A Flea

The long tail is a foreign place to me; I don’t dwell in the niche markets of Internet retailers. I’m not a hit-lover, but it seems more and more that I’m just not a media consumer to the extent of an average person of my age.

I think if one was to explore my iTunes history, they’d find one purchase of a certain mixtape, and nothing else but apps. The Internet is not my source for television, movies or books. The music I do download is anything but legitimately procured, and is often a hit of the now or then that I’ve just remembered is enjoyable.

The long tail is still a fascinating – and brilliant – development, and it actually makes sense. My mother turns to the Internet when she wants a song she knows will be hard to locate, as iTunes is sure to have it. I have a collection of songs from my favourite artist that are only found on YouTube. My sister downloaded the entire series of ‘That’s So Raven’, and gave me ‘Invader Zim’. If only I got ‘Sheep in the Big City’ to match.

Thanks anyway, Sis. I do like Zim.

The rise of the autre is upon us, and I’m willing to give into the revolution. Was that over-dramatic? Yeah, probably, but watch me care.

How does the flicking Long Tail affect media production today? As Chris Anderson (I may have made that name up) said, the hit will always exist. Perhaps, and this might be optimistic, producers and production houses might sit down and realise that there is an eternal market for the obscure now, and that rather than pay for three expensive films of obvious popular culture-friendly content, maybe ten risky projects could be funded.

It’s time for a bit of a plug: I’m working on a show. I don’t have a big producer looking down on me, making sure my technique is adequate (no teeth), I am a producer. This is a show created by my friends and I, and it will most likely be broadcast on the little know community network C31. And that’s fine: there are limitations associated with this, but there are also freedoms. We don’t need to find a market share instantly, because C31 doesn’t expect one. This means one thing: we get to do – more or less – what we want. For a television show!

This probably isn’t as exciting for anyone else, but I keen to get started on a show with almost full creative control to us, because if I get into television production like I want to, this will never happen again. Television is about those numbers, and DVD sales rarely come into it as a factor. Hell, my show is likely to disappear into the ether never to be seen again once it’s over. Of course, we’ll put it online for the handful of people who are curious to watch it, and I’m probably keener to see how it fares on the server than how it goes on the idiot box.

Something we’ve actually considered is putting the show online straight away, and bypass television broadcast. We wouldn’t be able to find that market of people-watching-C31-because-they’ve-stopped-caring-about-life, and we’d have to market ourselves, but the end result would be the same, with added freedoms.

C31 doesn’t like drugs. We wouldn’t have to have room for ad breaks. The length of our episodes is less concrete.

I guess that’s the gift of the Long Tail, should those in creative control realise it’s existence: freedom. There is a market for all content, and that market will find what it’s looking for, eventually. Essentially: do what ever the hell you want and the people that are into it will watch or listen or whatever.

This is undoubtably idealistic, but somewhat true. The long tail is the preservation of the weird and unique, and the motivation for the weirder and the even more unique, and that’s exactly what media needs.

The Neverending Stories

I’m still stuck reading about fifty pages every week on hypertext, when I feel like we should get a hypertext version of it. Just saying. I mean, there was one reading that was almost like hypertext, or would have been had we been given more of the book. Not that I want more! No, I’m satisfied by my knowledge of hypertext now.

I’m serious, please stop.

What I was going to say was that in the last few readings I’ve come to see these views of hypertext as closer to computer games than novels. Well, the reading that directly references computer games as a form of hypertext (think Titanic) anyway. And not just any computer games: simulation games. Yeah, sure, Red Dead Redemption gives you the option of becoming a goodie or a baddie (guess which is more fun), but it’s games like The Sims or (to a lesser extent) World of Warcraft that really present the player with near infinite choices and outcomes.

I’m really showing my gaming abilities right now.

The interactivity of games these days makes them changeable. Even back in the Space Invader or Pacman ages, there were theoretically a few ways of playing the arcade games, though arguably there was one superior, more efficient way to play. Today, even in game narratives that require the player to complete specific goals in a specific order (which is what happens in most games), there are generally a few ways in which the missions can be completed. For example, first-person shooters like Crysis give the player the option of killing everyone with super strength and super speed or invisibly slipping past the enemies in stealth mode. Infamous, like Red Dead Redemption, allows the player to choose to give their super powered protagonist an evil swing, if the good side of the tracks is a little too dreary.

That said, in all these games there are two streams of missions: The main objectives and the side missions. The main objectives, regardless of how you play the game, will barely alter. If you are an evil bastard in Red Dead, you will still have to try and locate and rescue your kidnapped wife and son. You will still encounter the same bad guys and allies. You will still do the same things. The side missions are different. They aren’t central to the game, they aren’t a requirement. In fact, if you wait too long or stray too far, often they will simply cease to be an option for you as they no longer fit within the chronology of the narrative. In Crysis, the side jobs you could complete on the lovely Filipino tropical island all become voided when the invaded paradise is frozen over by an ancient, sentient life form with a liking for the cold  (seriously, this is an amazing game).

That is where simulation games come in, and I’m going to shove Role Playing Games in with these as well.

The Sims, World of Warcraft, Eve, freaking Neopets (that keeps coming up in conversation lately for some reason) or SimCity. All these games have one thing in common that makes them different to the others here: they have no ending.

By removing that single narrative element, it opens up a whole range of opportunities for the player and the developer, in that there is no one event that everything has to lead to. There is nothing that the game has to ensure. In the Sims, there’s no automatic do-over. Your Sim dies, they die. They don’t just rise up from the ashes like a phoenix – or ‘respawn’, I believe it’s called – if you want them back, you have to work for it, unless you want to not save the game.

The role-playing games are different. In simulation games you are rarely playing one character completely and exclusively (that one Sim that’s just died, yeah, well he happened to live in a house of seven others that you can control), but in WOW and EVE it’s all about your avatar. They have to survive in order for you to play, so they respawn. However, you don’t have to be… well, anything. The quests will grant you new abilities that might help you out in the long run, but for the most part they aren’t necessary. You can go hunt giant monsters in valleys if you feel like it, even if that’s not what your avatar’s occupation normally entails. Levelling up is great and all, but if that’s all we work for, what’s the point?

I’ve never played World of Warcraft. I’m just making up stuff based on what people have told me. I have played EVE though, which is a similar concept but in space. EVE, in my opinion anyway, is prettier. It’s much more atmospheric and full of wonder, but that’s beside the point. EVE is pretty much the same concept: choose an avatar (or more, but they won’t interact with each other), choose a nation (they’re all at war, think Alliance vs. Horde in WOW), choose a career path, choose an academy to study at. After that, you’re whisked away to your new virtual home and you start building up your character towards great power and ability.

The dodgy thing about World of Warcraft, EVE, the Sims and Neopets is that there is only so far you can go. There is a certain equilibrium that the game engine will maintain, even if it might change whenever there is an expansion or an upgrade. What that means is that, in Sims for example, your Sim can’t just decide to take over the town and kill everyone. Every time someone dies, the game will create a new non-playable character to take their spot, often of the same gender, in a similar career, of the same age. There will always be enough people in any town to do anything you can always do, if you know what I mean. The game will not allow options to disappear unless it gives you the choice to take them away. Likewise, EVE and WOW have massive game events, I.E. someone taking over the planet/galaxy/country, explosions, ‘rifts’, all that stuff, but the player doesn’t get to make them happen, and they will never be granted the power to do anything like that.

Some Simulation games, like Sim City, are different. Since they aren’t character based and have somewhat definitive aims (create a city/theme park/cruise liner/etc.), they let you fail. You can create a beautiful metropolis in Sim City, then obliterate it with fire and asteroids and alien invasions and earthquakes and robots. In reality though, that’s the ultimate aim: create a city so great and successful that it is a tragedy when it is completely destroyed by a giant lizard.

You could argue that by having such an abrupt ending it makes it not so much hypertext, but I’d say you were wrong. These lizards and UFOs aren’t pre-destined game events, in fact, the gamer summons them to unleash hell upon their citizens. If it is destructive enough to really bring about the game’s end, then oh, well, it was ultimately the choice of the player. However, if the player has built a giant, booming urban paradise, then presumably they’ve also earned quite a lot of money, and if they so feel they can simply start to rebuild in the ashes of their old jurisdiction. Or, they could just not destroy it in the first place.

This is been going on a bit long, so let’s start to bring it back. If you want a story, a game with a real, twist-y turn-y story, don’t play these games. Unfortunately, in ‘stories’ like The Sims and Sim City, there are little to no random game events. You choose how your characters/citizens live and die, there is nothing that really comes out of left field, simply because it might piss off the players of the game. Twists and turns are mostly present in games with a predefined story, like Red Dead or Infamous or Crysis (hell, the latter COMPLETELY changes half-way through). But if you want real hypertext, where the story is entirely interactive, Sims and Sim City and WOW and EVE and freaking Neopets (yes the ‘freaking’ is part of the title now) are where you should go. You are the story teller, since you’re telling the story what to do. In fact… you know what, keep the idea of virtual story telling in mind. I might have some fun later.

Endlessly Spinning

Why are all these readings on networked media from, like, ten, twenty years ago? Adrian himself has said that the stuff we should be learning in this subject will be obsolete by the time we graduate, so why are we focusing so much on the old stuff? I’m serious! I want to hear about what we think the internet will look like in twenty years, rather than what we thought it would look like in twenty years twenty years ago.

Yes, it’s wonderful that the authors we’ve explored have predicted the internet fairly closely. It’s great they’ve devised some complex theories and methodologies for using the internet as both an information database, storage system and alternate path for narrative. That’s awesome, I’m happy for them, but seriously… ten-year olds know that stuff. They may not know that it was thought of by modern philosophers before the internet was in public use, or that there was even a period of time in which the internet was not around (so… why didn’t the Spanish Armada just check the BOM?), but why should a subject based around using the internet focus so much on how the internet was perceived in the past?

Ok, I’m explaining the concept to myself a bit as I go. Something we don’t really grasp about the internet is the very thing that makes it so interesting to these writers: it’s non-chronological. Perhaps doing a blog is a weird way of using the web as an educational tool, when this vast hypertext extravaganza should allow us to post a million things that relate to a million other things without any kind of chronology or order. We read by order of associations, this leads us to this which leads us to that which leads us to that which leads us back to this and then back to that.

Theodor Holm Nelson was almost desperate in his pleas to make us take up the theories of hypertext and Xanadu, proclaiming that we need to band together to ‘save mankind from an almost certain doom through the application, expansion and dissemination of intelligence. Not artificial, but the human kind.’ Yup, OK. I’m hoping there was a bit of dramaticism and irony there that I didn’t pick up on. Maybe if I’d actually been paying attention as he’d explained in great detail why WIKIPEDIA IS SO AWESOME then I would know.

There is something to be said for the interactive narrative. Sure, it’s a bit clunkier than an interactive reference source (we don’t really read dictionaries or encyclopedias front-to-back), but it’s an interesting concept that deserves to be dissected. Once or twice, anyway. A few of the readings have mentioned Aristotle’s ideas of narrative, and for the most part I agree with him. Stories have beginnings and endings, that’s kind of a what a story is, in my mind. It’s about one aspect, or one idea or concept, at one point, and how it gets to another. No one ever comes out of a story exactly the same, something has to change, but to really track that change a specific starting and finishing point are chosen. I guess that’s me saying I doubt that a hypertext narrative would ever reach the heights of a linear one.

Trial by Hypertext

So many readings on this blasted concept, which is essentially the internet today.

Interwoven strands of information or narrative. Yeah, it’s the internet. Why do we have to look so indepth into it? You know what? I get it. The information part, anyway. I understand, I think. What interests me is the idea of a narrative told through hypertext, an idea a few of the readings have raised. How can normal literature conventions be implemented in a media that has no defined beginning or ending, and where almost any part of the story can be accessed from any other part? It’d be like if Wikipedia was considered more a story of the world rather than a simple linked-in encyclopedia.

Rather than tear apart the ideas of narrative in hypertext, let’s actually get into it. Let’s write a story. I’m gonna break the mould a little though; there is a beginning. Or, rather… an ending in the beginning. My theory is that a real story does have a sense of causality, so it has a beginning, middle and end, but when we look back on what happened we don’t see it like that, we jump. One second we think about how it ended, then we think about how it got there, then we think about pancakes. It’s a premise!

Anyway, so I have begun ‘Breathe’, a weird, hypertext explosion that is supposed to be a narrative. For someone who isn’t the greatest prose composer in the known universe this is going to be… crappy. Bad… awful. Which, on a side note, used to mean the same as awesome.

THE MORE YOU KNOW.

Moving on. A quote from Michael Joyce from the conclusion of the ‘Reconfiguring Narrative’ reading states that ‘closure is, as in any fiction, a suspect quality, although here it is made manifest. When the story no longer progresses , or when it cycles, or when you tire of the paths, the experience of reading it ends.’. This simultaneously explains how hypertext narratives end when the reader decides they do, and how readings end up being pointless by the third page or so.

‘Breathe’ is in progress.

 

Writing As Technology, Version 2

It is interesting to be studying this reading which posits that the actual practice of writing can, in itself, be considered as much of a technology as the medium with which we write, simply because another of my subjects this semester – Communication Histories and Technologies – has raised similar issues only recently. While those readings focused more on the problems labelling anything as ‘technology’, this was more concerned with why writing itself is worthy of being labelled as such, stating in its first sentence that ‘writing is a technology for collective memory, for preserving and passing on human experience’.

I agree somewhat with this. I think it is easy to say writing is technology. Our alphabet, our grammar, our spelling, it is all a system that we have developed over eons of time, a mechanical system composed of tiny parts that meld together, cogs that work only when placed next to the right cogs, and we are not born knowing how to piece it together. What’s more, it is being re-invented with every passing generation. Sure, we say the English language is dying a slow death, but really, when the internet is so easily accessible, the meanings of words that we have now and that we know of from years ago are forever stored on a server somewhere. Shakespearen, a foreign ancestor of the English language to the uninitiated, is translated as careful googling by even the most kewl of kids.

I once read that the English language is shrinking, and I don’t believe it. I’ll admit that the words we use frequently are diminishing, but the English language will always contain the words it contains now, and it will only increase in magnitude as we add words and phrases like ‘lol’, ‘planking’ and ‘bootylicious’. With television, books and movies churning out funky new colloquialisms every second, and with the chances of a word simply disappearing forever diminishing, how can you argue that our language is dying? It makes no sense to me. Let’s see what today’s ‘word of the day’ is on dictionary.com:

 dither
\ DIHTH-er \ ,
verb;
1. to act irresolutely; vacillate.
2.North England . to tremble with excitement or fear.
noun:
1. a trembling; vibration.
2. a state of flustered excitement or fear.

And yesterday:

verisimilitude
\ver-uh-si-MIL-i-tood, -tyood\ , noun:
1. the appearance or semblance of truth; likelihood; probability: The play lacked verisimilitude.
2.something, as an assertion, having merely the appearance of truth.

Because of the internet, these words will – most likely – exist as long as humanity is sentient.

Moving on. As someone who has a very basic (VERY BASIC) understanding of some languages other than English, I can see how we take the fluidity of our tongue for granted. We have something most over languages don’t: freedom. Yes, we are somewhat compounded by strange laws and customs, but as long as what we say is grammatically correct, we can still say it. Sometimes, even that doesn’t matter. Take Buffy the Vampire Slayer, for example, adding ‘y’ to the end of words that don’t end in ‘y’ in order to turn them into adjectives. Sometimes adjectives are used in place of nouns.

Chinese has a much more rigid system in terms of use of language. Of course, grammar is simpler (literally: dog tired=the dog is tired/dogs are tired), but they have a much more repressive dictionary, I mean fire mountain=volcano. They don’t even get a new word for that, it’s just two others they’ve shoved together. Goat? Mountain sheep. Computer? Calculation machine or electric brain. Haemorrhage? Literally ‘losing blood’. Bruise? Defeated injury. It’s very simplistic, but hilariously fun to explore. Some are a tad infuriating, I.E America=Pretty country. Africa=Not a continent, as in that’s what it means.

Sorry, I’m kinda off-topic, but I’m having fun. Of course, to really understand Chinese, you have to realise that it is a picture-based language, like Ancient Egyptian used to be. Back to the definitions above: Volcano = 火山. Goat = 山羊. Computer = 计算机 or 电脑. Haemorrhage = 出血. Bruise = 挫伤. America = 美国. Africa = 非洲. It’s a beautiful thing to look at, but not so easy to grasp for us foreigners.

So it’s nearly eleven at night, and my brain is now swimming in English and Chinese dictionaries, while my limited French vocabulary waits anxiously on the side, waiting to be used. SCREW YOU FRENCH. NO ONE LIKES YOU. Anyway, I’m gonna head off to the bed place and do the sleeping thing. Wish me luck!

 

Design Fiction

I’ve always, on some deeper level, been an aspiring writer. As a younger human I dreamt of penning novels upon novels upon novels, often about spaceships or fantastical lands or destroyed worlds and often ending with turnips (seriously). Eventually I grew to being more of a script-writer, someone who acknowledges their complete inability to create effective prose, but fails to recognise their ineptitude at dialogue. Nonetheless, my love of the high-concept remains, and many of my scripts still feature the space-y, fantasy, post-apocalyptic-y stuff that made my other stories fascinating.

In other words, I like sci-fi and fantasy. Serious sci-fi and fantasy. I was always in love with making the unreal seem plausible or passable, like you could immerse yourself entirely in the universes I’ve crafted and feel like it is as real as the one you’ve left. I’m no scientist, but the gadgets and gizmos I imagined my characters toying with were always things I believed possible, and I despised the dogma that since it is fiction ‘anything is possible’. That’s <EXPLETIVE DELETED>.

Anyway, I sincerely remember designing a full on space station for a story one time. I named her Cassandra, as in the tragic Greek character of mythology whose ability to see the future was ignored. Obviously in my story the beautiful Cassandra was doomed to fail.

I was going to present images of the pages upon pages of cryptic diagrams and equations that went into planning out this great ship, but it isn’t hard to picture if I can describe it well. You see, while she does come to ruin, structurally and technologically she is sound. Cassandra is circular. Not spherical. She’s round and flat, from a distance she is a great ring spinning steadily and silently in space. Humongous iron spokes hold the glinting, solar-panel encrusted circle to a central hub which stays still, an easy access point for ships containing supplies and passengers. There is a secondary ring, which sits just over halfway between the outer one and the hub. While the station may seem small at first, upon approach the mammoth qualities become apparent – Cassandra’s diameter is roughly ten kilmetres, and she is built to hold up to four hundred thousand residents.

All people would reside in the outer ring, which spins at a constant speed of nearly 100 kilometres per minute, or six thousand kilometres per hour. It’s an intense speed, and a tricky one to get to, but it would also provide the outer ring with the equivalent of Earth’s gravity, while the inner ring would be roughly half that. In order to oxygenate the station, this inner ring would house a grand rainforest of a garden, providing more than enough oxygen for the entire population to survive. In fact, some of that area may be able to be utilised as room for agriculture and provide some sustainable sustenance for anyone who lives in Cassandra.

It’s the epitome of grand designs, and it would be a nightmare to really put together, but I love the drama of it.

So what brings on my sudden need to relay the story of Cassandra? Obviously the readings on Design Fiction we had to do this week. Admittedly, I’ve so far only done one; Slate’s interview with Bruce Sterling; but it was a very interesting read. It puts design fiction in a separate category to science-fiction, implying that while they overlap, design-fiction strives to present a realistic idea of technology, rather than crafting elaborate machines and devices for purely narrative purposes. There were two videos which demonstrated this on his page, the first was incredibly boring and uninspiring, while the second was incredibly boring but featured a few glass-related devices that could be very useful. I must admit that I don’t really like the idea of there being interactive screens EVERYWHERE, but hey, why stand in the way of progress? All that was missing was Google Glass, the way of the future.

I don’t know where I stand. I’m a speculative guy, every time I write it is always with causality and reasoning in mind. I want to know why someone would do what my character does, why someone would invent what my character uses, what kind of culture would most likely develop around innovative technologies and what the repercussions of our actions and trials would be. It’s all cause and effect stuff, and it can be as relevant to design-fiction as you really want it to be. As long as there is a call for something, that something will arise.

Bruce Sterling emphasises the importance of diegesis in design fiction, implying a sense of actually experiencing the ideas rather than simply having them explained. It is like any Apple ad, which shows how the technology can be useful in everyday life, i.e. taking photos of our kids on the fly, using Siri to call our friends hands-free, searching for the nearest pub on the bus, paying our bills while waiting in line, all the kind of stuff we couldn’t dream of doing ten years ago, and there we see it, in the ads, being used just how we would use it in real life. Though it is often a lot faster on TV.

Anyway, how would Cassandra be represented? I could imagine it as an advertisement showcasing the comfort of living off-planet, enjoying the luxuries of a completely controlled environment, one that never rains, where your entire world is a few minutes away, where there is no crime due to resident pre-screenings, where the dangers of Earth are not present, so you know you aren’t doing any long term damage.

It’s all very idealistic, which annoys me. That’s probably why I killed everyone on board in my story. Good old Cassandra, always good for a laugh.

I’m Certainly Not Double-loop Learning

So, I read Chris Argyris’ exploration of double-loop learning. Three times. I started it around seven or eight times. I have no clue what it is. None. All I got was that single-loop learning is defensive, in that when something goes wrong the organisation will analyse the situation and modify its practice in order to avoid the problem in the future. Thus double-loop learning is… Presumably the opposite? Perhaps it preempts possible issues and adjusts according. Maybe it’s not problem-based, and is simply based on effective analysis and consistent improvement over the course of the organisation’s existence.

In an attempt to get a grips on the theory, I followed the advice given in the first ‘unlecture’ and found a diagram of ‘double-loop learning’.

Double-looped Learning

This is significantly more useful than Argyris’ intellectual jargon. I mean, I need to double my IQ before I will get a grips on that one, as well as make myself considerably more boring. No offence to anyone who read it and understood it, though I really just called you incredibly, incredibly smart.

Anyway, the diagram shows that double-loop learning is actually using the results of a process to re-evaluate the ‘underlying assumptions’ we made. I definitely get that more, but to be honest I don’t really see how that makes anything easier. Seems to be one of those supposedly revolutionary new ways of thinking that really just complicates a simple system, and a system that is used in most cases because it works well. Yes, it’s defensive, but often the possibility of failure is not properly discernable until the results come though, and then we simply have to fix what went wrong. If that doesn’t work, sure go all the way back and completely change the deeper concepts that you hadn’t questioned in the first place (examples please?), but if it does then I’d say just don’t bother making it harder than it needs to be. The easier it is, the better. I’m not just being lazy. In fact, single-loop learning sounds more like standard perseverance, attempting the goal through multiple failures. Double-loop learning sounds like ‘oh, it didn’t work, let’s try something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT’ and I don’t agree with that. Well, sometimes I do. But not always. Not often. Occasionally, at best.

I decided to find some double-looped learning examples, one of which can be found if you click on the nice hyperlink right there. This one talks about a date in which you tried to go on a picnic with someone, only to find the wind is moving your blanket around. It classes using rocks to hold down the blanket (and steadily increasing sizes of rocks when that fails) as single-looped learning, as it is simply a defensive manoeuvre against the wind-problem, while it implies that completely changing the plans and going somewhere else, or perhaps having the picnic on the ground, or doing it another time, as double-looped learning, since having a picnic then and there are – as Argyris put it – the governing variables in this situation, and is what a good double-looping learn-y thing would reconsider once their potato salad starts assaulting the picnic blanket. Yes, that was a giant sentence.

That is a perfectly reasonable example, and one where reconsidering the picnic is obviously the smart answer. But what if we can’t double-loop or whatever? What if we have a strict deadline, a strict goal, blah blah blah blah, i.e. write a professional blog that each weeks contains posts about readings, unlectures, Networked Media and stuff not about Networked Media? What are the governing variables here?

The blog format is a governing variable. We can’t modify that too much, as there is a certain post-quota we are expected to provide. If we, say, shifted over to Twitter and tweeted our posts of no more than 140 characters long we wouldn’t do so well.

What about the weekly deadlines? Well since we can’t shift tutorials and in every tutorial our weekly progress is assessed, these are pretty concrete too. Unless we lie, since the tutors aren’t really checking our every post every week. Unless they are, in which case that’s really sad. REALLY SAD. Sorry, Elliot, but REALLY SAD.

Another governing variable… well, maybe we could do a shared blog? I mean, I already am kinda doing that by having my weekly guest blogger (I’m thinking Dilruk Jayasinha this week), and I see nothing wrong with that. However, if I were to move over to say… Dani Leever’s blog and post a few things about Networked Media, then have her come over and post a few things on mine, whose would be whose?

Another wacky, double-learning or whatever idea? Let’s drop out!

BYE

From Ventura With Love

20130725-180219.jpg

Everyone just sit tight, I’m getting there. I’ve got this phone-deal sorted, and I’m revelling in the idea that me just messing around with my iPhone on the bus counts as work. I love you, networked media.

On such a note, let’s do something tangible for this course.

Something a bit unkempt, even dishevelled. Smart, a lot – too many – of ideas. A sea indeed of ideas. An ocean of ideas. And there’s networked media. A boat. Certainly not a big one. Doesn’t really have a sail but there is some sort of mast to pin something on, against, to. Or a motor. Not adrift. It bobs, floats, weaves. Seeks and follows eddies of the breeze, currents, a wave. Sometimes it gets blown and washed around, other times darting along with deliberate intent revelling in its boat knowledge of breeze, current, wave. There is no shore. Not at least to be seen. Anywhere. All ocean, and because it is all water one place is as well as close enough, or further away, than any other. Each wave is different. Different enough to have a difference, a difference that matters. This gives this ocean contour, currents, eddies and tides. You dip an oar, seeking something over there, enjoying the whirl and whorl of water around the oar.

Behold an attempt at poetry by lecturer/course coordinator Adrian Miles. That isn’t patronizing. Maybe I’ll post MY attempt at poetry, and you’ll see I have no right to patronize people on their poetic ability. You can meet Dan the Duck! Or not.

Anyway, how does this lovely bit of lyricism correspond to Networked Media, other than referencing the subject by name? Lots of stuff, surely. It establishes our subject as something that has a symbiotic – if temperamental – relationship with the ‘ocean’ of ideas. Networked Media is an entity of itself, but it exists on a basis of other concepts, and is both affected by them and influential on its own terms, though only slightly in the grand scheme of things.

If I were to further deconstruct the metaphor, a boat provides a sense of constant movement. Evolution. Growth. To borrow our former Prime Minister’s phrase of choice, ‘moving forward’. Though really we could be moving in any direction; forward, preferably, but also backward, sidewards, or if we have a really bad semester, down. But we’re always moving, and that’s what counts. Well, until we hit the ocean floor and become another wreck, but then we wouldn’t be a boat anymore so the metaphor still holds.

What is a ‘wave’ in the ocean of ideas? I don’t really know, it could be anything. A specific idea, or maybe it is someone who comes up with these ideas, I.e. us. ‘Different enough to have a difference, a difference that matters.’ Yeah it sounds like us. I don’t want to be a wave, at least it isn’t my great aspiration – I’d much rather be a volcano – but Networked Media seems dependent on the waves it rides. I mean, it doesn’t have a sail. Not yet, anyway. It’s the waves that rock it and drive it and make it a boat.

One issue I have is that this metaphor really describes any subject. Why can’t Control Systems in the engineering course construct some grand boat symbol to represent them as well? Truth be told there’s nothing stopping them. They too, can be a boat exploring the endless idea-sea of wave-students. They just might be engineered better. Get it? Sorry. Regardless, the concept is clean, the reading is beautiful. Is it relevant? I guess, if you make it so.