Cyborgs

I just listened to the podcast about "cyborgs" and was fascinated with the ways we alter ourselves. Even just wearing eyeglasses is an alteration or augmentation. With the advent of cell phones, I'd say that most people, then, are part cyborg, as we willingly communicate through space without our bodies being present. We form images in our minds of who we're talking to, but we never actually see the person at the other end of the phone.

I was also interested in the discussion of how easily we give up or change our identities when the computer tells us to. The computer is supposed to be our tool, yet when it denies our passcode, we immediately pick a new one, many times the one that it gives us. I did that with my internet passcode, and have done that for other programs. I guess I feel that I have no choice, but to do what the computer tells me, without self-awareness, I give up my ownership of my identity.

It's amazing how subtly the computer works and what easy access we give it to our lives. I feel that we are not in charge, in most cases, when dealing with the computer, and I wonder what the results of this lack of control will be in the future.

The Magic Circle

The Magic Circle reminded me of Burke's terministic screens. We each have our own perceptions and group identities that we relate to. Niemeyer said that "you expand your perceptions with deliberate actions," which I took to mean that one must open oneself to ideas that may be new or different from one's own, in order to grow as a person. I liked his description of the football game as a Magic Circle in which rituals take place to start the game, such as the kickoff and the standing crowd, and rituals take place to end the game. One knows that one is leaving the Magic Circle when the teams shake hands and leave the field. Another interesting thought was the discourse that we use at games; words that we don't usuallyuse in our daily life, and that we leave behind when we leave the stadium. So much unspoken common agreement goes into the creation of a Magic Circle, and I am amazed at how we take our interactions for granted.

The Oxford English Reference Dictionary says that to plagiarize is to “take and use (the thoughts, writings, inventions, etc. of another person) as one’s own” (1107), which seems clear until one comes to the idea of pictures, graphics, paintings, collages, and the like. Nowhere in the definition does the dictionary mention images, but it’s obvious that if one were to attempt to claim Ansel Adams’ photography as one’s own, one might find herself in a court of law.

So, while we accept that some images are the creator’s property, and to copy them would be an act of plagiarism, or copyright, how do we define this new world of remediation in which television, video games, and movies are constantly remediating ideas and images? Are some images endowed with more meaning than others, just as the West has endowed writing with a deeper meaning than imagery? Will the answers be decided in a court of law, or will an unwritten agreement be acknowledged, that certain powerful companies, like Disney and Time Warner, may loot what they like, while others must obediently follow the rules?

I was at the C.S. Huck Children's Literature Festival yesterday, where author Candace Fleming spoke of remediation, and how it affects the way she writes now. She practically pulled a page out of Bolter and Grusin's book, Remediation, when she complained of how CNN uses the "split screen" (191) for its newscasts, causing an ADD effect that the viewer has now taken on as "normal." As she writes history, she is under greater pressure to attract and retain readers, who are, she worries, accustomed to "visible multiplicity" (190). Fleming shared with us a page from her book, Abe and Mary, which she originally wanted to name Abe and His Babe. The page was a collage of pictures, paragraphs, graphics, bullets, and captions. She said that the reader no longer needed to start at the beginning of the book. He or she could jump in anywhere, as well as to anywhere, in the book without confusion. The narrative is gone. Yet, while she is still adjusting to this new style of layout, she is also writing old fashioned children's books in the normal 32 page layout. With one foot in the past, and one in the future, Candace Fleming is coming to terms with remediation.

In the Time article, "Taming the Cyclone," Micheal Sherer notes that Obama's team is facing "a news cyclone, a massive force without beginning or end that churns constantly and seems almost impervious to management. In response, Obama's advisers have had to remake the rules of presidential p.r." (18). They still use newspapers, brodcasts, and magazines to communicate their messages, but now they must create and stay on top of the latest technology; such as, websites, blogs, e-mails, facebook, Twitter, and I imagine much much more. The good news is that a lot of young kids will be getting new jobs managing all those sites. The bad news is that it's impossible to control information coming from less reliable sites. It will take an organized person, with a cool head, and a lot of techno support, to keep the endless "swirl" of communication under control and channelled through the proper sites. Information is a good thing, but sometimes too much of it is mind numbing.

I was reading in the March 15, 2010 edition of Time Magazine, about the plight of the U.S. Postal Service. It seems that so many people are e-mailing now that the postal service is losing tons of money - "$238 billion...over the next decade" to be more exact. The article also says that "4 out of 5 households with Internet access now pay bills online..." (16). Will there come a time when everyone pays bills electronically? I wonder what our postal service will look like fifty, or one hundred years from now. Will the cost of a stamp be $5.00 in order to defer costs? Will mail only be delivered two days a week? As it is, there is talk of the end of Saturday service.
Who knew that technology would affect an institution that has been taken for granted since the early days of our country.

And will we see "all classic texts finally become avilable online," as Bolser and Grutin suggest could happen. Will our libraries become vacant storage houses for antiquated books? Kindle and its kind seem to be hurrying that scenario along, but I hope that the feel of the actual book, and the turning of the pages will keep people coming back to the real thing.