Category: politics

Someone called my attention to this article. Very much worth reading.

Around midnight tonight, I drove to a local Barnes & Noble for the release of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. When else was I going to be around Southern California, which most of me detests, surrounded by people to whom I mostly cannot relate, participating in a real American fan frenzy? This had to be witnessed.
Continue reading “In with the herd, and other politics.”

Sounds like a good title for a children’s book, no?

I write the following as a person only marginally related to what they call electronic literature. But, hey, electronic writers and electronic scholars are finally coming together in significant ways, so I write down some thoughts on a conflict.

Mark Bernstein recently resigned from the Electronic Literature Organization. ELO’s president Marjorie Coverley Luesebrink wrote an open letter to Mark in response.

Wow, the political strife. From a deeply subjective perspective, I found Mark’s letter too vague and… impolite? bitter? spatteringly spiteful? The ELO letter I found, if nothing else, rather more precise, speaking to specific issues and fully acknowledging the significant contributions Mark has made to the electronic literature field.

Part of me refuses to take an unequivocal side, though my doing or not doing so would not matter to anyone actually involved in the conflict or in ELO’s work. Besides, I am certain that my impressions have been influenced to some extent by the several friends and acquaintances I have who are active in ELO. But the whole thing strikes me as wholly unnecessary and generative of more spite than absolutely necessary. It’s been clear to me that ELO and Mark Bernstein have had different ideas about promoting electronic literature, but to promote one side by stating that the other is an active hindrance does nobody any good. People will continue to participate in ELO, and they (or other people) will continue to attend eNarrative roundtables. (That I won’t go to any more eNarratives is a matter of finances; the first two were actually quite enjoyable.) But ideology is a funny thing, prone to being expressed to the exclusion of opposing ideas. Only time will show whose approach to the promotion of electronic literature is the better one; this is true regardless of whether venomous remarks are made in the meantime. Me, I’ll balk at the staggering price of a recent Eastgate publication and hope to take a look at it sometime without breaking my graduate-student’s bank account.

this one is not much special. and yet.

Last Thursday, I had a choice: go to a Groovelily concert, or go to an anti-war protest. I sent e-mail to my concert companions, to the effect of – I’m going to the protest. It’s called for 5pm. I may or may not make it to the show at 8.

Drove to Someday Cafe via Mass. Ave. and MIT, and was very pleased to see students &c. marching down the street, blocking most of it (we drivers could get by single-file), the cops accompanying them with their flashing lights on. I was rather depressed about the state of the world, so went to Someday, had some tea, and took the T to Government Center.

The protest was lame. Ill-thought-out, it was a pacifist protest – wholesale against war. Bring Our Troops Home. While a great sentiment, this leads to a perception by the opposition (the war’s/administration’s supporters) that the people there were a bunch of peaceniks. That’s easy to dismiss: Are you pro-Saddam, then? Would you rather he remain in power? Peace-not-war isn’t the point here. The point I was (thought we were) protesting is how the war was brought about, the Bush administration’s blatant disregard for the UN, its hypocrisy and self-serving attitude – all these things are much better articulated by others. The Boston protesters made their arguments an easy target for dismissal, and that’s a pity.

Pity, the above, but not disastrous. What was appalling was one of the first speakers. She was the first one I heard; I might’ve missed others while in a different part of City Hall Plaza. In a shrill voice, this woman informed us that the “bastards” who are ruining this country and what it stands for (I’m wildly paraphrasing here) are to be found not only in our central government, but also in our communities – in the face of police, who are brutal and evil and and…

And the police were standing there, keeping peace, hundreds of them behaving themselves impeccably.

I don’t know that this was the case everywhere, at all times; perhaps there was unnecessary police action. In fact, I think this, at least, signals which side of the protest line the police are officially on. But what good does it do to villify them? Like enlisted military servicepeople, they are doing their jobs. They’ll arrest yo ass if you try to block the entrance to a federal building. In fact, it seem that that’s the point for those who did get arrested; they wanted to be taken in, this is their form of protest. Downtalking the police is going to do zero.

Then the same speaker called on us all, Catholics and former Catholics alike (I am not kidding), to unite – and led us in prayer to the Catholic god. I had no words. She was trying to unite us this way?

Later, we marched down to Copley Square, which actually felt good (if ineffectual with regard to its actual effect on war decisions). It helped that I’d run into some people I knew, so we actually had thought-out conversation while walking.

Then I went to the concert. It was grand, a wonderful way to spend time, and I suspect that the laughter and good vibe generated at that show may’ve done more to counteract the general wave of suck than the protest.

Talking of lanuage abilities: today a demonstration on the big square in Gent with 4.000 school children, some just 5 years old, shouting: 1, 2, 3, 4, we don’t want a fucking war. Proves that they can count and swear in English.

I’ve been thinking, thanks to Noah (see his 1 january entry, and also today’s), about subscription-based Web content. He writespeaks out against it because, among other things,

if the network becomes largely subscription based (or micropayment based) then we’ll be restricting writing and reading to those who can pay – giving up on the dream I grew up on in public schools and libraries (of people being able to read and write at all income levels, or even as children with no money to spend).

He also talks about this in terms of linking – following Ted Nelson, he envisions the Web as a docuverse, in which we continually link the writing we add outselves to other writings already up there. If a link leads to a subscription-based service, and the reader is not subscribed to it, the reading experience is frustrating. (Consider: Even if the reader is subscribed to NYTimes, which does not require payment for subscription, the reading process is often annoyingly interrupted by a sign-in request.)

I can’t say I disagree with Noah’s lack of desire to publish writing that is not freely available. However, on a larger scale, it seems futile to me to attempt complete eradication of money-based Web publishing paradigms. One may choose to not participate in them, but they will remain, and will continue to offer content for which someone will be willing to pay. I think it would be better use of energy to (in addition to not writing for subscription-based publications) concentrate on getting, say, public libraries and schools subscriptions to this content and thus making it, like paper-bound books, available to the public at large at least through those venues.

The reason I’m so interested in this topic is that the Web, essentially, multiplies to some grand power the speed of cultural transmission – which is one of the things I am observing while studying Roland’s progress through the Western space and time. The reasons for cultural borrowing, the volunteering of information (literary and performative included) that may then be borrowed, the impetus to make use of one foreign story more than others… humans are fascinating.

On a slightly different note, this discussion is food for thought with regard to scholarly publication. There is a plethora of free Web-based publication space. So why publish in, say, Literary and Linguistic Computing, or in Computers and the Humanities? The first one is put out by ALLC and is available only with a membership in it. The second is published by ACH and, while available for subscription separately from a membership, is significantly discounted for members of the organization. Both publications are available in print and electronic forms.

The answer for me – and this is applicable in my mind only to scholarly publication in this still very small, heavily dependent on peer review, field – is that the two are not mutually exclusive, and not mutually harmful. I choose to pay for membership in both organizations because they provide me with tangible benefits aside from these publications, and because the work they do cannot happen without members’ financial support. This means that some of my writing (and I do not intend to place undue value on it, here) will not be available without someone’s – say, a university library’s – payment of a subscription fee. I am not really sure what the benefit for me is; except perhaps that as of this moment, publication that is only electronic is considered somehow less academically credible. This perception is slowly changing, but it will be some time; and it will also take more electronic publication venues that are rigorously peer-reviewed than we now have.

This last paragraph above isn’t really applicable to electronic literature and other artistic pursuits. But then, the linked/linking docuverse doesn’t consist solely of art.