Please, Silent Your Cell Phones

As I was driving from College Park to Baltimore tonight, I called a good friend and per usual, we had this incredible conversation about a slieu of ideas and topics. One, in particular, struck me as intriguing and curious because it was about the overuse of cell phones-- while, of course, I was on my cell phone.

Tom-- the friend-- and I were talking about how self-absorbed students (and professors) are on campus, perpetually and constantly checking voicemails, text messages, and emails. No matter the situation-- in the classroom, walking across the mall, going to the bathroom-- men and women have their cellphones or Blackberrys attached at the hip, in the even that something (something probably very insignificant) might happen. As if one could not go ten, twenty, or sixty minutes without knowing what some friend is up to.

Is it necessary to be so connected? Is it impossible in today's society to go an hour of one's time without the attention of others? Do people find it impossible to think inside their own heads for a period of time without the consulation or recognition of others?

Recent and trendy applications like Twitter and Facebook status updates would have you think otherwise. In fact, such applications can offer us a second-by-second update of our friends, and interestingly enough, those who aren't really our friends at all.

Of course, few text messages, Twitter tweets, or Facebook updates are thought-provoking or critically stimulating or, God forbid, significant: James _____ i am so tired of writing lit reviews in research....all nighter once again; Nicole _____ is super sleepy; Montse _____ is covered in paint. To name a few.

Really, who cares? Is there a point?

To me, these electronic messages and updates are white noise-- tolerable, largely unnoticed, but toxic to our society if we want to be perceived and understood by others as intelligent, considerate, and thoughtful.

If only to give the illusion that we are capable human beings that can do without the attention, albeit shortlived, of others, silence your phones. Turn off you Blackberrys. Stop checking Facebook three times an hour. Silence this deafening white noise.

The End of Text as We Know It?

Image via CrunchBase

With the movement of text from paper to online, it is only fitting that text will undergo some other transformation in the future.

Already, online text is being translated into video, in order to appeal to a visually-stimulated audience. The phenomenon that is Youtube has started an incredible trend in the news media: citizen-reporting. Just look at CNN's IReport: online news has taken a turn to include (perhaps primarily) a series of viewer-generated news videos.

Video blogging (aka vlogging or vidblogging) is just another example of how text has morphed. Whereas the traditional blog medium was text, this new outlet involves the blogger-turned-vlogger to make entries via webcam.

Even the New Yorker Magazine has adapted its website to include this latest trend. A feature of the website is "The Political Scene," in which a political topic is discussed, not written about. Here, text-turned-audio allows readers of the magazine to listen to new ideas, as opposed to reading them.

So is this the end of text as we know it? Unlikely.

Although it is obviously trendy to reject text for more visual or auditory agencies, written text is still the formal and most accepted way to transfer information, whether an English paper or a company memo. Still, the adaptation of text to other medias seems likely, and should provide for an all-inclusive way to receive information.

The Masterminds Behind Blogging

Penny Arcade On Blogging
By Mike Krahulik and Jerry Holkins
From Forbes Magazine

Finding the Best of the Best

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The common theme in all of my messages is my search for the best, which incidentally, seems to be the latest goal of the media industry: searching for the best. Or rather, the best (method of) searching.

Looking back on the transformation of search engines-- from Yahoo to Ask Jeeves to Google-- I think that the search agencies of the future will only be better. Our access to information and news, it seems, will be more intuitive and second-nature. Although I know nothing about the technology behind it, I anticipate a search agency that is more in tune with our thoughts than even we know.

Already, different media industries are capitalizing on the search engine. Companies like Google have branded their ability to out-search other engines by the virtue that they allow searchers to find information with the most ease, thanks to an involved matrix of keywords and popular hits.

Other media industries have followed suit. For instance, Amazon has involved the search engine in their website in order to encourage more purchases. After buying a German dictionary for class, Amazon kindly told me that people who bought my dictionary also bough X, Y, and Z. Of course, I then considered buying those books as well.

I think the latest trend (and the most profitable one) in searchability is the anticipation of what the consumer wants. What else would make the consumer happy? What else suits the needs of the consumer? Like Amazon, companies like TiVo and iTunes can offer suggestions about new television shows or albums that might suit the consumer, based on past recordings or purchases. Even Garmin, the GPS system, can make suggestions to the consumer based on location and pricerange and cuisine.

It almost seems scary that gadgets and electronics know more about us than we do. This makes me think that this phenomenon is less about the consumer's power, but rather the market's understanding of the consumer. A significant difference, and one that should not be disregarded. The market might be more focused on the consumer's needs, but that does not mean that it is a consumer's market.

As for the future of searching? I think it's going to be even more in-depth and more in-touch with the consumer than it is now. No, I don't think mind-reading is in all likelihood, but I'm sure that the next wave of search agencies will complement the ideas of John Battelle's Database of Intentions:

"The Database of Intentions is simply this: The aggregate results of every search ever entered, every result list ever tendered, and every path taken as a result. It lives in many places, but three or four places in particular hold a massive amount of this data (ie MSN, Google, and Yahoo). This information represents, in aggregate form, a place holder for the intentions of humankind - a massive database of desires, needs, wants, and likes that can be discovered, supoenaed, archived, tracked, and exploited to all sorts of ends. Such a beast has never before existed in the history of culture, but is almost guaranteed to grow exponentially from this day forward. This artifact can tell us extraordinary things about who we are and what we want as a culture. And it has the potential to be abused in equally extraordinary fashion."

A Change of Heart?

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In my previous posting on Amazon's Kindle, I put the e-library to the wayside and decided that it was a cheap (not in regard to price) and unauthentic way to read a book.

As of lately, I have had a change of heart.

Don't get me wrong: I still consider the Kindle a bastardization of literary works. But, I have come to the conclusion that, in addition to its promotion of reading, it also provides readers with a convenience that 800 page books cannot offer.

I do not think that the Kindle should replace newspapers or books for the ten minute Metro or busride to work. Please, enjoy and appreciate the real thing while you still can.

But after having talked to a friend the other day, I recognize that the Kindle is an excellent way to bring a bookshelf's worth of books with you on your extended travels. Like this friend, I plan to travel to Europe after graduation to teach English. Of course, how does a girl pack for a twelve-month visit? Clothes are an obvious necessity, but for an English major like myself, I have to decide whether or not to bring that extra pair of heels or my collection of Ayn Rand novels. What's a girl to do?!

She is to buy a Kindle. Considering that it would be impossible to ship all of my books across the Atlantic (at a reasonable price, that is), the Kindle is the best alternative to the real thing. Although pricey (and it is pricey), the amount of money spent on the digital library is far less than what it would cost to bring tens of dozens of books with me.

I realize that I'm settling for convenience here instead of quality. And believe me, I still think that the electronic versions of literary texts are disappointing. But, I would rather have books on a screen than no books at all.

Of course, I'm not ready to spend the $400 some dollars on the Kindle myself. Perhaps this would make a good graduation gift for me...

The Bleak State of the News Media

After having read the Pew Research Center's Annual Report on American Journalism, I have to agree with the article's assessment that the print and cable news industries are failing to function as the leading sources of news in America. No doubt, there is little financing to be found in print or cable advertising, and this has lead to an unimpressive, and frankly disappointing, news service.

Because the cash flow within the news industry is decreasing, print and cable news have compromised their quality and authenticity as informative and influential agencies. No wonder readers have opted to find news online, when print and broadcast journalism is so unsophisticated and trashy.

When the journalism industry recognized the deficit in advertising and funding, it should have embraced the concept of returning to basics, instead of resorting to cheap tricks to pull in a greater audience.

I find it embarrassing that a major news source such as NBC must cheapen itself to include superficial content within its programming in order to reach its audience. Certainly, the status of Mel Gibson's marriage is not comparable to a deep report into American politics and economics.

The news media should be cutting edge-- breaking boundaries and social rules in order to provide the most compelling and important information. Instead, print and cable media is a joke. Subsidizing its content with laughable material is a shame. There is so much potential within the media to question and deliberate current issues-- why doesn't the media industry capitalize on fresh and provocative ideas instead of on stale celebrity news?

Are Political Blogs the New Salons of the Twenty First Century?

During the Enlightenment and Renaissance-- the age of conversation-- men and women often congregated in salons in order to discuss politics, civility, and philosophy. Such endeavors promoted discussion and analysis, which, in some form, served as self-reflection and a polite way of checking the government.

The platform for discussing such hot topics as politics, sex, and religion has certainly changed over the past three hundred years-- salons, literary journals, protests, sit-ins, talk shows. Most recently, though, the salon has been transformed into something virtual by way of the blog.

Political blogs are becoming ever-present in American society. Like the salons of the French Renaissance, they discuss the successes, disappointments, and problems of the government and of the country.

Well, discuss might be too strong a verb. True, men and women can respond to blog posts via comments, but I would argue that blogs and comments do not make a conversation. There seems to be little back and forth, very insubstantial argument. And it is argument that brings about change and self-reflection.

Perhaps upcoming technology will advance the features of blogging to include more discussion-like opportunities. Somehow I imagine that concepts like Twitter will be integrated into blogposts so that blogs seem more like a constant conversation.

That said, though, I think the real value of blogs lies in their ideas. But men and women shouldn't have to hide behind a screen to advocate their ideas. While the Internet makes it easier to proclaim certain thoughts, if bloggers are that keen on expressing their opinions, they should step out from the computer and make their voices heard otherwise.

An advocate for conversation-- real conversation-- I fully support a return to the Age of Conversation.

Is the Church in Need of Another Reformation?

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While reciting traditional prayers at a Good Friday service at my church last week, it struck me that things have not really changed in the Catholic Church. Although Vatican II brought about a lot of changes to the Church's practices, there is so much that has remained the same throughout its history. I'm sure that's how many expect and desire it to stay. You can't fight city hall, can you?

While the Church is reluctant to make bold changes, I am surprised, though, that the institution has not used recent media technologies to extend its thousand year old (and then some) mission of spreading the word of God. The possibility to reach a broader audience must excite some within the Church. Or so you would think.

Still, from what I've seen and from what I've experienced, the Church has not caught on. Sure, there are Masses aired on television, religious conversations on Sirius Radio, and podcasts available online-- but the Church has fallen wayside to other, more marketed concepts.

Then again, maybe that's the point. Religion has been marketed for years by missionaries and saints and martyrs, but that seems a little dated, right? Is it better for the Church to embrace its more conservative side and reject modern technology? Would it really make a big impact if the Church suddenly embraced commercialization? Would it change the meaning and intent of the Church?

Digital Immortality

Image by Leo Reynolds via Flickr

Seeking immortality is nothing new.

According to Greek myth, Tithonus was granted immortality by Zeus at the request of his wife, Eos-- but because she forgot to ask for eternal youth, Tithonus grew to be a very old, shriveled man (and maybe a cicada?).

Even in the Disney classic, Aladdin, one of the provisions that Genie puts forth is that he cannot bring people back from the dead-- "it's not a pretty."

More recently, in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named/Professor Quirrell seek immortality through unicorn blood and Nicholas Flamel's stone-- and we all know how unsuccessful they were at that.

The success rates of attaining immortality, as evident by these fine gents, is slim. Albeit a fine dream, it's pretty complicated to reverse or stop the inevitable circle of life. (Cue Lion King music.) Going back to Greek myth, the Three Fates will, at some point, cut you out of existence.

Men and women cannot fight time. However, art does not exist under the same rule.

Art is certainly a familiar tool that artists emply to escape the contrainsts of human life on Earth-- time being the most significant constraint of all. For instance, in his apostrophe Ode on a Grecian Urn, John Keats uses language to perpetuate a world of art in which human figures are “for ever warm and still to be enjoy’d, For ever panting, and for ever young."

In the poem, life is immortalized on the urn through pictures. The urn can be preserved, unlike humans, so the story of the people on the urn is similiarly preserved. In turn, the story of the people on the urn is doubly preserved in Keats' text.

Ahh, the power of words!

While traditionally this process of immortalization has been done in plays, poems, novels, treatises, and the like, online/digital writing is accomplishing the same task by cementing thoughts and stories and ideas through words. In fact, it could be said that ideas or people are more immortal online because so many more people access online material than printed material.

Although I'm not sure Keats would agree that online blogging or writing is an art form, I think he would be so proud of this perpetuation of life.

Commodification of Literature

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Today in my Latin American Literature class, we discussed the history of the American book industry. In retrospect, we've come a long way since the very decentralized printing industry of pre-Civil War America. Without transportation or commercial presses, the printing, marketing, sale, and distribution of books was pretty non-existant.

However, after the Civil War (after the construction of the railroad and the revitalization of many American cities), the book industry was quickly centralized. The desire to unite the country through literature was apparent as books of all sorts, whether about manners, politics, or romance, found their way into the homes of American men and women.

This commodification of books was beneficial to society because it provided a more regular and faster exchange of ideas and thoughts. The better availability and accessibility of books to people of all classes and races democratized this exchange-- something previously monopolized by American genteel.

Since then, the book industry has become even more centralized. The genteel may no longer have a monopoly on ideas, but the book industry sure does. The major bookstores have completely standardized the experience of buying and reading books. Think about the last time you stepped into a Borders or Barnes and Noble. The stores are arranged in the same manner, right down to the sort-of nice furniture, the trendy coffee drinks, and the background music.

What does this mean for such companies? Profit. They have book selling down to a science; the lack of guesswork means fewer economic losses. It also means customer loyalty: shoppers enjoy the familiarity of these mega-book stores.

Theses stores certainly cater to the needs of the customer, an idea explored in Everything is Miscellaneous's discussion of Staples. But isn't this kind of shopping boring and predictable?

Sure, it's advantageous for the shopper to be able to get in and out of a busy store... but isn't there a certain appeal to "window shopping" and discovering new and great things?

Maybe this is why I like to shop at small bookstores, ones that carry special editions and rare finds. I'm not crazy though, I'm guilty of shopping at these superstores myself. After all, they are more affordable... I'm a college student, let's be real here.

Good Manners Be Damned?

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As I get ready for Spring Break (THANK GOD), I've had to get in touch with a relative in Florida whom I'm visiting for a few days. While calling her on the phone would certainly be more personal and much more my style, I've resorteded to using the Internet as my primary means of communication. It's convenient, yes, but kind of tacky. I can send her my itinerary and plans, but when I thank her for letting me crash at her house, it doesn't really seem really heartfelt. And trust me, after the past few lousy weeks, the opportunity to be anywhere outside of College Park has made me especially thankful.

Against everything I stand for, or want to stand for, I've compromised quality for convenience-- something most people do in these modern days. Many modern technologies embrace this compromise-- and rightfully so in the busy world we live in. Such technologies as the Internet allow for immediate sharing of information, which is key, especially my last-minute attempt to make plans for vacation.

But as we embrace this convenience, we turn our backs on each other. Instead of easily interacting with each other, which the Internet is supposed to encourage, we hide behind the words we write on a computer screen. I don't suggest using the mail as a more personal means of communication-- God knows the USPS does not understand the concept of haste-- but why not embrace an older technology, the telephone.

The power of the human voice is remarkable. Inflections, pauses, and connotations reveal so much more than the emoticons on your computer. In my case, a phone call would really reveal how much I appreciate the opportunity to get out of College Park and on to the beaches of Florida.

It's a little late for me to pick up the phone now, but I think next time I will reach for my cell before heading to the computer. Besides, I can make up for my lacking manners with a personal note and some fresh flowers.

The Future of Print Media

Image by ClintJCL via Flickr

Seeing as it's past midnight, it's as good a time as any to curl up with a good book (see previous post) and head to bed. Of course, first I have to finish the requisite and perfunctory tasks: brushing teeth, washing face, and in this modern day, checking my email one last time. As I close my Gmail window, I decide to check out one more site: The New Yorker's website (as displayed so enthusiastically on the website roll to the right).

I glance at the major sections, but stop when I see an interesting blog on the state of the newspaper business. A brief article on the present and future of print media called "News You Can Lose," the New Yorker reports that the newspaper industry faces problems that are the result from a perfect storm: the combination of decreased readership and advertisements.

The demise of newspapers is nothing new, but considering the recent claim of bankruptcy by Tribune Company and the anticipated layoffs of hundreds of newspaper employees nationwide, I have to wonder what the role of the newspaper will be in the coming years.

Many men and women have already made the transition from print to online news sources, but there are still those who have held out-- whether for their favorite column or the daily crossword. So what should these traditionalists expect? My guess: an increase in cost and a decrease in selection. The most successful newspapers will probably still be relevant news sources in the future-- I'm thinking the New York Times, the Washington Post, etc.

But what will be the effects of such an oligopoly? Worse quality? More bias? A select range of opinions and ideas?

Maybe the future of the industry isn't as grim as I anticipate, but I'm not holding out. Back to my book-- something that I think will last a lot longer than the dailies.

We've Come A Long Way Since Gutenberg

Very much my parent's child, I am a reader. I read every- and anything I can get my hands on-- Novels, non-fiction, newspapers, magazines, anything with words. Naturally, I think reading is just great. I can't think of a better way to discover new information, new ideas, new feelings, or even old information, old ideas, and old feelings.

To me, it's a shame that more people choose to watch the news rather than read it in the newspaper, or that people discover love by watching reruns of Titanic on TNT every month. It doesn't seem as real to me. The power of the brain to compute and react and understand ideas and feelings is astounding, and I think a lot of modern technology (TV, movies, videogames) has stunted this awesome capability.

Reading is almost considered oldfashioned these days. Passe. Irrelevant. It's not fashionable to read the Greats, so people settle and buy copies of Gossip Girl, The Devil Wears Prada, and The Dirty Girls Social Club (don't get me started on that, I have to read it for a Latin American Literature class. Seriously.)

Reading comprehension in elementary and secondary schools is beyond disappointing. My mom, a former English teacher in a Baltimore middle school, can tell tales of failing seventh graders who read at a second grade reading level. Second grade! It's embarrassing, really.

Naturally, I was pleased to hear that Amazon has released a new technology that actually promotes reading in our modern world. Go figure. Called the Kindle (well now, the Kindle 2.0), this device is like a literary iPod, offering men and women the ability to read books, newspapers, magazines, and blogs on "an electronic paper display." Basically a small computer screen, the Kindle 2.0 is a portable library for people who seek a balance of the literary life and convenience.

Amazon offers over 240,000 pieces of literature, ranging from the classics to modern crime novels. The books are all downloadable and can be stored in the device. Some books can even be read aloud, albeit by an automated voice. But still, pretty cool.

Despite the fact that this new literary wave excites me, and it does, I'm not sold. I'm currently reading I am Charlotte Simmons by Tom Wolfe. It's magnificent, read it. It's also a couple hundred pages long, like any Wolfe novel. I can assure you, this book was not meant for electronic paper-- kind of like how Star Wars is that much better on the big screen. Not only would it be annoying to read on such a device, considering the length, but the touch of metal and plastic can't beat the touch of paper and ink.

Maybe I'm a little too oldschool?

I'm interested to see, though, how Kindle catches on. Or if it does at all.

Will universities use the technology for textbooks?

Will a company like Apple adapt the technology for iPods?

Will Kindle ignite a passion for reading in Americans? I'm skeptical.

Regardless of whether or not Kindle is a hit, I think it's a relief to see technology embracing such a Renaissance art. Who knows, reading could be the new avant garde accessory for next fall...

Want to hear another reader's opinion on Kindle? Check out Stephen King's reaction.

Are Two Heads Better Than One?

There is a common belief that two heads are better than one-- that multiple perspectives and opinions culminate in something excellent, or at least something better than before. This idea of sharing and forging ideas is nothing new, but as of recently, can be seen in a new application-- mass collaboration on a macro scale and in a virtual world. Men, women, doctors, teachers, students-- anyone with access to a computer-- can share, correlate, and improve existing information and data through online wiki-software. Regardless of the mediocre information that may surface on such forums and outlets, this process, this exchange of information and knowledge, is ultimately a positive and creative force, and one that should perpetuate improvements in fields of science, medicine, and technology.

But what about the arts?

Initially, I was skeptical that such shared artistic collaboration could produce something great. In a world where shared thoughts and ideas can lead to accusations of copyright infringement, plagiarism, and exploitation, it seemed to me that mass collaboration was not meant for writers, musicians, or artists because it might blur the line between "just collaborating" and co-authoring. Shouldn't that matter? To whom does the credit and accolades go?

But lest you forget, art is steeped in the tradition of sharing, borrowing, collaborating, and bending rules. My mind instantly returns to English lectures on Eliot's "The Wasteland." Not only did this poem allude to (or borrow and steam from) the Bible, countless pieces of literature, parables, songs, and history, but without Eliot's international collaboration with his friend and colleague Ezra Pound, this remarkable perspective on modernity would not be the same. No doubt "The Wasteland" would still be incredible (and still as difficult to interpret), but would it be as great?

Of course, this collaboration between literary masters is not the mass collaboration on the macro scale of modern, well post-modern, wikis and online forums-- but it was certainly massive, marking, and perhaps defining, the modernist movement.

And to whom does the credit go? Eliot takes the prize, but Ezra got a pretty awesome inscription at the beginning of the poem: "For Ezra Pound il miglior fabbro." Look it up.

Pound is famously remembered for his thoughts on modernism in the beginning of the 20th century: "Make it new." Make it new, make it better. Isn't that what (mass) collaboration is all about? It should be.

The World At My Fingertips

There is something to be said for having the world at my fingertips. In a word, immediacy.

Courtesy of an incredible network of wires and fiber-optic cables more commonly known as the Internet, I can look up the capital of Mozambique (Maputo, incidentally), the lyrics to that Steely Dan song stuck in my head, and a recipe for Bavarian-style Kaesespaetzle. Simultaneously, I can also email my brother in Manhattan, Google chat with my boyfriend across Adelphi Road while he finishes (or attempts to finish) his Capstone homework, and Skype my friend studying abroad in Rome.

Timezones, interstates, oceans-- be damned!

It's absurd-- with just one mouseclick on the Mozilla button on my computer's taskbar, I can interact, participate, and experience life on all continents, in all languages, and from so many different vantage points without my passport. Indeed, the world at my fingertips is flat; more flat than Columbus and company ever imagined.

This infinite ability to access the world is not only absurd, but it's so incredible and advantageous... Maybe too incredible? Too advantageous? Is there such a thing? (There usually is, right?) I have to ask myself-- where's the catch?

I have to admit, I'm pretty old-school. I prefer listening to music played from a turntable than from earbuds-- that same Steely Dan song sounds ten times better, at least, on vinyl than it does coming out of my computer. I read books, real books, not scanned editions found on Amazon's new Kindle, whatever that is-- Victor Hugo did not write Les Miserables to be read on a screen! The Baltimore Sun and the Baltimore Examiner both disappoint, a lot, but there's something to be said for the smell of fresh ink and the touch of gritty paper.

I like things real, as they were intended. (Of course, this begs the question, why am I writing a blog instead of a column. I direct you to my professor... it's the best excuse I have. Besides, my printer is out of ink and I don't have access to a Gutenberg printing press.)

Like I said, though, I like things real. I can figure out the lyrics to that Steely Dan song by listening to it-- and isn't that more enjoyable anyway? Looking up that German recipe online is easy, but reading about the origins of the recipe in my neighbor's twenty-year-old cookbook is much more fascinating. And while emailing, Google chatting, and Skyping my friends and family online might be quick, cheap, and practical, a real conversation, whether face-to-face or over the phone, is so much more personal and significant.

Having the world at my fingertips, well, technology, might offer me an immediacy that real things can't, but at a great cost-- intimacy.

So what's an oldschool girl like me to do? Compromise, I guess. I will Skype my friend in Rome (who wouldn't, it's free), but I will pay the 42 cents postage to write my grandmother who prefers my cursive to the computer's Helvetica.

Oh the joys of democracy and modernity-- I've got choices and I intend to use them. (I am woman, here me roar? No, not quite.)



(Seriously, though, I implore that you read real books; masterpieces weren't meant for 3x3 inch screens. Go check out Amazon's predecessor, the local library.)