Month: August 2010

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The Mesh We’re In: The Ecological Thought

If Special Agent Dale Cooper actually did quit the FBI and retire in Twin Peaks, this might be the book he would write. His beliefs in the connectivity of all things, Tibeten philosophy, and respecting others are all represented throughout The Ecological Thought (Harvard University Press, 2010). Actual author Timothy Morton puts so many aspects of our world into perspective that it makes describing this book and its ideas difficult. His writing flows like so much water over the falls, but the falls are the hard part.

Is this an environmental book? Yes and no. It’s environmental, anti-environmental, and post-environmental. The ecological thought knows the only way out is through. It’s not back-to-Nature, it’s get-past-Nature. It’s not about balance, it’s about difference. According to the ecological thought, this is the mesh we’re in:

Do we fill the hole in the world with holism or Heidegger? Or do we go all the way into the hole? Perhaps it’s a benign hole: through it we might glimpse the Universe. Many environmental writer tell us to “connect.” The issue is more about regrouping: reestablishing some functioning fantasy that will do for now, to preserve our sanity. Yet this is radically impossible, because of the total nature of the catastrophe and the fact that there is no script for it (we are “still here,” and so on). It’s like waking up: it becomes impossible to go back to sleep and dream in good faith. The ecological disaster is like being in a cinema when suddenly the movie itself melts. Then the screen melts. Then the cinema itself melts. Or you realize your chair is crawling with maggots. You can’t just change the movie. Fantasizing at all becomes dubious (p. 31-32).

Sustainability is a fantasy. Your Prius is no more or less sustainable than your bicycle or your diet. This world is not sustainable. There’s no “re-enchanting” it. There is only enchantment. The end isn’t coming; it already happened. This is what the end looks like. It’s camouflaged to look like the now.

“The effect of mimicry is camouflage…” wrote Jacques Lacan, “It is not a question of harmonizing with the background, but against a mottled background, of becoming mottled — exactly like the technique of camouflage practised in human warfare” (p. 99). Morton writes, “Camouflage, deception, and pure appearance are the stock in trade of life forms” (p. 18). Non-humans do so many things that are supposed to be what separates us (e.g., language, imagination, reason, play, technology, etc.). Solidarity is the only choice. And why are there life forms at all? “Only because it benefits some replicators to clump together” (p. 85). Please, don’t draw lines in the mesh.

Space isn’t something that happens beyond the ionosphere. We are in space right now. — Timothy Morton

Do you realize, we’re floating in space? — The Flaming Lips, “Do You Realize?”

“There is a bigger picture here” (p. 121). Indeed. Perspectives abound. The Ecological Thought thinks irresistible, impossible, impassible things, because it has to. Because we all have to.

References:

Lacan, J. (1977). The four fundamental concepts of psychoanalysis. London: The Hogarth Press.

Lynch, D. & Frost, M. (Producers). (1990). Twin Peaks [Television series]. New York: ABC.

Morton, T. (2010). The ecological thought. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

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Browser Don’t Surf: The Web’s Not Dead… Yet.

Remember when people used to “surf the web”? Now it is said that typical daily browsing behavior consists of five websites. William Gibson’s age-old summary of web experience, “I went a lot of places, and I never went back” has become, “I go a few places, and I stay there all the time.” We don’t surf as much as we sit back and watch the waves. I started this post several months ago when I noticed that the lively conversations that used to happen on my website had all but ceased (and eventually ceased altogether). Though the number of visitors continued to increase, the comments had moved elsewhere. A link to a post here on Facebook garners comments galore on Facebook, but none on the actual post. I doubt that I’m alone in experiencing this phenomenon.

I Tweeted (that still sounds silly, doesn’t it?) sometime last year  “Facebook 2009 = AOL 1999.” I was being snarky at the time, but there are good reasons that the analogy holds. As Dave Allen of North pointed out recently, search engine optimization (SEO) and search engine management (SEM) are shams for users. For those that don’t know, SEO and SEM are strategies for gaming Google’s search algorithms, thereby attaining higher page-rank in search results. That’s great if the optimized site actually has what you’re looking for, but unfortunately this is becoming less and less the case (Dave was looking for some bamboo poles from a local source for his backyard in Portland. I challenge you to find one using Google).

Enter closed communities like AOL and Facebook: These social networks help filter the glut by bringing the human element back into the process. So-called “social search” or “social filtering” helps when Google fails. So, even as Facebook has become the new “training wheels” of the Web (as AOL was before it), it also serves as a new organizing principle for all of the stuff out there.

Once I read the Wired cover story on the death of the web, I knew this idea had to be revisited. The claim that the web is dead is more than a ploy to sell magazines and less than a statement of truth. Yes, we’ve used the terms “web” and “internet” interchangeably (even jokingly combining them in the portmanteau “interwebs”) when they’re not the same thing, but don’t get it twisted: The web is not dead. It’s changing, growing, reorganizing, yes. But it’s far from dead.

Organizing principles are just filters; they include, they exclude, they make sense of would-be chaos. Good examples include books, solar systems, and city grids. As an organizing principle, the web is lacking at best, but it’s not lacking enough to wither and die just yet. Sure, the “app-led” (i.e., Appled) future, with its smart phones, iPhones, iPads, and other gadgets is forming closed silos using the internet’s backbone, but you aren’t likely to be sitting at your desk using anything other than the web for a while to come yet.

That brings us back to the shift from outlying sites (like this one) to filtering sites (like Facebook). As long as web search is run by algorithms that can be gamed (thereby rendering them all but useless), then the closed silos will stack — on and off the web proper. Where will that leave sites like mine? I don’t know, but no one is interested in The Roy Christopher App just yet.

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SXSW 2011: My Panel/Talks

Voting has begun for South by Southwest 2011. I have proposed two talks and one panel. I am hereby requesting your support. Click on the links below and vote for these ones:

INTERACTIVE: Disconnecting the Dots: How Our Devices are Divisive:
We drive cars to the gym to run miles on a treadmill. Inclement weather notwithstanding, why don’t we just run down the street? The activities are disconnected. We sit in close physical proximity with each other and text others far away. The activities are disconnected. Technological mediation creates a disconnection between physical goals and technology’s “help” in easing our workload. There are at least two types of disconnection enveloping our days: one between ourselves and our environment (e.g., pumping water vs. pumping iron) and one between ourselves and each other (e.g., individual distraction vs. global connection) with technology wedged in between in both cases. If our culture is essentially technology-driven, then what kind of culture emerges from such disconnections between our physical goals and our technologically enabled activities?

FILM: Building a Mystery: Taxonomies for Creativity:
There is a limit — a rule of the grammar, if you will — of the number of elements that the average story can carry. There’s a point at which too many elements cause one story to fall apart, a line across which something else (e.g., a sequel) is needed. This limit is qualitative to be sure, but it’s not hard to tell when it’s been exceeded. While building a theory and weaving a narrative are very different enterprises, one can see parallels in the amount of elements each will carry. It’s less like the chronological restrictions we place on certain activities (e.g., you must be 18 to vote, 21 to drink, etc.) and more like having enough cream and sugar in your coffee. It’s a difference like the one between hair and fur. So, how many elements make a good story?

MUSIC: Finding Success and Thriving on Chaos:
If you need help finding your way into the current music milieu or your way from a rut to a groove, this is the talk for you. Helmed by musicians with lengthy and successful yet unconventional careers and unconventional takes on the upended music industry (e.g., Paul D. Miller a.k.a. DJ Spooky, Dave Allen of Gang of Four/Shriekback, Aesop Rock, Rebecca Gates of The Spinanes, et al.), this panel will be stoked and stocked with helpful information, insight, and inspiration for the aspiring as well as the veteran artist. From punk rock to Hip-hop, all genres are welcome. The unserious need not apply.

Okay, so there are a million other awesome-looking panels and talks, but I must implore you all to vote for these. Voting closes on August 27th, so vote early and everyday until then. Please and thank you.

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Preston the Cat: R.I.P.

Suspected to have been dead for years, Preston the Cat finally received the call yesterday. He stayed at my parents’ house for seventeen years, through the tenure of two horses, and outlived Priscilla the Cat, Winnie the Dog, and Hershey the Goat. Like his archenemy, His Own Tail, he never liked me much, but we were almost friendly during his last days. At the time of his death, I only have one Preston-inflicted wound requiring a band-aid.

He is survived by Cindy (his initial owner), Moms (couldn’t care less about a cat), Jack (his primary caretaker who affectionately referred to him as “Worthless Furball”), myself, Push Broom, and his best friend Basket of ‘Tatas. His scowl, tail-hating neurosis, and intermittent but incessant knocking on the door will be missed.