicit text. Form has always been a major player in the meaning-making sphere; we are just coming to notice it even more now.

As Friday drew near, I eventually settled on an earlier idea for the infographic that I knew I could create with less brain-ache, albeit my perfectionist drive to create the "best" would suffer. I read that smokers’ brains come to associate positive vibes with the color and look of a cigarette pack, and I had also read the timeline of bodily processes post-quitting, and thought they would make an interesting combination. Further, I feel that many stop-smoking campaigns focus on the negative aspects of continuing, rather than the positive aspects of quitting. Make someone stressed about their blood pressure, and their immediate stress-response will be to light up. But show the positive compound-effect of quitting, that every day without a cigarette adds more to their life, and smokers can respond with optimism and motivation. While putting the graphic together, I found myself considering aspects like font more than ever before. What mood does this convey? Does it feel proud, professional, comforting, ominous?  What does the angle of a line change?  Also, it is safe to say I spent a large portion of the invention process being 1.) disappointed that Google did not have the graphics I sought, and 2.) using Ctrl + arrow keys to shift everything around in micro-movements, until it all fit together. Like the finesse of final editing, you strive for balance and readability, and while the process may seem agonizing at times, it is crucial for reader experience.

Regarding number one, I was stoked on creating an infographic showing the steps of basic fly fishing casts, but could find little art on the subject to aid my graphic. Of course, were I a design-ninja I could have simply sketched something, but of course, I am a writer. In one way, the rhetorical situation was one that asked writers to become graphic designers, and thus I was bound by Google's search results (cue discussion on Filter Bubbles.)  The rhetorical situation also heavily involved technology, and thus when my computer froze up and refused to run Power Point at normal speed, I was constrained.  Thankfully, the library has speedy computers, but they also kick you out at 8:00 p.m. on Friday nights, did you know that?  I didn't.

In the future, I will start my intense thinking/mental drafting process much earlier. And, I will choose something that passionately interests me, something that I geek out about. Creativity takes excitement, at least that’s my opinion. This project honed my practice of stress-working, but also my belief that the digital realm of writing is rich with possibility for meaning-making.

If I had more time, I would change subjects, probably following through on the casting diagram, or perhaps something entirely different. With these projects, I can burrow down deep and pull out my perfectionist and creative side, and sometimes make magic. But, my inspiration was absent, and even though I called and beckoned and whined and demanded, it did not show its lovely face.  I have been considering how we beckon imagination...or is it un-beckonable?

Of course, the struggle is always good. It drove me nearly crazy to feel I had the abilities but lacked the inspiration, but also pushed me to consider how it is we come by those ideas.  Perhaps they often arise unpredictable, and when they strike, we better be ready.  But less unpredictable, I think we need to train our minds to think in both content and form-- to consider how an idea looks alongside what it means; to consider ideas from a visual perspective.  We need better, more multiple ways of seeing, so that when we create, the layered-content/form process will come naturally, and with less struggle.

I know even more now how digital designers face incredibly complex work, how the form will speak for itself if the writer does not intend it to speak something else, and that to better my sketching skills is to better my communication and meaning-making skills, who would have thought. (-:

Warning, this may get (I N F O) G R A P H I C

Also, here's a more complicated version, with the URLs working.

One more thing...here are my main sources for y'all who want 'em.
http://whyquit.com/whyquit/A_Benefits_Time_Table.html
http://www.healthline.com/health-slideshow/quit-smoking-timeline#1
http://www.webmd.com/smoking-cessation/features/surviving-without-smoke

Photo Essay Proposal

…I am not entirely sure what I will do here. Image and text are two very complex and meaning-rich discourses, each with an attitude of its own, and sometimes it seems, a will of their own too. Combining the two in a manner cohesive enough to create fluidity and enriched meaning, but notso cohesive so the text/image act as redundant counterparts seems a bit like asking two intelligent, strong-willed, creative, and somewhat-mischievous children to play together. Let’s just say supervision will be required.

I am not entirely sure what will happen, not because I lack vision for what I want to do, but because it seems anytime we bring two modes together, something happens in the collision of modalities—meaning unexpectedly creates itself. So, I have a plan, but I am also quite prepared for the essay to create rhetorical forces of its own, as it presents different modes in conversation with each other. Who knows what they might have to say?

Research Question:
Wysocki demonstrated how our world, and thus our writing and media, have traded particularities for abstracts, and learned to devalue the “particular and the messy.” Yet, anyone who switches on daytime television will find a jackpot of soap operas revealing the messiness of personal life, for everyone to see. So, we do not live in a culture devoid of recognizing particularities and “imperfections,” but we limit them to specific times and places. In light of this, I aim to investigate what qualifiers are currently used to determine something is “too” personal or particular, and what do these “TMI-indicators” reveal about values and epistemologies? You could categorize my research question as epistemologically-based, but I believe the end result will also merge into discourses of feminist theory.

What I don’t know, that I would like to, is how can we integrate the “particular and the messy” without becoming overly explicit, or unnecessarily self-focused? How can academics begin to integrate themselves into their pieces as more than abstract authors? Since language at its core is abstraction, is it capable of portraying the non-abstract, and if so, how? If we all held different ideas of concepts in our heads, we would certainly find difficulty in communicating, so how can we balance accepting/recognizing specificities while also maintaining general understandings needed for human communication that will always be mediated?

I feel a question that the epistemological/teaching field has yet to answer, lies in regard to measuring the “Quality” (and if you know Pirsig, you know what I mean) associated with exposing these particulars. How can we get students talking and writing about their non-abstract selves, without getting long strings of gushing self-referential prose that does not successfully inspect or shed light on greater issues?

Methods:
I intend to include, throughout my essay, pictures of bodily aspects usually photo-shopped out—from moles to stretch marks to scars to wrinkles. I hope to utilize the strength of up-close images as a metaphor for examining subverted aspects of our thought processes and evaluation processes, just as these elements of bodies are often subjugated or sidestepped. I intend to spend a good amount of time looking at similar photo essays approaching this topic. Mining the comments on online articles is an excellent way to understand the different perspectives people take, especially when you encounter fiery objection. I am sure Wysocki and I will become close friends throughout this process, and New Media also offers a nice bibliography of related texts that will be mined. Also, besides the usual Academic Search Complete/Artemis/CompPile searches, I would love to take pictures of these “flaws” and talk to people about their own views of the particulars of their bodies. There are also some good pieces critically analyzing the “nude” as an art form, and whether that is a positive step towards non-objectification or not, a discussion I find fascinating and helpful. I also would like to find instances where writers shared particulars of their lives and it worked well rhetorically, verses when it went south, and why.

Speculations on Resulting Text:
Going back to the beginning, I am not entirely sure what this finished project will look like. It will probably be on pages, with writing and photos. That’s two things for sure. I am toying with the idea of creating two versions—a nice digital copy to submit online, and a “raw” copy that is hand-written, with the pictures taped onto the pages, representing more of a body with character than an abstract document with letters. But we will see. I think, I hope, it will cover a wide variety of topics, but unite them back around the struggle of “what gets priority in visual texts” and finding balance between unhelpful self-exposing and beneficial revealing of our particulars. I think it will look like a conversation of, in making meaning and communicating, where should the personal arise in a manner that furthers knowledge for all?

Only 643 words! A new record, for certain.

Marginalia...are students discouraged from "thinking outside the box?"

Remember back when I accidentally read Wysocki, when I should have read Wysocki/Johnson-Eilola? Apparently my syllabus-reading skills took a turn for the worse earlier on this semester. In any case, I wrote this on Multiple Media then:

“"Each aspect...involves choice" (p. 132). To me, that fragmented quote encapsulates the entire text. As I went through the examples, I was struck by how traditional academic essay formats reflect the very tenets which "rational" meaning making teaches. Unchanging lines of simple, identical text void of color or diversity do not compel the reader to consider the context of the piece. Instead, the reader receives the unconscious message that context is irrelevant, and only the non-physical ideas, the concepts or theories addressed within matter. Even margins imply that the text's meaning is easily encapsulated, existing as a stand-alone entity and not worthy of critical analysis on the situatedness of the piece. The format of parallel lines, each page mirroring the others, makes the reader disregard materiality and temporality. We become lost in the lofty ideas, and forget to make connections, to consider the author's narrative paradigm and contextual intent-- we forget the author breathes, hurts, longs, laughs, and most importantly, wants.”

I hold these same ideas in mind now. Bernhardt does a nice job demonstrating the rhetorical effectiveness of visual layout within text. The physical arrangement of text can point towards certain sections, appeal to wide audiences, compact information, and purposefully guide the reader through a piece of writing. Bernhardt ends by encouraging students and teachers to study and experiment with visual text, and explore the potentials and capability for creativity and effective communication therein. I believe Bernhardt’s mission is valid, but equally important is the notion of exclusion—where is the visual purposefully ignored or subverted? Like my commentary on Wysocki, we can learn and see incredible implicit messages if we look at places where we usually overlook—blank margins, for example.

If punctuation is “illustrations without pictures” (p. 283),

...because I have always wanted to post this, but lacked
the proper textual environment.

then these small symbols are equally important in creating textual meaning, yet too often overlooked. For example, where are all the exclamations in academic writing? Isn’t anyone excited about all this knowledge? Or would such an “overt” display of excitement betray emotion, which would supposedly reveal fallibility or weakness? Also, if effective punctuation creates a “harmonious interrelation between punctuation and words” (p. 289) then what happens when we purposefully break this convention? Surely I am not the only person who often wants to write with repeated ellipses…because you see, nearly every thought I have and sentence I write is not so encapsulated and contained….but rather, one leads to the other...no one thought contained or disconnected from the next...yet many of my “in-between thoughts”…those between one and the other…are left unwritten.
 The very conventions we take as “normal,” ”universal,” or “obvious” were chosen and created with a purpose, even if that purpose was to subvert critical analyzation of the choosing. Wysocki notes how the acts we take to move through a text speak volume about the relationship of the textual elements therein, as well as the relationship between reader and text that the text asks or expects through its layout. It is important that we recognize the implicit value a period (rather than an exclamation mark!) implies, not so that we can go on rampages of punctuation-less writing (which is very confusing, simply read A Pickle for the Knowing Ones or Plain Truth in a Homespun Dress by Timothy Dexter, an autobiography written without punctuation) but simply so that we can see the subconscious binds which constrain our language. Then, after seeing we can choose whether to keep or to disregard...whether to operate within the existing conventions or push outside of them...whether it is important to call to attention such conventions or let them be...a question which will inevitably shape the type of writings we create.