I went to The Threepenny Opera on Friday night, and Mr. Peachum's opening speech about people's emotions made me think of class. (In other words, this blog post is not about the reading.)
He talked about the progression in declining returns when people meet a beggar. The first time they see a beggar, they are generous; the second time, less so; and the third time, they pass by on the opposite side of the street. So, as head of the beggars, Mr. Peachum has to continually come up with new ideas to touch the hearts of the general public and bring them back to generosity. But he knows that nothing he comes up with will last for long.
I know there's an official term for this--emotional fatigue? Emotional overload? Something like that. It certainly exists, and is no less applicable now than in the early 20th century when the musical was first produced. In fact, with the proliferation of causes and needs that come parading into our lives via TV, internet, and people passing out fliers in the West Mall, I would say that we reach the point of fatigue sooner. At some point, in order to protect my own emotional state, I have to say, "No more." And I hate how callous I sound when I say that, even to myself, but it's true; if I get upset over every cause there is, I'll spend all my time unhappy. And that doesn't help anyone.
Mr. Peachum was deliberately and unashamedly manipulative with people's emotions. His livelihood, his family's well-being, and the lives of his "boys" all depended on his ability to resonate with the populous who could spare some coins. Do the ends justify the means? When it's a matter of starvation or not, when the people whose heartstrings are being tugged can afford to give up some change, is the manipulation more acceptable? And if the answer to those two things is "yes", then I should think we have to see ourselves in the same light: Generally speaking, the US is wealthier than most places, so we should expect to see/hear appeals to help. So, is Mr. Peachum right?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Writing/Speaking and Chicken/Egg
I posted the "Writing is prior to speech but not prior to rhetoric" quote on my Facebook page just to see what kind of conversation I could get going (yes, my friends are as nerdy as I am). A couple of people pointed out that this is similar to the chicken & egg dilemma.
Rather than try to reconstruct the entire conversation, let me share where we (more or less) ended.
So presumably early humans had grunt, gestures, and marks of various sorts to communicate. (What I know about early humans is embarrassingly limited, btw, so please excuse the goofs in description as I try to get to a point.) I would call the marks "writing", and the grunts I would call "speech", but the gestures? I don't know. To me who is mindful of ASL I want to say it's speech, but I suppose it could also be called a form of writing. Regardless, the "winner" is the one who can take his or her means of communication and make the next person understand. And not just understand, but also repeat that same grunt/gesture/mark. So, it seems that in the race for written v spoken communication, writing would come first only if markings were communicating a message more clearly.
Someone pointed out that the virtual realm gives us a whole new slant to the topic, since text to speech software was prevalent before speech to text. Could this be a coincidence, or is this a case of technology imitating life, since in that case the written word would precede the spoken?
And finally, to the area of cognition. Some people think predominantly in pictures, some in words, and I'm sure there are some who have an even combination of the two. (We talked this over at home: Chad thinks in pictures, I think in words.) And we know the maxims of "Think before you speak" or "Think before you act", which to me means that I've "written" in my head what I'm going to say or do. So is that evidence that writing comes first in the human brain? Does anyone else do the same thing?
Rather than try to reconstruct the entire conversation, let me share where we (more or less) ended.
So presumably early humans had grunt, gestures, and marks of various sorts to communicate. (What I know about early humans is embarrassingly limited, btw, so please excuse the goofs in description as I try to get to a point.) I would call the marks "writing", and the grunts I would call "speech", but the gestures? I don't know. To me who is mindful of ASL I want to say it's speech, but I suppose it could also be called a form of writing. Regardless, the "winner" is the one who can take his or her means of communication and make the next person understand. And not just understand, but also repeat that same grunt/gesture/mark. So, it seems that in the race for written v spoken communication, writing would come first only if markings were communicating a message more clearly.
Someone pointed out that the virtual realm gives us a whole new slant to the topic, since text to speech software was prevalent before speech to text. Could this be a coincidence, or is this a case of technology imitating life, since in that case the written word would precede the spoken?
And finally, to the area of cognition. Some people think predominantly in pictures, some in words, and I'm sure there are some who have an even combination of the two. (We talked this over at home: Chad thinks in pictures, I think in words.) And we know the maxims of "Think before you speak" or "Think before you act", which to me means that I've "written" in my head what I'm going to say or do. So is that evidence that writing comes first in the human brain? Does anyone else do the same thing?
Friday, February 25, 2011
Was Dr. Doolittle a Rhetorician?
I'm very fascinated by Kennedy's description of rhetoric among animals. It's pretty well-known that animals communicate, even though Kennedy "[has] yet to encounter the term 'rhetoric' in social biology" (6), so it's natural that those who are interested in human rhetoric would also be interested in the communication among other members of the animal kingdom.
I chuckled a bit at "the stag that can roar loudest and longest wins" (4). My husband and I come from loud families, so much so that we frequently remind each other about using inside voices, but Chad (husband) likes to tell me about one of his uncles who used to get drunk and then pick a fight with the nearest family member. As long as the uncle was the loudest person present, he went to be happy that he had "won" the argument. I hardly think this phenomenon is limited to Chad's uncle; not only do most people get louder as they drink, but the idea that the loudest person wins seems to be pretty widespread (like on news shows where the participants try to shout each other down). It would seem that our rhetoric is not so far removed, at least in some ways, from other members of the animal kingdom.
Another interesting parallel comes from the crows, who have "what is known as an 'assembly call,' which consists of a succession of loud raucous cries" (5). That sounds like something also known as a "school bell." And I'm very intrigued to read that "what seem to be undifferentiated chirps or grunts...have clearly differentiated meanings" (6). Most parents learn pretty quickly the difference between "I'm hungry," "I'm sleepy," and "I have no better way to get your attention" when their babies cry, even though all three may sound the same to a friend or family member who doesn't spent 24 hours a day with the child.
Then there's the assurance of my pet-owning friends that their pets are excellent at communicating what they want, or have a knack for finding the worst possible moment for interrupting their owners. I used to have this problem with I lived at home; our cats usually decided when I was done sleeping. On the rare occasion that they waited patiently for me to wake up, they were remarkably good at knowing the exact second that I was awake and would immediately launch into action to make sure I stayed that way. I don't speak Cat, but our cats had no trouble understanding me.
I'm sure the easy answer is "Duh, evolution." But I wonder if we (humans, that is) are reading something into animal communication based on our own experience. Or, to take it a step further (and invoke Douglas Adams a bit): Could animal rhetoric actually be superior to our own, and we just don't know it?
I chuckled a bit at "the stag that can roar loudest and longest wins" (4). My husband and I come from loud families, so much so that we frequently remind each other about using inside voices, but Chad (husband) likes to tell me about one of his uncles who used to get drunk and then pick a fight with the nearest family member. As long as the uncle was the loudest person present, he went to be happy that he had "won" the argument. I hardly think this phenomenon is limited to Chad's uncle; not only do most people get louder as they drink, but the idea that the loudest person wins seems to be pretty widespread (like on news shows where the participants try to shout each other down). It would seem that our rhetoric is not so far removed, at least in some ways, from other members of the animal kingdom.
Another interesting parallel comes from the crows, who have "what is known as an 'assembly call,' which consists of a succession of loud raucous cries" (5). That sounds like something also known as a "school bell." And I'm very intrigued to read that "what seem to be undifferentiated chirps or grunts...have clearly differentiated meanings" (6). Most parents learn pretty quickly the difference between "I'm hungry," "I'm sleepy," and "I have no better way to get your attention" when their babies cry, even though all three may sound the same to a friend or family member who doesn't spent 24 hours a day with the child.
Then there's the assurance of my pet-owning friends that their pets are excellent at communicating what they want, or have a knack for finding the worst possible moment for interrupting their owners. I used to have this problem with I lived at home; our cats usually decided when I was done sleeping. On the rare occasion that they waited patiently for me to wake up, they were remarkably good at knowing the exact second that I was awake and would immediately launch into action to make sure I stayed that way. I don't speak Cat, but our cats had no trouble understanding me.
I'm sure the easy answer is "Duh, evolution." But I wonder if we (humans, that is) are reading something into animal communication based on our own experience. Or, to take it a step further (and invoke Douglas Adams a bit): Could animal rhetoric actually be superior to our own, and we just don't know it?
Life, Enhanced
The idea of extra and/or enhanced body parts is not really new to science fiction. The stylized additions seen in sci-fi also have a real-life and considerably more boring counterpart with prosthetic limbs, artificial joints, and even transplants to some extent, so even when this book was published in 1984 the reader wasn't really in unfamiliar waters.
So it's interesting to see where Gibson has taken this idea in Necromancer. Case being able to neurally access the internet, Molly having implanted glasses that allow Case to virtually come along with her, or Armitage having an entire personality that is built by a virtual intelligence. While there is something intriguing and almost desirable about the benefits of enhancements, I can't say that I would hope that humanity chases that path quite so aggressively as in the novel. Obviously, prosthetic limbs or Lasik surgery are already a commodity-- you can't just get them for free, after all-- but making it a fashion statement is what feels off. This is way beyond tattoos or piercings; it's like pursuing the flashiest car but on your body.
Of course, looking at it that way is just further evidence that the idea isn't so far-fetched. It's not like our society isn't obsessed with the latest thing or the coolest technology-- the entire advertising industry is based around getting people to desire the latest and greatest. So to some extent, I suppose it's only a matter of time before this more-invasive tinkering becomes the norm. Don't we already have gastric bypass surgery, liposuction, and pacemakers?
It's the "invasive" that bothers me, and that I think will cause the greatest hesitancy among the general public. It's one thing to have a phone that I can pull out at any moment to be entertained/informed; it's another thing altogether to have it programmed into my brain. Right now, we seem to be collectively comfortable with technology that is outside ourselves, but to bring it under the skin is kind of creepy. But, technology changes; perhaps this will sound like a silly, old-fashioned point of view in a few years' time. (Perhaps it already does!)
So it's interesting to see where Gibson has taken this idea in Necromancer. Case being able to neurally access the internet, Molly having implanted glasses that allow Case to virtually come along with her, or Armitage having an entire personality that is built by a virtual intelligence. While there is something intriguing and almost desirable about the benefits of enhancements, I can't say that I would hope that humanity chases that path quite so aggressively as in the novel. Obviously, prosthetic limbs or Lasik surgery are already a commodity-- you can't just get them for free, after all-- but making it a fashion statement is what feels off. This is way beyond tattoos or piercings; it's like pursuing the flashiest car but on your body.
Of course, looking at it that way is just further evidence that the idea isn't so far-fetched. It's not like our society isn't obsessed with the latest thing or the coolest technology-- the entire advertising industry is based around getting people to desire the latest and greatest. So to some extent, I suppose it's only a matter of time before this more-invasive tinkering becomes the norm. Don't we already have gastric bypass surgery, liposuction, and pacemakers?
It's the "invasive" that bothers me, and that I think will cause the greatest hesitancy among the general public. It's one thing to have a phone that I can pull out at any moment to be entertained/informed; it's another thing altogether to have it programmed into my brain. Right now, we seem to be collectively comfortable with technology that is outside ourselves, but to bring it under the skin is kind of creepy. But, technology changes; perhaps this will sound like a silly, old-fashioned point of view in a few years' time. (Perhaps it already does!)
Monday, February 21, 2011
I Can't Imagine
This reading was terrifying for me. Not because I was surprised, necessarily, to read that brain injuries can change personalities-- I read too many sports magazines to be surprised by that-- but the details of Phineas Gage's and Elliot's lives falling apart while the men were completely oblivious were horrifying. It's one thing to read a report, however sad, in a sports magazine; it's another thing altogether to read the details printed so clinically.
Elliot's wife and children "could not understand why a knowledgeable person who was properly forewarned could act so foolishly... There was a first divorce" (37). This is the part where I would normally mutter, "I would never..." about Elliot's wife giving up on him. And to a large extent, I would plan not to... but I also hope that as medical science progresses, anyone who is faced with this situation could get more help. It's understandable that people around Phineas Gage would be so uncomprehending of his personality shift, but for modern-day brain injury patients, it feels like there is a lot less excuse for family and friends to not have some understanding that the patient is not at fault.
Of course, the reason that this is so terrifying is that all the knowledge in the world doesn't help when faced with the reality of a changed person. The thought of my husband having no emotion, of him being completely detached, is unthinkable; it would really be a complete personality shift for him to never have the shifts of happy or sad, or excitement, or frustration, or other normal emotional responses. And it's just as bad considering that Elliot's sibling had custody of him, because I would hate to see my brother or sister in this situation just as much as I'd hate for my husband to be in it.
I'm finding it a lot harder to imagine it happening to me, though. Damasio writes, "Try to imagine yourself forever robbed of that possibility and yet aware of the intellectual contents of the visual or musical stimulus, and also aware that once it did give you pleasure" (45). But I can't imagine it at all, because I find it really depressing to think about, except that Elliot was incapable of feeling depression. No, the scary thing to me in this reading is imagining someone I care about losing the ability to have emotion, not the thought of losing it myself.
Elliot's wife and children "could not understand why a knowledgeable person who was properly forewarned could act so foolishly... There was a first divorce" (37). This is the part where I would normally mutter, "I would never..." about Elliot's wife giving up on him. And to a large extent, I would plan not to... but I also hope that as medical science progresses, anyone who is faced with this situation could get more help. It's understandable that people around Phineas Gage would be so uncomprehending of his personality shift, but for modern-day brain injury patients, it feels like there is a lot less excuse for family and friends to not have some understanding that the patient is not at fault.
Of course, the reason that this is so terrifying is that all the knowledge in the world doesn't help when faced with the reality of a changed person. The thought of my husband having no emotion, of him being completely detached, is unthinkable; it would really be a complete personality shift for him to never have the shifts of happy or sad, or excitement, or frustration, or other normal emotional responses. And it's just as bad considering that Elliot's sibling had custody of him, because I would hate to see my brother or sister in this situation just as much as I'd hate for my husband to be in it.
I'm finding it a lot harder to imagine it happening to me, though. Damasio writes, "Try to imagine yourself forever robbed of that possibility and yet aware of the intellectual contents of the visual or musical stimulus, and also aware that once it did give you pleasure" (45). But I can't imagine it at all, because I find it really depressing to think about, except that Elliot was incapable of feeling depression. No, the scary thing to me in this reading is imagining someone I care about losing the ability to have emotion, not the thought of losing it myself.
Aaron Sorkin Strikes Back
I wanted to share this story the first week, when Jenkins mentioned fans expecting a more direct pipeline to producers/directors/etc in Chapter 2, but I'm glad I saved it for a week when we didn't have any assigned reading.
Back in the early days of The West Wing, Aaron Sorkin wandered by the messageboards on Television Without Pity, presumably to chat with fans. One of the site administrators describes what happened next:
Not surprisingly, the people at TWoP saw this episode as an attack, directly from Aaron Sorkin to them, and Shack said as much in his recap. I read the recap then, and I read it again now with the same question: What was Sorkin thinking? It's not like TWoP was the only website for fans of TWW, first of all, and secondly, why would you want to alienate passionate fans like the ones on TWoP? I don't for one second think that Sorkin wrote this episode and never imagined that internet fans, with whom he had communicated in the past, would watch the episode and think he meant anyone but them.
And that leads to another question. This episode aired in March of 2002, when social networking wasn't nearly as established as it is now. So, I wonder: Would he try that sort of stunt now? Or would he know that he'd be torn to bits by the online communities?
Back in the early days of The West Wing, Aaron Sorkin wandered by the messageboards on Television Without Pity, presumably to chat with fans. One of the site administrators describes what happened next:
West Wing writer/creator Aaron Sorkin showed up on the boards one day and engaged the posters in conversation. Things went well until he got into an embarrassing fight with one of his own writers on said boards and the press picked up on it. Sorkin apologized and then disappeared for a while from TWoP. He returned one day to find that some fans (and our recapper) had grown a bit more critical of the show and were finding flaws in the way it presented conflicts, particularly regarding Muslims and feminists. Aaron posted defensively that people were taking his "little show" too seriously and that was just trying to entertain, not make any sort of political statements. Then he disappeared again.Shack (the administrator) recapped this particular episode, The U.S. Poet Laureate, in which one of the subplots has to do with Josh running across a website run as a tribute to him. When he begins to interact, the whole thing blows up as the people running the website turn out to have opinions of their own and don't appreciate Josh trying to run the discussion. By the end, Josh's secretary and the Press Secretary have convinced Josh that all people on the internet are crazy, their judgement is not to be trusted, and really Josh should never have bothered engaging them in the first place.
Not surprisingly, the people at TWoP saw this episode as an attack, directly from Aaron Sorkin to them, and Shack said as much in his recap. I read the recap then, and I read it again now with the same question: What was Sorkin thinking? It's not like TWoP was the only website for fans of TWW, first of all, and secondly, why would you want to alienate passionate fans like the ones on TWoP? I don't for one second think that Sorkin wrote this episode and never imagined that internet fans, with whom he had communicated in the past, would watch the episode and think he meant anyone but them.
And that leads to another question. This episode aired in March of 2002, when social networking wasn't nearly as established as it is now. So, I wonder: Would he try that sort of stunt now? Or would he know that he'd be torn to bits by the online communities?
Source: Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture. New York: New York U, 2006. Print.
Shack. “The Truth, and Other Nuisances.” Rev. of The West Wing: The U.S. Poet Laureate, by Aaron Sorkin. Television Without Pity. Bravo Media, 24 Jan. 2011. Web. 21 Feb. 2011.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Emotional Evolution
While reading these articles, I kept thinking about a scene in Little Town on the Prairie when Laura reflects on the proper display of emotion; "Even Pa and Ma almost halted, though they were too grown-up to show surprise. A grown-up person must never let feelings be shown by voice or manner (228)" That was in 1881; clearly, there have been a few shifts in how emotions are perceived between the time of Aristotle and ourselves.
What's interesting is that for at least one segment of the ancient world, showing emotion was perfectly acceptable; Biblical accounts record that Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, David, and Jesus, to name a few, all wept. And no one around them acted horrified or embarrassed-- at least, not that is recorded. Nussbaum says "In Aristotle's view, emotions are not blind animal forces, but intelligent and discriminating parts of the personality, closely related to beliefs of a certain sort, and therefore responsive to cognitive modification" (303). And yet Socrates, as written by Plato, did not seem to have use for any emotions (315). It would seem that throughout American history our ancestors sided with Plato rather than Aristotle (or Biblical example) and suppressed emotions instead of embracing them.
It is interesting to see how our society has come round to the idea of emotion; from Laura's era of no one being allowed to show emotion (elsewhere in the Little House books, when either parent showed emotion, he or she was embarrassed), to it being acceptable for women to be emotional but not men, to our current state of recognizing that men need that freedom to show emotion as well. Even today, it is still suspect for a man to be too sad (my father, for instance, only sheds tears when someone dies, and even then only sometimes).
Our society is still antsy about emotions, of course-- standing around, unsure and feeling awkward, is the usual response to a sudden outburst of happiness or anger or sadness from anyone. We were channel-flipping as I was thinking about this blog post, and paused at a movie long enough to hear a man say to a crying woman, "When did you turn into such a wuss?" I'd say we still haven't arrived at accepting the "script" that Walker describes as a natural part of the human make-up: "The arousal-state prepares the body for action, and the 'script' for an emotion/intentionality gives the body an action to perform" (82).
Source: Wilder, Laura. Little Town on the Prairie. 1941. New York: HarperCollins, 2004. Print.
What's interesting is that for at least one segment of the ancient world, showing emotion was perfectly acceptable; Biblical accounts record that Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, David, and Jesus, to name a few, all wept. And no one around them acted horrified or embarrassed-- at least, not that is recorded. Nussbaum says "In Aristotle's view, emotions are not blind animal forces, but intelligent and discriminating parts of the personality, closely related to beliefs of a certain sort, and therefore responsive to cognitive modification" (303). And yet Socrates, as written by Plato, did not seem to have use for any emotions (315). It would seem that throughout American history our ancestors sided with Plato rather than Aristotle (or Biblical example) and suppressed emotions instead of embracing them.
It is interesting to see how our society has come round to the idea of emotion; from Laura's era of no one being allowed to show emotion (elsewhere in the Little House books, when either parent showed emotion, he or she was embarrassed), to it being acceptable for women to be emotional but not men, to our current state of recognizing that men need that freedom to show emotion as well. Even today, it is still suspect for a man to be too sad (my father, for instance, only sheds tears when someone dies, and even then only sometimes).
Our society is still antsy about emotions, of course-- standing around, unsure and feeling awkward, is the usual response to a sudden outburst of happiness or anger or sadness from anyone. We were channel-flipping as I was thinking about this blog post, and paused at a movie long enough to hear a man say to a crying woman, "When did you turn into such a wuss?" I'd say we still haven't arrived at accepting the "script" that Walker describes as a natural part of the human make-up: "The arousal-state prepares the body for action, and the 'script' for an emotion/intentionality gives the body an action to perform" (82).
Source: Wilder, Laura. Little Town on the Prairie. 1941. New York: HarperCollins, 2004. Print.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
I Don't Know What You Mean: Misunderstanding on the Internet
What interested me the most in Brown's article was that something that started off as meant to be funny-- Dino Ignacio parodying Bert in various "evil" circumstances-- turned into something much greater. Dennis Pozniak thought it would also be funny to put Bert next to bin Ladin, the image turned up on a Google search, and suddenly Americans are seeing a symbol of their childhood on posters in Bangladesh. The guesses that turned up were many, varied, and incorrect "as Western observers attempted to make sense of the jarring couple of Bert and bin Ladin."
Brown says that "Ignacio was admittedly 'freaked out' by the whole situation," prompting him to take down his original website. His is an extreme example-- not everyone goes from a joke website to the evening news, after all-- but similar misunderstandings happen every day to internet users. Tone, facial expressions, and so on are not conveyed well in text, not even with the help of emoticons. In face-to-face conversation, when such cues are crucial, misunderstandings still happen; how much more so on the internet? I've lost count of how many times I wonder if someone is being serious on Facebook or just joking (Usually it's, "I hope they're joking"), and that is with people I know. The confusion is only compounded when the rhetor is someone I don't know.
I especially appreciate Brown's statement that "We should remember that this is not a problem created by the Web." It isn't, as I've already said; take away the internet and people still struggle with communication. Having the internet at our disposal means that the conversations come faster, the confusing images circulate to a broader audience, and a cross-section of beliefs and cultures are occupying the same space and looking at the same things. No wonder messages get mixed and tempers run high. Brown makes a great point that "the Web offers a place where community happens to us without any sort of intentional gesture"; we're all already here, so we have to make sense of what is happening.
I don't agree with Poster that we should scrap our current lenses of interpretation and make a new one that we can all agree on. After all, if we all interpret everything in the same way, what is the point of discussion? Who needs this community if we all begin and end on the same page? One of the great things about the Web is that it offers a gathering space for people of various viewpoints. Relax one's own outlook a bit, yes, be open to new ideas, certainly, but to suggest giving up previous means of interpretation altogether-- I'm not convinced that is a good idea.
Brown says that "Ignacio was admittedly 'freaked out' by the whole situation," prompting him to take down his original website. His is an extreme example-- not everyone goes from a joke website to the evening news, after all-- but similar misunderstandings happen every day to internet users. Tone, facial expressions, and so on are not conveyed well in text, not even with the help of emoticons. In face-to-face conversation, when such cues are crucial, misunderstandings still happen; how much more so on the internet? I've lost count of how many times I wonder if someone is being serious on Facebook or just joking (Usually it's, "I hope they're joking"), and that is with people I know. The confusion is only compounded when the rhetor is someone I don't know.
I especially appreciate Brown's statement that "We should remember that this is not a problem created by the Web." It isn't, as I've already said; take away the internet and people still struggle with communication. Having the internet at our disposal means that the conversations come faster, the confusing images circulate to a broader audience, and a cross-section of beliefs and cultures are occupying the same space and looking at the same things. No wonder messages get mixed and tempers run high. Brown makes a great point that "the Web offers a place where community happens to us without any sort of intentional gesture"; we're all already here, so we have to make sense of what is happening.
I don't agree with Poster that we should scrap our current lenses of interpretation and make a new one that we can all agree on. After all, if we all interpret everything in the same way, what is the point of discussion? Who needs this community if we all begin and end on the same page? One of the great things about the Web is that it offers a gathering space for people of various viewpoints. Relax one's own outlook a bit, yes, be open to new ideas, certainly, but to suggest giving up previous means of interpretation altogether-- I'm not convinced that is a good idea.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Get on the Bike: Visual Analysis
This image was the first billboard in a series from Manchester, England’s Love Your Bike campaign, which encourages residents to choose cycling over driving. It ran on traditional billboards and also on the “rolling billboards” on the back of buses, and was later a part of a postcard campaign along with the other advertising images. The campaign was aimed at able-bodied motorists, especially overweight motorists, who could choose cycling over driving. (Car ownership and obesity are both lower per capita in the UK as compared to the US, but both are on the rise.)
The cyclist in the image is blurred, giving the appearance of movement and freedom, while the car is still, which adds to the cyclist being in the “fast lane" while the car is not. It brings up exhilaration from zooming along, probably invoking childhood nostalgia of days when cycling was purely for fun. The specially-designed, brightly-colored bike lane has a lot more visual interest, and more fun, than the boring black tarmac next to it. For those who already cycle (and aren’t the target of the ad), it would give a feeling of reinforcement; they are already in the know about the fast lane and might feel pity for (or superiority to) the poor drivers who don’t know what they are missing. Or, the current crowd of cyclists might disagree with the ad, thinking that they don’t want a bunch of newbies crowding their bike paths, and as such could feel irritation or even anger that Manchester would want to take away the thing that makes them different from the motorists, especially since the movement and color around the cyclist give a sense of excitement and a desire to join him.
In contrast, the car is non-moving and boring. It’s not in the fast lane; it’s in the “fat lane.” The driver who sees this would feel uneasy and guilty, especially if he has noticed any weight gain. A more sensitive motorist might also be angry at the implication that motorists are all fat. The car is the same boring color as the road; clearly, the driver of the car has a monotone life in which he merely drives to work and gains weight. The well-maintained, smooth "fast lane" also stands in direct contrast to the uneven, patched-up "fat lane." After a few moments’ contemplation, frustration with the driving way of life will set in, especially when compared with the free-moving, life-enjoying cyclist next to him, although the city of Manchester does run the risk of alienating the more cynical motorists, who might decide the city cares more about bikes than cars. Since these ads were on the backs of buses in Manchester, it’s entirely likely that a stuck-in-traffic motorist saw more than one cyclist whiz by, unencumbered by traffic woes, while the motorist was staring at this ad! If the motorist wasn't already envious of the carefree cycling lifestyle depicted in the image, the sight of a live, non-stuck cyclist ought to bring on the jealousy. This image was designed to make motorists unhappy with their current mode of transportation, by piling on the guilt and irritation while showing how much fun they could be having. Of course, “fat lane” is meant to be funny; the ones who are laughing will be current cyclists.
The desired behavior from this ad is that the motorist would put the car in the garage and leave it there, opting for a bike instead. The point of the campaign wasn’t to sell bikes; it was to encourage residents to use them, for health reasons, for transportation, or for recreation. The image stirs the desire to fight the middle-age spread by leaving the car at home, to reclaim some fun from a humdrum life by cycling instead of driving, and to be released from traffic by using the bright bike lane.
In order to feel this way, the motorist must believe that cycling is fun—again, any childhood joys involving cycling would make the campaign even more effective. The viewer must have bought into the tie between a sedentary lifestyle and weight gain, and also believe that exercise will help combat the weight problem. The viewer who felt guilty about being in the "fat lane" is the one who will be swayed most by this belief; here, the campaign is really pushing for a "Time to get out of the fat lane" response. Any irritation at prevailing traffic conditions would help either message-- that cycling is fun and good for your health--come across more strongly. A motorist who is already uneasy about weight gain, bored with the sameness of life, and/or dissatisfied with traffic conditions would be the one most likely to respond favorably to this ad.
Since this ad is aimed at motorists, it’s safe to say the Love Your Bike campaign is after the wealthier segment of the population—those able to afford cars and bicycles. Anyone in a position to choose between modes of transportation is the main target of the ad, especially anyone who struggles with being overweight or wants a healthier lifestyle. On the other hand, a side group—those who own bicycles, but rely on public transportation or walking—might also be pulled in by the excitement generated by the blurred cyclist, while chuckling at (or ignoring!) the car in the fat lane, since they don’t drive.
Interact With Me: S/R to Jenkins
Henry Jenkins’ Convergence Culture explores the various digital media: How they complement and overlap one another, and how they are used by different segments of the population—the TV executives, movie makers, and journalists who have traditionally controlled the content, audiences who are growing in their participation with media, and those who work in politics.
The television stations once had the upper hand, Jenkins says; “No given cable channel has had the power reach of a CBS, NBC or ABC” (60), because there weren’t any other options. Networks produced it, viewers watched it, and that was the extent of participation. However, with “a move from the three major networks to a cable environment with hundreds of more specialized channels” (66), each outlet has much more competition than in the past. As a result, “fans are seeing more shows reflecting their tastes and interests reaching the air” (62). A shift to fan-driven media is in progress.
Journalists, too, have to adapt to an increasingly-participatory audience; “old media still defines which forms of cultural expression are mainstream” (278), but “what might once have felt like fringe activities are increasingly normalized” (276). Average, non-journalist citizens are pushing back against “mainstream media’s historical gatekeeping and agenda-setting functions” (277) by taking advantage of blogs, YouTube, and the message boards provided by news sites to be sure their voices are heard.
While some are struggling to adapt and change with the fast-moving media front, others have embraced it. Jenkins describes the Wachowski brothers, the creators of The Matrix, who spread the storyline of their movies not only over three box-office films, but also over video games and short films available online (103). Jenkins says, “The Wachowskis were more than happy to take credit for whatever meanings the fans located, all the while implying there was more, much more, to be found if the community put its collective mind to work” (102). Their multi-platform storytelling engaged the audience much more than a traditional film would have done.
The variety of ways to reach an audience in the 21st century means that while those who have traditionally controlled the airways have more avenues available to them, the audience's attention is also spread out, so the professionals now must use more media than ever before. The shift is still being played out before our eyes, and audiences have not hesitated to use the tools newly available to them. From playing out video game scenes in The Matrix, to Harry Potter fan faction, to digging up spoilers for Survivor, or more “serious” forms of communication in the news distribution and presidential campaigns, people are using their opportunities to interact and demanding more spaces to be heard.
Jenkins remarks about The Matrix’s multilayer approach to storytelling, “the depth and breadth of the Matrix universe made it impossible for any one consumer to ‘get it’” (131), meaning that this movie franchise was a collective experience. And a wildly successful one, at that--during the years that the story was unfolding, it was hard to avoid fans on all levels of involvement. Given such enthusiasm from fans, even with a lukewarm response from critics (104), it is unlikely that this model will end up being a one-off experiment that is never seen again. Other filmmakers will see this success and want to tweak the method for their own purposes, while fans who loved the “choose your own adventure” side of the movies will demand more than just a simple story from future films. The Wachowski brothers may not have set out to transform storytelling as we know it, but they may have achieved that transformation.w.
The community of online Harry Potter fan fiction brought another level of participation, as many kids used the sites to make “a self within the fiction” (181) and for some “it was the first step toward constructing a more elaborate fantasy about their life at Hogwarts” (181). What the kids didn’t know about were trademark laws, which Warner Bros. came round to enforce after getting the film rights to the series (194). The online community worldwide banded together to fight back, much to the surprise of WB, who were accustomed to fans acquiescing to their cease-and-desist orders (197). Fortunately for the kids running the sites and for WB (who would have seen a PR nightmare had they persisted), an agreement was reached. This case was an eye-opener for those concerned and anyone who would participate in interaction with an established story; fans now know how to enter a storytelling world without doing any harm, and studios have been served notice that these harmless fans will not go quietly.
Fan participation will change the face of media totally, in many cases for the better but also for the worse from time to time. Traditional media controllers who ignore the public’s wishes do so at their own peril; they cannot continue to exist without the consent of the entertained.
Monday, February 7, 2011
My Marriage Counselor Must Have Read Aristotle
Last time, I found something of Aristotle's that didn't apply to our culture, so I thought today I should, in the interest of fairness, agree with him.
"Bad temper often gets the better of them, for owing to their love of honour they cannot bear being slighted, and are indignant if they imagine themselves unfairly treated" (II.12.1389a.10). This is in the section about young men, directly after his mention of their hot temper. Even without the benefit of modern psychology, Aristotle hit on what is apparently a universal truth of men (although I wouldn't say it's limited to young men). A need for respect seems to be hard-wired into the male psyche.
I'm not saying this to rile up the gentlemen in the class; it's just that I read it and chuckled, because that's what they told me in pre-marital counseling. I've heard it over and over again since, in every marriage book, seminar, women's event, and any other opportunity for marriage tips to be discussed: Men want to be respected. One such book that I read a year or so ago (I don't have it any longer, so I can't credit the source) cited an informal study wherein mixed groups were asked two questions: How many of you would rather be respected but unloved? and How many would rather be loved but not respected? Over and over again, men responded at a nearly 100% rate to the first one. (Women were almost 100% for the second.)
As a perhaps more well-known example, consider Mutt in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. For the first 10 or so minutes that he is onscreen, Mutt overreacts to pretty much everything that is said to him, until Jones finally tells him, "You don't have to get sore all the time just to prove how tough you are" (IMDB). By contrast, even though Mutt says plenty of insulting things to Jones ("You know, for an old man you ain't bad in a fight... What are you, like, 80?"), the older man keeps his cool. This fits in with Aristotle's saying that "[old men] feel contempt for what people may think of them" (II.13.1390a.3). Having had more experience and "been humbled by life" (II.13.1389b.25), Jones sees no reason to get upset.
Perhaps he was exceptionally observant, or culture hasn't changed as much as we thought since ancient Greece, but Aristotle hit this one spot-on.
"Bad temper often gets the better of them, for owing to their love of honour they cannot bear being slighted, and are indignant if they imagine themselves unfairly treated" (II.12.1389a.10). This is in the section about young men, directly after his mention of their hot temper. Even without the benefit of modern psychology, Aristotle hit on what is apparently a universal truth of men (although I wouldn't say it's limited to young men). A need for respect seems to be hard-wired into the male psyche.
I'm not saying this to rile up the gentlemen in the class; it's just that I read it and chuckled, because that's what they told me in pre-marital counseling. I've heard it over and over again since, in every marriage book, seminar, women's event, and any other opportunity for marriage tips to be discussed: Men want to be respected. One such book that I read a year or so ago (I don't have it any longer, so I can't credit the source) cited an informal study wherein mixed groups were asked two questions: How many of you would rather be respected but unloved? and How many would rather be loved but not respected? Over and over again, men responded at a nearly 100% rate to the first one. (Women were almost 100% for the second.)
As a perhaps more well-known example, consider Mutt in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. For the first 10 or so minutes that he is onscreen, Mutt overreacts to pretty much everything that is said to him, until Jones finally tells him, "You don't have to get sore all the time just to prove how tough you are" (IMDB). By contrast, even though Mutt says plenty of insulting things to Jones ("You know, for an old man you ain't bad in a fight... What are you, like, 80?"), the older man keeps his cool. This fits in with Aristotle's saying that "[old men] feel contempt for what people may think of them" (II.13.1390a.3). Having had more experience and "been humbled by life" (II.13.1389b.25), Jones sees no reason to get upset.
Perhaps he was exceptionally observant, or culture hasn't changed as much as we thought since ancient Greece, but Aristotle hit this one spot-on.
Source: Aristotle. “Rhetoric.” The Rhetoric and the Poetics of Aristotle. Trans. W. Rhys Roberts. 1954. New York: Random, 1984. 19-218. Print.
IMDB. “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.” Internet Movie Database. Amazon, n.d. Web. 7 Feb. 2011.
Don't Play With My Toys: Professional Journalists v. The Internet
I'm most interested in what Jenkins has to say about the media being the "gatekeepers" of information. It's interesting that "over time, freedom of the press increasingly came to rest with those who could afford to buy printing presses" (268-9). What began as an "abstract right to participate in a democratic culture" (268) shifted to being invoked more by journalists than common people as the media defended their right to hand out information. While the freedom of the press is absolutely a cornerstone of our democracy, it's interesting to see the reaction of the gatekeepers as "the emergence of new media technlogies supports a democratic urge to allow more people to create and circulate media" (269). He states that "the media industries will not relinquish their stranglehold on culture without a fight" (255). In other words, the traditional media has been running the sandbox for a long time and aren't planning to make room for the new guys who are trying their hand at making sandcastles.
An example from the previous chapter is the polling data from the 2004 election, which news networks withheld but bloggers published; afterwards, irritated journalists "argue[d] that nonprofessionals should not be in the business of reporting or interpreting the news" (227). The media also object in other ways; months after the 2008 election, "Joe the Plumber" took a trip to Israel to do some on-site reporting for a website, and CNN's Kyra Phillips was practically apoplectic: "Oh, Lord, Joe the Plumber's got a new gig," she announced, followed later by asking, "Hey, Joe, what do you know? No, seriously, what do you know?" (Bates) And if that wasn't enough to tip off the general public that Kyra didn't approve of an average person doing on-the-scene reports, she added, "Just want to remind you that Joe the Plumber has no journalism experience" (Bates). Was her ire solely at Joe, or was she speaking to the wide range of average Joes and Janes who have taken the news into their own hands?
Was Kyra's reaction a fluke? Probably not, since Jenkins describes "a smirking Cooper" who, before the Democratic primary debate, "lectured the public about videos that did not belong on national television" (277-8). Such an approach didn't stop the public from seeing the videos that CNN didn't find appropriate, since "the thousands of posted videos drew significant traffic to YouTube prior to the debates" (287), and "afterwards, some who felt excluded or marginalized deployed YouTube as a platform to criticize the news network" (278). Does CNN have the right to decide what appears on its network? Absolutely. Can they control the public's reaction? Absolutely not.
It's totally understandable that journalists, who have put in the time and work to be educated in their field and land a job in a career they (presumably) love, are reluctant to share the spotlight with amateurs. However, the reality of the digital age is upon them, and for traditional media to ignore, brush aside, or outright ridicule citizens who are interested enough in the political process to actively participate online is to invite distrust and resentment against themselves. An adjustment for popular participation in the spread of information will have to be made.
Source: Bates, Mike. “CNN’s Kyra Phillips Unloads on Joe the Plumber.” NewsBusters. N.p., 7 Feb. 2011. Web. 7 Feb. 2011.
Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture. New York: New York U, 2006. Print.
An example from the previous chapter is the polling data from the 2004 election, which news networks withheld but bloggers published; afterwards, irritated journalists "argue[d] that nonprofessionals should not be in the business of reporting or interpreting the news" (227). The media also object in other ways; months after the 2008 election, "Joe the Plumber" took a trip to Israel to do some on-site reporting for a website, and CNN's Kyra Phillips was practically apoplectic: "Oh, Lord, Joe the Plumber's got a new gig," she announced, followed later by asking, "Hey, Joe, what do you know? No, seriously, what do you know?" (Bates) And if that wasn't enough to tip off the general public that Kyra didn't approve of an average person doing on-the-scene reports, she added, "Just want to remind you that Joe the Plumber has no journalism experience" (Bates). Was her ire solely at Joe, or was she speaking to the wide range of average Joes and Janes who have taken the news into their own hands?
Was Kyra's reaction a fluke? Probably not, since Jenkins describes "a smirking Cooper" who, before the Democratic primary debate, "lectured the public about videos that did not belong on national television" (277-8). Such an approach didn't stop the public from seeing the videos that CNN didn't find appropriate, since "the thousands of posted videos drew significant traffic to YouTube prior to the debates" (287), and "afterwards, some who felt excluded or marginalized deployed YouTube as a platform to criticize the news network" (278). Does CNN have the right to decide what appears on its network? Absolutely. Can they control the public's reaction? Absolutely not.
It's totally understandable that journalists, who have put in the time and work to be educated in their field and land a job in a career they (presumably) love, are reluctant to share the spotlight with amateurs. However, the reality of the digital age is upon them, and for traditional media to ignore, brush aside, or outright ridicule citizens who are interested enough in the political process to actively participate online is to invite distrust and resentment against themselves. An adjustment for popular participation in the spread of information will have to be made.
Source: Bates, Mike. “CNN’s Kyra Phillips Unloads on Joe the Plumber.” NewsBusters. N.p., 7 Feb. 2011. Web. 7 Feb. 2011.
Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture. New York: New York U, 2006. Print.
Government & Social Media
I just ran across this article on FastCompany about how the government isn't doing a great job of using social media. Very interesting!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Cool Presentation Possibility
If you're looking for presentation ideas, I ran across a website for TerraCycle, which turns non-recyclable rubbish (like candy wrappers) into fun, usable products. Like this Oreo messenger bag:
People around the world collect the rubbish, send it in, and TerraCycle makes & sells new products, either online or in department stores. I thought I'd share it in case anyone else wants to have a look!
Gaming in the Real World
I just watched yesterday's (Feb 3rd) Colbert Report, and he had a really good interview with Jane McGonigal about gaming and the real-life good that can come from it.
Here's the clip:
Here's the clip:
| The Colbert Report | Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
| Jane McGonigal | ||||
| ||||
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)