Monthly Archives: August 2013

Trial by Hypertext

Posted on by
Reply

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

Posted on by

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!

 

Picking My Teachers

Posted on by
Reply

Ok, cool. Symposiums – assuming I get the go ahead from Elliot – are out for me. I mean, if it would be detrimental to my learning experience, I.E I can’t get full participation marks, then I’ll keep going. If I can still do all the other crap on the checklist and come away with a full score, screw ’em. They aren’t enjoyable or useful. I’m not going to ‘suck it up’. I am being professional about this, I don’t find them to be professional at all. They are ultimately useless and irrelevant.

This’ll be short and sweet. I’d write a full-on Dear John deal, but unfortunately I care so little and I know so little that I don’t see the point.

If all goes to plan – and it so rarely, rarely does – this is goodbye.

So…

 

Bye.

SYMPOSIUM

Posted on by
1

So, I’m bored.

This is because the symposium format is flawed. Our four lecturers are too formal, too pleasant, too awkward. They need to hate each other. Disagree on something, anything.

For now, I don’t want to come anymore. I’m still bitter about all this stuff, I still have issues with the format and the delivery, and I don’t want to come anymore. I don’t want to come anymore.

I get bored, and I learn nothing. They teach nothing. We discuss airy-fairy crap about the word ‘network’ and Adrian tells us the way it’s going to be, before yelling at us for assuming things about the future. It’s my mid-subject crisis, and it’s only week four. I can’t sit here and get more and more irritated for an hour each week for the next few months, unless you give me some fantastic argument as to why I should.

I thought I’d give a ‘symposium’ a try, but it’s one guy. The lecture was that one guy, and so was this. Unfortunately, I have issues – petty ones, mind you, but issues nonetheless – with that one guy, and I find him detrimental to my educational experience.

So, if you want me there – and it’s cool if you don’t – convince me to come. Please, try.

I Cross The Desert

Posted on by
Reply

I’m oft-described as an over-dramatic little sod. Seriously, like my entire life I’ve condescended into procedural episodes akin to a horrible television show that’s been on for far too many seasons. And yet, nothing’s really happened.

This season – 2013 – so far has been like season six of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s trying to be funny, but it’s weighed down by all the depressing crap and by the fact that the main character is devoid of any passion or drive. Really, it’s gone. I just want to crawl into a hole and die sometimes, but for the most part I’d find that boring, and I don’t like boring.

The bane of my existence right now is EVERYTHING, but to keep it relevant to this subject it’s NETWORKED MEDIA. THIS BLOG. My God, this blog, I loved the idea a few weeks ago, but now this subject has thrown a few handfuls of sand in my face and still wants me to play ball with it. I’m so tired, though. I just don’t care.

Back to the TV metaphor, if Networked Media was a story arc, I’d say I was now in the middle of it, drudging through foreign, barren lands trying to find something, anything, that will bring back my ability to give a damn. Maybe a giant space leech will attack me, and I’ll over power it with my telekinesis or something, and then I’ll be able to rise above the space leech’s carcass with a surge of power and strength, that extra burst of self confidence and self assurance that will get me to the end of the semester. I need an epiphany, something that reminds why this blog matters. Why this subject matters. Why this degree matters.

It doesn’t make me happy. Should it?

There’s always a dilemma, something that gets an arc going. One of my favourite books is Atonement, because it deconstructs the way that a story unfolds by featuring a young girl – Briony – who turns her everyday life into an over-dramatic story, describing the world in bold, emotional words and making the smallest of interactions grand, romantic gestures. I’m like that. Ok, I’m not a little English girl, but I dramatise. The easiest way to understand the world is to see it like a television character. Some people say ‘what would Jesus do?’, I say ‘What would Buffy do?’, or maybe Ben Linus, Michael Bluth, Veronica Mars or Malcolm Reynolds. You know, people that aren’t real. They are who really matter.

Row, row, row your boat

Gently down the stream

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily

Life is but a dream

I don’t feel any better. I’m just… tired. Anxious. Bored. Lethargic. A bit patronized. Conceited. Stupid. Patronizing, I’m told. Angry. Always, angry.

But if the world wasn’t always so dreary I wouldn’t have to be angry.

CHEER UP, WORLD, GODDAMN IT.

Thank You For Preserving

Posted on by
Reply

Unlecture numero tres. How do I feel? Anxious, again. Thanks, Adrian, I really wanted to have my question addressed personally in the lecture, separately from everyone else. I’m glad you didn’t point me out because I was pretty freaked.

That said, did you answer it? I kinda zoned out a little, but I have this feeling that y0u just insulted my inference rather than actually tackling the problem. The content is irrelevant, you didn’t argue with that. You just implied that I assumed university was a ‘merchantile’ transaction, which I kind of do, considering I’m paying for it. And yes, I do plan to give back to you and the university for their time and effort that they spend on me. It’s called money, you see.

I am a stubborn git, so no matter how well you argued your case I am gonna stand by my complaint.

‘University is a privilege.’ I concur. Doesn’t mean I should attend pointless lectures. Get to the ‘symposium’, people, because at the moment these are just normal lectures where we don’t learn anything. Where there is nothing to teach. Everything is a privilege which can be taken away from us at any moment. Our lives are privileges, so why should I waste mine in a lecture theatre, in this subject or any other? As you can probably tell I’m fairly irritated right now. It’s better than how I was yesterday.

We have a ‘reciprocal obligation’ to the university, meaning we get what we give. As I said, I pay. Or, I will pay, once I get a successful-enough job (if that ever occurs). How else should I give back to the university?

I’m gonna just stop right now.