Week 5: Identity Tourism and Internet Deception (Writing 614)

Highlights from blog posts (made more difficult by the fact that I can’t copy/paste from Digication, please bear with my paraphrasing):
Allison  posted that online communication seems to be far less interactive today than it was in 1998, when Donath published her article on Internet ethos and deception–more like a billboard, less of a community.

 

Aneela discussed the disturbing aspects of online deception and the examples in Catfish (both the movie and the tv show).  She also got me to watch, finally, the movie Catfish, which was a highly rewarding experience beyond what I’ve heard about it from others (as basically an indictment of social networking where one cannot trust others to be real). She also wrote: “For some it is a chance to not be judged based on their race, religion or income the way they would when meeting someone face to face, Instead it is an opportunity to be welcomed based on thoughts and creativity, even though people construct images of how a person looks in their head anyway. It is also true that many people just want to get their voice out and engage in discussions without intentionally deceiving anyone.”  I will say a bit more about Catfish below.

 

Bryan wrote: “Although the channel of expression has changed overtime, the idea of self-expression in a digital space has only become a proven fact. More particularly, social interaction has been now completed in a digital way not just through an analog or perhaps linear fashion.”  This relates back to how remediations of the letter, the book, the journal, etc. and even the movie have turned what might have once been one-way signals into exploding networks (a Twitter or Facebook post hitting anywhere from 1 to 5000 receivers at once).

 

Maria questioned Donath’s desire to improve social cues in online communication: “My thought when I read this was, why would anyone want social cues—they are limiting and dictated by presupposition. Yes, systems are possible that can track participants’ behavior, but why would one want to track such information? When talking about a virtual life, the thing that makes it the most appealing (to me) is the interplay (emphasis on play) of many imaginations simultaneously in the virtual world.”

 

Michael shared a story of his youthful (and extensive) involvement in online communities, in which he managed to convince a listener that he lived in Anarctica. What this story showed me was how Internet deception is partial and fragmentary, in many cases, and reminds me of Haraway and her cyborg commitment to partiality and irony.  That seemed clear in Mike’s example, as he did not set out thinking: tonight I’m going to deceive someone on the Internet.  He decided to not share his location with a group, and when someone questioned him about the one item that he fabricated –his location–he decided to play that role instead of correct the “error.”

 

Deborah read boyd’s “Writing Oneself Into Being” and compared the features of Facebook to the features that boyd discussed in her review of teens’ use of MySpace.  In particular, she pointed out the increased visibility of friends’ presence on Facebook profiles as a feature that makes teens (and others) more aware of audience; also, she discussed the sophisticated privacy features of Facebook and how these can allow teens to filter for audience in a way that MySpace did not encourage (although they still often ignore these features).

 

Libby researched the LambdaMoo and provided us with a great screenshot of the textual interface that Julian Dibbell would have been seeing during the days of “A Rape in Cyberspace.”  She also pointed out  insightfully that Bungle’s case is a case of identity tourism, although it has less to do with race and more to do with gender.  (However, I’d point out that some of the victims described in the story were raced avatars.  One of them was of “interdeterminate gender” but was also described as a Haitian trickster.)

 

Ryn took us back to the fandom communities of tumblr and provided examples of race whitewashing in fanart, even when the characters being featured are clearly raced in the original work.  She provided as evidence several screenshots and quotes, including the example of a participant who was shocked by the racing of the character of Rue in The Hunger Games (even though the character in the book was described as dark-skinned).  This person had imagined an “innocent blonde” Rue, not “some black girl.”  The association of whiteness with innocence was striking.

 

Anne took another careful look at boyd’s “Writing Oneself Into Being” and noted with interest that the youth studied by boyd did not veer very far from their offline selves, seeming to express a wish to simply “be” online rather than construct a persona.  She also noted that Nakamura seems to think this is pretty impossible to do.  She also noted that Twitter seems more likely to encourage unstable personas because of the brevity of the forum, even more so than MySpace.

 

Scott reviewed “A Rape in Cyberspace” with reflection on how great a disappointment LambdaMoo must have been to those who initially regarded it as a safe haven or utopia from the limitations of the real world, and compared the current state of the Internet to 5th-century Athens, where a cacophony of unqualified voices led to the collapse of democracy there.  He stated that Internet communities are more imaginary than real.

Going back briefly to Catfish–without issuing too many spoilers if you haven’t seen it–(and I do recommend it as required viewing for anyone studying social media, and I waited far too long to see it myself)–what moved me most about it was that yes, this woman might have been a pathological liar if you diagnosed her, but she was also clearly a gifted artist who felt she was in danger of completely losing her voice in the world, and what comes through is her utter soaring desperation to make herself seen by someone else who “mattered,” someone who was living the kind of life that she had once dreamed of having.  The tenderness with which she and her family is outed in the film tells me that the filmmakers did, actually, see her spirit.  Others disagree, as I can see from angry comments on the IMDB website (they think that the filmmakers mocked her, called her crazy, etc.).  I would be interested in what others here think of it.  I also am thinking of Vince’s final speech of the movie, when the name of the film is put into perspective, and how this relates back to Hayles’ theory about pattern-making and noise as the replacement of presence and absence.

 

photo Catfish Anatomy Study by ~DelightsJD (issued for reuse with modification by Creative Commons)

Week 4 (pre-discussion) Writing 614: Ethos and Remediation

I just re-read Julian Dibbell’s “Rape in Cyberspace” followed by Judith Donath’s “Identity and Deception in the Virtual Community,” and paid a heck of a lot closer attention to the Donath article because of that. It’s interesting how readings play off of each other to make one notice them more acutely. The first time I read Donarth, I was rather captivated by the descriptions of Usenet and starting thinking about my newbie forays into the web during graduate school. This time around, I paid much closer attention to her research on online ethos, and wondered why I had never referred to this while doing research on ethos in composition in general a few years back.

Let me toss this out for consideration: Online communication forums (CMC) remediate ethos, situated ethos. In the same way that it remediates the embodied subject (as is shown so dramatically in Dibbell’s “A Rape in Cyberspace”), it remediates the rhetorical subject, albeit differently. In both cases, the subject becomes less transparent, somewhat in the way that modern art makes its media come into focus (rather than it just being a means to representation). In both cases, the embodied subject behind the online one has deliberately chosen elements to represent themselves online (their avatar, their constructed profile and actions in the MOO, the documentation that contributes to their reputation in a USENET group). Constructed identities push the older, “natural” subject up a notch as those older identities become more visible, more scrutinized–less transparent.

So what happens in this process of “remediating” the “human” presence? What are we making? What are we abstracting here?

Here’s Donath:

Identity also plays a key role in motivating people to actively participate in newsgroup discussions. It is easy to imagine why people may seek information on the net: they have a problem and would like a solution. What prompts someone to answer? Why take the effort to help an unknown and distant person? Altruism is often cited: people feel a desire or obligation to help individuals and to contribute to the group [Constant et al. 95]. Yet selfless goodwill alone does not sustain the thousands of discussions: building reputation and establishing one’s online identity provides a great deal of motivation. There are people who expend enormous amounts of energy on a newsgroup: answering questions, quelling arguments, maintaining FAQs [1]. Their names – and reputations – are well-known to the readers of the group: other writers may defer to their judgement, or recommend that their ideas be sought in an argument. In most newsgroups, reputation is enhanced by posting intelligent and interesting comments, while in some others it is enhanced by posting rude flames or snide and cutting observations. Though the rules of conduct are different, the ultimate effect is the same: reputation is enhanced by contributing remarks of the type admired by the group. To the writer seeking to be better known, a clearly recognizable display of identity is especially important. No matter how brilliant the posting, there is no gain in reputation if the readers are oblivious to whom the author is.

It gets really interesting when she talks about deception on the Internet by observing parallels among deception in animal societies, and wonders why, since deception can be useful for survival, it doesn’t occur more frequently:

Why don’t more harmless butterflies mimic the bad-tasting monarch? And why don’t weak, undesirable mates just pretend to be strong, desirable ones?There is not a simple answer to this question; there is not even agreement among biologists as to how common, or effective, is deception. If a signal becomes very unreliable due to excessive cheating it ceases to convey information – it stops being a signal. Yet there are stable systems of deception, where the percentage of deceivers does not overwhelm the population, and the signal remains information-bearing, however imperfectly. And there are signals that are inherently reliable: signals that are difficult, or impossible, to cheat.

Here we are again talking about information systems, not present or absent groupings of bodies. If there is some deception going on in animal societies, that can contribute to survival, but if there is too much of this “noise,” the society/system itself seems to break down.  So perhaps some of this “noise” (to recall Hayles) is actually good for the system or society, invigorates it, allows it to reorganize on a higher level.

Writing 614: Week 3

(contains spoilers about Sherlock, “A Scandal in Belgravia”)

The theme was “Bodies, Interrupted;”  the objects of analysis were N. Katherine Hayles How I Became Posthuman, chapter 2, Donna Haraway’s “Cyborg Manifesto,” and “A Scandal in Belgravia” from the TV series Sherlock.  The quote that Ryn Silverstein posted at the beginning of her blog post, “We are living through a movement from an organic, industrial society to a polymorphous, information system–from all work to all play, a deadly game” (Haraway 161) seemed like a fitting introduction to a discussion of the story of Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler posthumanized.

The erotization of the “camera phone” owned by Adler is such a rich topic for discussions of the character as a cyborg (“a cybernetic organism, a hybrid of machine and organism, a creature of social reality as well as a creature of fiction” –Haraway) as well as a pattern of information: “Identifying information with both pattern and randomness proved to be a powerful paradox, leading to the realization that in some instances, an infusion of noise into a system can cause it to reorganize at a higher level of complexity.  Within such a system, pattern and randomness are bound together in a complex dialectic that makes them not so much opposites as complements or supplements to one another. Each helps to define the other, and each contributes to the flow of information through the system” (Hayles 25).

The ending of the Sherlock episode raised a few of our feminist eyebrows, as the 21st-century Adler loses the game with Sherlock, unlike the original Irene Adler in “A Scandal in Bohemia.”  Sherlock beats Irene in the final round of the “game,” and she becomes a target of terrorists as her protection is taken away.  Vulnerable and about to be killed, Irene texts Sherlock for a final time.  From the vantage of Sherlock’s memory, we see that he somehow managed to pose as her executioner and saved her at the last second.  She smiles (gratefully?) as the episode ends.  The whole thing looked very much like Prince “Charming” saving the princess.  However, if you read it as a text on posthumanism using Hayles as a guide, it’s more interesting than that, to me.  Perhaps Adler was the noise that caused Sherlock’s pattern-making machine (cyborg self?) to reorganize at a higher level complexity, and that was how he was savvy enough to save her.  She certainly will no longer contribute to the flow of information through his system if she’s dead (erased).

Also, we had some postings and discussions about whether the authors are utopian (Haraway) or apocalyptic (Hayles).  This is probably intensified by the fact that both writers use science-fiction works as examples in their theory-making.  I remember reading Haraway years ago and being rather turned-off by the idea that nature was socially constructed. The very word “posthuman” raises anxiety in readers, for perhaps we fear that something is being taken away from us.  What is it that makes these writers seem to be throwing down a gauntlet?  What do they have at stake for you?

Ways in which technology is improving human life were also discussed, especially in relationship to Wagner James Au’s “Nine Souls of Wilde Cunningham” and the video that Scott shared with us about a teenage girl with autism who broke out of the prison of her own body.

Week 3: Pre-discussion notes (WRT 614)

I just need to jot down a few thoughts for tomorrow’s discussion.  I read the several blog posts that have already been published on the readings with much interest in your penetrating perspectives on Hayles, especially in relation to Sherlock.

One point of entry/interest between the two texts (video episode and theory) is trying to figure out what Adler means to Sherlock in this story.  Is she friend, girlfriend, enemy, spy, lover, arch-nemesis, etc.?  It might be safe enough to say that traditional labels of relationship don’t clarify anything in this case.  What is Adler in terms of Hayles’ polarities: presence/absence, flickering signifier, information/noise?  6669196753_8705f44ba0Hayles writes:

Identifying information with both pattern and randomness proved to be a powerful paradox, leading to the realization that in some instances, an Identifying information with both pattern and randomness proved to be a powerful paradox, leading to the realization that in some instances, an infusion of noise into a system can cause it to reorganize at a higher level of complexity.  Within such a system, pattern and randomness are bound together in a complex dialectic that makes them not so much opposites as complements or supplements to one another. Each helps to define the other, and each contributes to the flow of information through the system. (25)

Other things to consider: In Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, Maria’s final gesture is to bring together the head and hands (the head of state and the workers symbolized in the presence of Joh and Freder, father and son) to mediate via the heart.  In this postmodern story of head, hands, and heart (remember how Moriarty intones that he will burn the heart out of Sherlock?), what is “the heart”? What, if anything, mediates?

photo credit: LicenseAttribution Some rights reserved by Cea.

 

 

 

Week 2 Reflection: Writing 614

In conversations about Remediation:  Understanding New Media (Bolter/Grusin 2000), Multiliteracies for a Digital Age (Selber 2004), and “Multimodal Composing: Appropriation, Remediation, and Reflection: Writing, Literature, and Media” (Reiss/Young 2013), points of interests came up as to the weblike nature of remediation today.  Webs and networks preoccupy our thinking and practices, and remediation flows in a web that is often almost immediate (interesting word given the authors’ preoccupation with immediacy (and immersion) versus hypermediacy) and relentless.  Michael brought in examples of game manuals from Mysts, the 20-year-old fantasy online game, and Bioshock Infinite, which has just been released, and pointed out that the styles and focal points of the manuals show drastically differing perspectives toward the media being promoted, described, and instructed for.  The Mysts manual describes an imaginative experience mainly, while the Bioshock manual focuses on the media from a more technical perspective (perhaps one could say, toward a more functional literacy than a critical or rhetorical literacy, in Selber’s terms).  Clearly the audiences for the two manuals are different.

However, it’s perhaps not wise to draw quick conclusions about what this means.  Bioshock Infinite is an extremely imaginative game, and players are certainly going to be immersed in the experience of playing it.  (The manual warns against physical signs of stress and urges epileptics not to play.)  Perhaps the makers of Mysts felt that they had to persuade players to become immersed in their fictional world, and the makers of Bioshock don’t even consider that worth mentioning?  More likely, it seems to me, today’s players are sophisticated consumers of technology and more likely to appreciate the specs; perhaps there are now so many online communities and forums devoted to the storyline and mythology of Bioshock (I know professors who have taught courses about it, or at leat part of a course, and written academic critiques of the earlier version) that it seems wasteful to replicate this in a game manual (after all, who reads game manuals in this day and age?).

In Mária’s summary of Multiliteracies for a Digital Age and the conversations that followed, the point of the text was interrogated a bit.  Is this a template for teachers? Should every writing teacher strive to teach functional, critical, and rhetorical uses of the computer as well as the critical thinking, generic distinctions, and rhetorical knowledge associated with composition? It’s not an easy proposition and less so in some circumstances.  We generally agree that 1) teachers do not need to be experts in all kinds of technology to encourage students to compose in it, which was a point made in Young/Riess, and 2) students should not be judged on technical prowess in a writing course, but on how well they could reflect on and write about their use of technology to communicate something (also in Young/Riess).  I asked the class to think of how a teacher could then make relatively sure that a student did progress in their ability to use technology in effective ways to communicate without undue anxiety.

 

photo:  “Bioshock2′ License Some rights reserved by verifex

Lara Croft is Restless

and so am I!2013-06-30 21.22.20

I found a folder full of poems.  The files are text and they were typed in Applewriter or whatever that *amazing* word processing program of long-ago Macintosh computers was called.  Yes, I’ve forgotten the name.  It would be easy to Google but that would be beside the point.  Fact is that for ten years I used this program and I believe I typed my entire dissertation in it and now I cannot retrieve the name from the folds of my brain.

I got my first personal computer in graduate school.  I bought it off my officemate for five hundred dollars.  It was a reconfigured Mac Plus inside a Mac LISA.  Yes, that fiasco of Steven Jobs, named after the daughter that he refused to claim…you all saw Pirates of Silicon Valley.  8032162544_c565824982_zThat personal computer that was sold for around $10k and was a failure because people aren’t completely insane, all the time.  The shells were refurbished with the internal workings comparable to more reasonably priced Mac Pluses.  (Correction:  It had LISA hardware and used emulation software to mimic the Mac Plus. See Dean’s comment below.) The computer had a black-and-white display and if I remember correctly, it did not have a hard drive.  The system was on floppy disks. (Correction: I did not remember correctly after all.  It did have a small hard disk…the earliest versions ran on a floppy-disk system.)  It looked rather like your grandma’s kitchen radio with a little TV screen on one side.  If I hadn’t given it away to someone who had absolutely no use for it (a street musician, albeit a brilliant one–he certainly could have used it, but wasn’t all that interested in learning how), I might have sold it to a museum or on eBay and made some decent money.  My second personal computer was a Mac Performa, a much more conventional (and brand-new) sort of desktop, with a color (!) display.  That was where I used my first email account.  Truly, I had a computer well before I ever used email.  My first computer I used primarily as a word processor.  I picked over the applications and played with the calculator.

It seems useful to remember one’s old tech as well as one’s old poetry.  I found what had to be the worst poem I ever wrote:

Ditty

fleur du bonheur
fleur du mal
fleur de la jeunesse
fleur du jaune
fleur du lapin
fleur de la vache
fleur de la voiture
fleur du lait
fleur du café
fleur du thé
fleur de la crevasse
fleur des pieds
fleur du merde
et fleur d’or
fleur on the shelf
at the grocery store

On the file I opened, the poem was sandwiched in between chunks of code that appeared as the text reader translated the poem out of Applewriter, a kind of digital noise.  Something weird just happened.  I pasted that code in and wrote a whole paragraph about it, saved and published it–and everything after the poem just vanished.  So I guess it said something to WordPress that turned it invisible.  This is infinitely cooler than what I had written, but a little annoying too.

What I had written is that I had been trying to learn elementary French in graduate school and this poem, as it were, was a kind of nonsense noise my brain was generating, a kind of joke, as I was learning vocabulary and syntax.  And this entire blog post is also a similar kind of noise, like crickets chirping outside through the hum of the air conditioning.  And that that’s ok.  Given what happened, it seems like I should mention in addition that when you’re playing with computer code, noise can silence itself as it becomes visible in the exact right place.

 

Mac LISA photoAttribution Some rights reserved by alvy

A Gravatarium

labrador by possumgirl2I’m not sure such a word, gravatarium, exists, but I’d like to think it’s a type of moratorium that has nothing to do with money or payments.  A moment for reflection on gravatars?

I have a gravatar on WordPress.com and it is finally showing up on my account next to my username, but it doesn’t show up on my list of blogs next to this blog.  It shows up next to my WordPress. COM blogs, not next to my WordPress.ORG main blog.  And it doesn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things, but for some reason I’m completely irritated by it.

People (like me) get hung up on these totally insignificant technical details.  We see this is writing courses a lot with small, fairly insignificant mechanical details when we really want students to attend to something bigger, like critical thinking.  It’s no different, really.  Writing is just an older technology.

The pleasure I feel when I solve a minor tech issue like this is no different than getting the punctuation correct in an MLA bibliography.

Jimmy Fallon posted a Facebook snippet about his dog with the tag, “I will always love you, Gary.”  People were confused because they thought perhaps the dog in the picture had passed away.  I wasn’t sure, either.  A few hours later, Fallon clarified that the dog was alive.  A fan posted a concern about the intellectual status of the fans who had thought the dog was dead based on the position of the comma after you.  She claimed that if the comma had been omitted, it would have meant the dog was dead, but since the comma was there, it was absolutely clear that the dog was alive.  She then lamented the state of public education.

I don’t get it, either.

If the dog was named Gary, then he could had been dead or alive, comma or not.  If the sentence was the dog talking to the baby in the picture, then well whatevah, comma or not, it still doesn’t really matter, right?

There should be a comma whether or not the dog is alive!

If you really want to lament the state of public education for a silly reason, get upset over the fact that dogs don’t use speech, and therefore, we cannot know what they are saying…then the problem is Jimmy Fallon’s lack of schooling, since education is all about curbing that out-of-control imagination that allows one to pretend dogs have speech. Obviously, that’s a problem….not.

And, if your mind is yet unblown…Jimmy Fallon’s Gary is a she-dog!

 

Reflecting on AAEEBL, Boston, and what’s ahead

So I just got back from Boston and the AAEEBL conference.

I love Boston and would like to live there someday.  It’s a walker’s city.

The Sheraton Boston is a beautiful hotel, with horrible scratchy towels and peculiar WiFi service, not to mention horrible mobile phone reception. << The view was spectacular from our room.  533680_10201702275189734_1704355893_nThe shopping at Copley Place was pretty much grade-A upscale mall in a gorgeous structure and you never really have to go outside unless you want to.  Food is plentiful and good:  we had seafood one night, Chicago-style pizza the next, and the ubiquity of Cheesecake Factory.  There wasn’t enough time to try P.F. Chang’s, but those giant stone horses in front were like some kind of acid flashback vision (in a most entertaining way).

My presentation was a five-minute “ignite” session.  I saw some of these in Utica last month and enjoyed them, but being on the other end of the presentation was not so much fun.  The presenters at Utica CIT had six minutes and 20 seconds.  That would have made a difference for the 20-slide presentation.  I would have been able to speak without feeling like someone was standing behind me with a pitchfork.  The emcee actually said…he actually said this, “This is a sudden-death, no return kind of presentation.”  I told him to stop and he said oh sorry, it’s supposed to be fun.  -_-  <<that’s my evaluation of this kind of thing….it was not fun at all.  I will not ever travel out of state to present for five minutes feeling like I need to race through my points. All it takes is one stutter or longish breath and you’ve missed a slide.  There it goes….whoosh, you’re screwed.  On the other hand,  many of us are altogether too verbose when we present.  In the future, I will know exactly how to give a tight twelve to fifteen minute presentation with no problem.  The problem is that I feel like there is an inherent caste system at work when some presenters get five minutes while others get twenty and yet others get an hour.  I’m not at all convinced that the presentations I saw that were twenty minutes long were more substantive than the Ignite sessions were.  I don’t see the logic behind the choices.  I also saw presenters during the 20 minute sessions scrambling for time and I found myself wondering why (although I’ve often been in that situation as well).  I think we all should have had ten to twelve minutes to do whatever we wanted with. I don’t feel it was a good format for my presentation, but I hope that some will look over the Powerpoint presentation at leisure. It should be more entertaining there.

I saw two keynote presentations.  I enjoyed Randy Bass and Bret Enyon speaking together, as a unit (no, not at identical moments, but back and forth)…I began to think of them as the Twin Consorts.  They had interesting things to say about the future of the ePortfolio movement in the era of high-tech efficiency and massive deployment we are entering.  There is momentum for more formalized assessment, it seems, of ePortfolio learning.  The second keynote (Helen Chen and Gary Brown) seemed more geared toward “converting the non-believers,” although I may have misjudged that.

One of the most unique regular sessions I saw was Howard Sanborn and Jenny Ramirez presenting “Successes and Challenges of Using ePortfolios to Teach About Asia: Reports from Humanities and Social Sciences,” followed by John McLaughlin and Donna Gruber of Queen’s College presenting on using ePortfolios to teach a hybrid course with Vietnamese students. Both sessions were underattended. The second session, in particular, I felt was instructive in terms of how ePortfolios may eventually play a strong role in shaping the high-tech massive deployment educational culture of the future.

 

 

 

A blavatar reflecting in the blogosmirror: midsummer dreaming of MOOClets

This week brought out a less appealing facet of my personality.  I did nothing in the #clmooc at all, except check in a few times.  This was the special week where everyone was making credos, a “this I believe” sort of aria of affirmation about connecting, teaching, making, writing….etc.  And I just didn’t feel up to a new declaration.  Not that I haven’t made plenty of these in the past.  For example:

On Writing

Yet much of what I did the last week and a half was related to the values I hold about connected learning, as some of my colleagues and I brainstorm plans for our own MOOC.  MOOClet.  MOOC Module (MOOM?)  We’re writing in the middle of night, holding conversations on Google docs,  interrupting each other in mid-sentence sometimes, stopping to feed babies or sleep or say goodbye before short roadtrips.  Occasionally, it gets a little freaky and I have to move chunks of the conversation around to a special “other” place so I can stay focused, whatever that means.

Frankly, I find the prospect of this MOOClet rather overwhelming (perhaps ever so slightly terrifying) after seeing how expansive the #clmooc can be.  Yet, it is so very exciting because so much of my life’s value exists online now, and so far, my teaching hasn’t been online.  That’s not entirely true, of course, as there is teaching discussion on Facebook and ePortfolios and LinkedIn groups, and Blackboard, always.  Websites.  But the courses have not been online courses per se.

Experience has taught me that teaching, like life, often happens while you are busy making other plans.  There is a good chance that the moment where one says “now I am ready to teach a MOOC” never arrives in life.  As for credos, they come on little cats’ feet, in the midsummer dreaming, perhaps.  If you value poetry, perhaps, you can appreciate a slanted credo ala Emily Dickinson’s truth.

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Of the Map That Changes

 

Writers and maps have always had a special relationship.  This week in the #clmooc, we made maps and talked about maps a lot.  It was rather difficult for me to get into the mapmaking frame of mind, and while others were mapping their streets and their minds and their futures (no dearth of creativity there), I resisted at first.  I fussed about privacy.  Did I really want to map my location?ofthemapthatchanges3  I’ve never been a big fan of Foursquare because I don’t like to advertise my location, although of course I do in various ways all the time, as I think most of us do unless we make a concerted effort to conceal our whereabouts.  I starting digging around a website my hometown keeps of historical maps, dating back to the 18th century.  (See the results in the post below this one, Drowned Meadow Revisited.)  But the influence of the week’s assignment was deeper than I had expected. ofthemapthatchanges2  I remembered that an entire study area of my doctoral comprehensive was focused on the poetry of place.  So many, many brilliant poems and so many of my favorite works are poems of place, really verbal maps, usually either narratives of real geographies in a state of just being perceived (Michael Anania’s Riversongs) or or virtual places being mapped out for the mind’s habitation (Dante’s Inferno, William Hunt’s corridors of Orpheus, Robert Duncan’s meadow of the mind, Sylvia Plath’s cave in “Nick and the Candlestick”).  The virtual realities of Second Life and Azeroth are navigable by map.  In World of Warcraft, these wonderful maps begin almost blank but begin to develop, expose terrain, gradually as the player encounters new regions. This is such a salient and profound metaphor for learning that it makes my jaw drop.  One cannot understand where one is without some form of map,ofthemapthatchanges1 although maps can take many forms.  One cannot do analysis without some form of map, and analysis is indeed a form of mapping, whether it be form written texts, for places in the world, for media of any sort, or for understanding current events or dreams.  And the best maps are the ones that we make ourselves, as the world makes itself known to us, and we chart it, for ourselves and for others who follow our lead.

“Of the Map That Changes” is a poem in a  collection of the same name by William Hunt. It was first published in Poetry in April, 1968, eleven years before I met him in Chicago.  The three photos above were screenshots taken today on my iPad in Google Earth and run through Instagram; the application flattened the terrain, in essence turning my street into Flatland.  Fascinating!