Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Why the Internet is Not Ruining Everything

Last Thursday, the Times online published an article called "The Internet is killing storytelling." The author, Ben Macintyre argues,
The internet has evolved a new species of magpie reader, gathering bright little buttons of knowledge, before hopping on to the next shiny thing...

If the culprit is obvious, so is the primary victim of this radically reduced attention span: the narrative, the long-form story, the tale. Like some endangered species, the story now needs defending from the threat of extinction in a radically changed and inhospitable digital environment.

Macintyre's arguments do not ring true to me for several reasons.

First, he is unable to prove that email, texting, twittering, blogging, etc cannot exist side-by-side with more traditional forms of story-telling. In this very article, Macintyre claims that America's rapt attention to the Obama narrative this past fall indicates our "hunger for narrative." One could just as easily argue that our ability to sustain interest in Obama's life story indicates that narrative story-telling is alive and well.

Second, a story does not have to be long to be a good story. I really didn't like how Macintyre was really criticizing damage to the long narrative, but did not make that distinction consistently in his article. One might argue that our attention span has shrunk to a ridiculously short amount, making even the most simple narrative impossible to digest, but hour long dramas on television would beg to differ. Perhaps television or a four page email from Mom, isn't what Macintyre has in mind, but it reeks of snobbery to pretend that something has to be printed and the length of Moby Dick to qualify as a narrative.

Third, even if we presume that narrative story telling is in trouble, I don't think that there is good evidence at all that the internet is the source of damage to the long narrative. In Claude Fisher's book, America Calling: A Social History of the Telephone to 1940, Fisher argues "telephone company management shifted advertising during the 1920's to reflect the demands of the private consumer. Prior to this shift, managers marketed the telephone as a practical, rather than social, tool. Once they realized more Americans were buying automobiles instead of telephones, the telephone companies changed their marketing strategies to reflect the predominant use of their product."

Consumers drive how content is developed and marketed. If internet technology is used to break communication down into smaller and smaller pieces, I don't think the technology that enables this is to blame. A better culprit would be societal forces that demand that people spend less and less time communicating and more and more time working or consuming.

Also, it's a little weird that a newspaper article is criticizing the loss of a long-form narrative. Pot calling kettle black, dude?

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

follow through

Check out Jay Smooth's video "On Being First," which incorporates a concept he discusses a couple times at illdoctrine, The Little Hater.



My Little Hater tells me that I'm terrible at follow-through so why try to begin with (what a self-fulfilling prophesy...). It tells me that the things I write about are cutesy and predictable and that I fit really neatly into stereotypes. Basically, it tells me to STFU.

Do you have a Little Hater?

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

What the hell, Jezebel?

All day long this post at Jezebel (regarding Penelope Trunk's tweeting about her relief over having a miscarriage (while at work) as opposed to going through the three week waiting period to get an abortion in her state) has been driving me crazy.

It's this part in particular
And, unfortunately for everyone, now that this has gone national, the context and way in which Trunk framed this confirms the worst and most fantastical ideas of the anti-choice movement: that women (especially career women!) who have abortions all do so casually and callously on their lunch breaks, the way one might get a manicure.

Here's the tweet:
I'm in a board meeting. Having a miscarriage. Thank goodness, because there's a fucked-up 3-week hoop-jump to have an abortion in Wisconsin.

What makes Lindsay think that this tweet indicates a casual or callous attitude towards abortion/miscarriage? Relief about a miscarriage or lack of regret about deciding to get an abortion DOES NOT indicate that a woman hasn't thought carefully about whether or not she wants an abortion. Neither does talking about it openly.

I'm tired of people telling Trunk to shut up about her miscarriage or if she's not going to shut then to at least grieve. I mean how much difference is there really between a pro-lifer telling Trunk that she should cry for her "dead baby" and Lindsay telling her that tweeting about this shows a callous and casual attitude about abortion.

My pro-choice movement isn't about advancing women's reproductive rights only if they have "appropriate" stories ("the life of the mother was at risk," "she really didn't want to have an abortion, but had to because the baby was sick," "she cried for days"). My pro-choice movement is about women having the right to choose when they're going to have children, how many children they're going to have, and how they're going to raise those children.


Please note: All pro-life comments will immediately result in a 15 dollar donation to a pro-choice organization, so please don't bother.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Arrived in CT around noon on Saturday. Sister et al were at the grocery store, but soon arrived. We all headed out on the boat for some swimming and sunning. Ate a late lunch and an even later dinner, BBQ ribs that Sis and her boyfriend made with a salad and read wine. Catching up before bed.

On Sunday we lazed around the house in the morning before heading back out on the water for tubing, swimming, and reading on the boat. I tried to teach H gin, but had forgotten everything except the most basic rules, so sis had to step in. H and I made Spinach-Feta-Pine Nut-Chicken pasta with a fry-up of zucchini, yellow squash, and corn on the side. Sis taught us a new drinking game involving dice called 3 men. Lots and lots of laughter.

Today H and I headed back to the grocery store to stalk up for the week. Now it's just the two of us as the gang had to return to their work/school weeks. We covered up the boat because it looked cloudy. Tonight we made breaded coconut shrimp and french fries for dinner. During the day I went on a five mile walk around the lake and caught up on podcasts. Tonight it's late tv and ice cream.

A good vacation has begun.

Friday, September 4, 2009

On anger

I used to think that I had to choose between not allowing myself to feel angry and blowing up. Now I see that there is another option: I can choose to feel angry, but control my temper. Feel it, but then let it go.

I am still working on understanding that disagreements do not have to make me angry at all. And that losing my temper when someone is trying to tell me something means, essentially, ending the discussion. If I choose to stay calm and hear what someone has to say, the worst thing that could happen is that I still disagree, but that I understand their position better.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Painting by Lucien Freud. From here.

Also, I'm reading Middlemarch and loving it.

Here and there a cygnate is reared uneasily among duckings in the brown pond, and never finds the living stream in fellowship with its own oary-footed kind. Here and there is born a Saint Theresa, foundress of nothing, whose loving heart-beats and sobs after an unattained goodness tremble off and are dispersed among hindrances, instead of centering in some long-recognizable deed.

Friday, July 24, 2009

I am

I have been thinking about something lately. And it's probably the result of reading a lot of self-improvement blogs. Such as these, that L suggested to me.

What if I retired the phrase "I am" from my vocabulary? What I mean by that is the type of "I am" that lays claim to an idea of some aspect of myself as permanent and unchangeable.

Examples of some of the ones I've been thinking of ditching:

I am quick to anger.

I am not the prettiest girl here.

I am not good at trying new things.

I am too emotional.

Saying "I am" these things, allows me to see them as an integral part of *who I am*, things that others must accept about me if they want to be friends with me (and that I just have to accept about myself). But what if, instead, these are just ways I *can be* sometimes. Could I let go of them? Could I take responsibility for them as choices (maybe choices I am prone to, but still choices)?

I think it seems freeing to think this way.