Saturday, January 29, 2011

Indignant at Aristotle

Aristotle found at least one thing about human nature that seems to be timeless; "the man who is delighted by others' misfortunes is identical with the man who envies others' prosperity" (9.1386.30). About 75% of internet chatter falls into one of those two categories, I think--and I agree with his statement that "all these feelings tend to prevent pity" (9.1387.5)-- in fact, that's a bit of an understatement. I doubt that pity needs to be prevented for either mindset.

Aristotle speaks from a position of privilege in society, a fact that is made clear by his frequent references to servants, inferiors, and superiors-- his world was definitely divided by class. This is rather foreign to me who has grown up in a culture without hard-and-fast class lines, and in a place where social mobility-- in either direction-- happens all the time. So I take issue with his statements about Indignation, specifically "the newly rich give more offence than those whose wealth is of long standing and inherited" (9.1387.15). I feel the opposite, in fact; I'm a lot more inclined to be happy for the one who has worked hard for what he/she has, than for someone who has position or money because of being born into it. (Of course, if the child of wealth likewise works hard, that's a different story.)

As basis for this opinion, Aristotle says, "what the latter [inherited] have is felt to be really their own, but what the others have is not: what appears to have been always what it is is regarded as real, and so the possessions of the newly rich do not seem to be really their own" (9.1387.25). This would seem to be the argument of even modern-day monied classes, who use the term "nouveau riche" as a slur (while to working classes, it sounds more like a compliment). So for those in a caste system or the wealthy of any age, Aristotle would seem to be correct; to me who is neither, he's way off-base. This cause of indignation really seems backwards to a modern audience.

There is one point with which I half agree: "the newly rich give us more offence by obtaining office through their riches than do those whose wealth is of long standing" (9.1387.20). Again, my modern, working-class mind values those who work for a position, rather than using their money to get there, no matter where the money comes from. In other words, a Rockefeller buying his way into office would be as offensive to me as the Olsen twins doing it, and yes, I would have some serious indignation in either case.

So, while Aristotle's causes of indignation may have been appropriate for his era and position in society, they don't apply by today's standards.

"One More Member of this Knowledge Community"

In Chapter 3, Jenkins explores the knowledge communities in a different direction; before, he was focused on viewers who tried to get their hands on information that was still a secret, but now he has moved on to a different kind of community centered around The Matrix. Participants in these communities already have all the information, but don't know it yet. Jenkins says, "The Wachowskis were... implying there was more, much more, to be found if the community put its collective mind to work" (102). Unlike Mark Burnett, who wanted to keep his audience in the dark, the Wachowskis wanted the fans to find all the clues they had left.

I'll mention the personal context under which I read this chapter: I am not really a Matrix fan. But I'm married to someone who is much more into it that I-- he participated in some of the online communities, and went back for a second viewing with some like-minded friends (i.e., without me) for all three films. In a way, we had a different sort of knowledge community in our home-- Chad the engaged fan was continually sharing with me, the fringe viewer, the stuff he saw online. For instance, he made sure that I watched Final Flight of the Osiris, but when we saw The Matrix Reloaded I didn't catch the reference; Chad had to point it out to me afterwards in a dumbed-down-for-the-non-fan style: "Remember, I showed you the video? They were talking about it at the beginning." But once he clarified it, I finally understood where the video fit and why he had insisted on me watching it in the first place. Even after that, I still didn't realize that the storyline was intentionally spread out across multiple media, so it was fascinating for me to see it spelled out in this chapter.

So the story of The Matrix was set up in order that "to truly appreciate what we are watching, we have to do our homework" (96), which rewards the serious fan and adds to the experience. And clearly, The Matrix has a large following who did play the games, watch the online episodes, and engage in communities to try to put all the puzzle pieces together. Jenkins notes that "viewers get even more out of the experience if they compare notes and share resources than if they try to go it alone" (97). In a way, you might say they've done the movie-going culture a favor, because instead of a fan watching alone, "they encourage various forms of participation and social interaction between consumers" (112).  The Matrix became a tool for bringing people together. C.S. Lewis said, "Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one,'" and there's no reason to think that taking the connection online makes it less of a friendship.

Jenkins also quotes Young, who "worried that the Wachowski brothers may have narrowed their audience by making too many demands on them" (130). Certainly, it seems that those who are willing to go the distance to get the whole story are very much a niche audience, which begs the question: Could (and/or should) the transmedia model be duplicated? At face value it sounds ideal for the sci-fi/fantasy crowd, who already have their communities and conventions. Should Star Trek reward its devoted fans, for instance, by making their next movie into a transmedia experience? You can't throw a figurative rock online without hitting a Trekkie (or maybe that's just the circles I run in); would this be a valuable experiment for that franchise to try next?

It seems a bit premature, with the "transmedia storytelling" (97) still in its infancy, to make a judgement call on whether this is where entertainment will ultimately go. Jenkins points out that "sometimes, we simply want to watch" (134). I don't see traditional entertainment going away altogether; even the most devoted fan needs a chance to veg. But if the transmedia route does pan out, this will be a shining example of Jenkins' convergence; a new media is born from an old media, but the old media is still around and serving its purpose.

Source: C.S. Lewis Quotes. Think Exist. N.p., n.d. Web. 29 Jan. 2011.
Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture. New York: New York U, 2006. Print.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Cyberculture Comparsion Selections

1. Twitter
2. Goodreads

If anyone is still looking, I just ran across bored.com, which is a free game site. There seems to be some kind of community there, although I didn't look around much-- check it out if you are interested!

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Race

Run, run, run. Faster! Time is running out. Keep pushing, harder, faster. Go, feet, go! The finish line is coming! Can't breathe-- don't think about it. Run. Lungs burning-- just concentrate. Run. Don't waste energy wiping off sweat. Run. I can do this. Head down, eyes on the finish! I can see a mass of people near the finish-- my eyes are stinging so I can't see them clearly. They wave, some jump up and down, but I can't hear them. I smell the grass, I see the finish, I taste the salt from my sweat. But my heart is pounding and it drowns out the noise: What are they saying? Do they see the clock? The white line on the ground-- my goal, the end-- teases me as it blurs in and out of focus. Ten feet - five feet - across! I stumble into someone's arms. A crowd surrounds me and keeps me on my feet. Did I make it? I can't see the clock! My heart is pounding; I still can't hear what they're saying-- what was my time? Everyone is patting me on the back, all talking at once; are they giving me good news? Or was all this work for nothing? Someone hands me Gatorade, and I finally hear the words I've been working toward for months-- "Congratulations! You did it!" and she flings her arms around me. Ah, now I collapse.

Monday, January 24, 2011

We Want to Be Heard: Fan Communities

I was struck by the statement in chapter 1 that "For most of us, television provides fodder for so-called water cooler conversations. And...the water cooler has gone digital" (26). This absolutely tracks with my own experience; when The West Wing was still on, I had a hard time finding people in my real life who were willing to talk about it. In order to have a discussion about TWW, I had to go online, and I ended up joining Television Without Pity (TWoP), where I could join the conversation on the message boards. While the TWoP community (at least, those of us on the TWW boards) were not quite so energetic in our spoiling as the users described in chapter 1 of Jenkins' book, I do get the sense that it was the same kind of community, drawn together by our common interest in a television show.

I'm more interested in the aspect of the digital water cooler as discussed in chapter 2, when Jenkins describes "one American Idol viewer who wrote to the CMS/Initiative Media research team convinced that we had a direct pipeline back to the producers" (85). Since Jenkins characterizes the viewer as "convinced", it feels like he is implying that in this instance at least, the viewer was incorrect, or at least that this one letter wasn't going to move the producers one way or another even if they had seen it. Fair enough. However, it's not much of a stretch in the internet age to think that the viewers have more access to producers, writers, and others in the creative process of television than we did before. After all, Jenkins observes, "this organization of audiences into what Lévy calls knowledge communities allows them to exert a greater aggregate power in their negotiations with media producers" (27). Individually, we may be still unheard; collectively, as in the case of the Survivor Sucks forum or TWoP, viewers have a greater voice and demand more attention from those in charge of delivering their entertainment.

Jenkins points this out as well in regard to the Survivor Sucks forum; "The spoilers had every reason to believe that Mark Burnett played an active role in shaping the flow of information around the series...CBS had admitted that they, like many other production companies, monitored the discussion lists for information about the audience" (46). The forum expected that Burnett was watching and listening, even participating, and "there were even rumors...that once a guess circulated broadly, the production staff reedited subsequent episodes to strip out elements they knew the spoiler community was looking for" (47-8). In the case of the Survivor Sucks forum, Jenkins writes, "if ChillOne was a plant or, even better, if Burnett himself was going undercover on the boards, that would be the producer's biggest stunt ever" (48).

In the years since the book was written, many of the television industry have become more obviously interactive with the audience, by starting Facebook pages and Twitter accounts. Those sites are believed to be a two-way street; someone is posting to the sites, so presumably someone on the other end is also reading the responses. As a result, the audience has come to expect more accessibility and more response from the TV industry-- we are looking for a dialog, not a monologue. Jenkins quotes a fan who complained, "I want CBS to play the game. They are not playing the game," (48) expressing disappointment at a production company who didn't meet the expectations of the "conversation" between producer and audience. One way that The West Wing audience tried to talk back to the producers was with the ultimately-ineffective "Save Sam Seaborn Society", which was so widespread that Rob Lowe himself heard of it and mentioned it in interviews (Mellyjane40).

Obviously, the networks are never going to please everyone, and with such a large viewing audience (worldwide, for some shows), they can't possibly hear from and respond to every single fan while still producing a show. There just aren't enough hours in a day. It seems that the best hope for fans to be heard, at least for now, is to form into Lévy's "knowledge communities" (27) and get the industry's attention through sheer numbers. It will be interesting to see how this plays out, with expectations on both sides: Viewers want to be heard and respected, and program executives will surely expect continued loyalty in return. The internet will certainly continue to facilitate this dialog between fans and producers. Perhaps the relationship between viewers and the TV industry will evolve to resemble a symbiotic relationship more than a commodity-driven marketplace. In any case, it's fun to watch and even more fun to take part in.

Source: Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture. New York: New York U, 2006. Print.
Mellyjane40. Online posting. Television Without Pity. Bravo Media, 22 June 2004. Web. 24 Jan. 2011.

Thursday, January 20, 2011