Some Metablog Action: An Excerpt

My good friend Sten Carlson just pointed me toward this: from Jodi Dean’s fairly excellent (if slight unfortunately named) Blog Theory:

Blogging has been associated with murder and death ever since the mainstream media starting [sic] noticing it (around 2002). Just like video killed the radio star, film killed vaudeville, and television killed bowling leagues, so did blogs allegedly kill journalism and mainstream media, replacing these with idiots and amateurs who failed to check their facts and ranted about their pet issues (as well as issues with their pets). There’s a constant underlying all this killing–corporate power. Even as some media forms eclipse others, global conglomerates profit from the innovations while pernicious arrangements of state power benefit from a diverted populace. Television can’t deliver the requisite eyeballs? No problem. Switch gears, locate other sites to capitalize. The dominance of capitalism as a system requires changes in industry; innovation drives capitalism. State forms adapt as well: disintegrated spectacles allow for ever more advanced forms of monitoring, tracking, and surveillance. People plead for more cameras to keep them safe as they shop and happily relinquish personal data in exchange for saving a few cents here or there, for shaving seconds off this site or that (Jodi Dean, Blog Theory: Feedback and Capture in the Circuits of Drive [Malden MA: Polity, 2010], 39)

The Ominous Arrival of the Pale King

So, I’m not joking about this at all: David Foster Wallace’s forthcoming posthumous novel, The Pale King (2011), which is not due out for two weeks yet, arrived early today in my mailbox. Now, if it had arrived at virtually any other moment in time I would have simply been pleased to receive something I’ve been looking forward to for quite a while, but for it arrive today, today, the day I finished the first complete draft of my (very long indeed) dissertation chapter on ole DFW, a chapter I’ve been working on for almost a year now, a subject I researched for months, and have been writing since about October. . . well . . . .

As I cannot help but be in high-gear-grad-school-dissertation-anxiety-mode, one might think the universe is trying to tell me something, and I’ve boiled down the universe’s message to the following possibilities: 1) Great job on getting that massive amount of work finished! On to the next thing (Pynchon), and oh, by the way, here’s a little (much appreciated) gift for all your trouble; or, the far more disturbing 2) Ha ha! Just when you thought you were done w/ something a 500+ pg. novel of the writer you’re working on shows up on your door to potentially confound everything you’ve been working on so diligently and single-mindedly on for so long you can’t remember what it is like to not work on DFW. Nelson’s taunts (from the ole The Simpsons) have nothing on the universe if it is indeed taunting me in this way.

All that said, 50 pp. in and it looks like #1 is the universe’s msg., though I still have 500 pp. to go, and knowing the nature of such complex entities as “universal msgs.,” I’m not hedging any bets. Stay tuned. . . .

A Brief Note on This Week’s Episode of The Event, “Face Off”

So in all likelihood, The Event (2010-11) will join Stargate Universe (2009-11) as yet another SF casualty this year, being canceled, like so many SF shows of late, before it got a chance to really even get going.[1] But this is not for a lack of sincerely trying to keep a fickle audience enthralled. The writers of The Event have explicitly commented upon the lessons they’ve learned from such shows as Lost—i.e. they will raise huge plot-point questions and answer them quickly, like in the same episode they were raised (of course leading to other questions, which will be also answered quickly). The Event, from what I’ve seen, is very much dedicated to not stringing its viewers along w/ dangling MacGuffins week after week in order to create suspense. And if this last week’s episode “Face Off” is any indication, they’re trying to do more than just that.

Unlike SGU right now, The Event is not poking along, exploring relatively unimportant character psychology and non-big-picture-type-side-plots, but rather hitting us over the head again and again w/ game-changing “events.” (Yes I will spoil them.) In this last week’s episode alone a major character died, hundreds of alien refugees were killed by the US government, the Washington Monument was destroyed, it was revealed that these aliens had been among and had been persecuted by humans for thousands of years, the alien presidential aid’s cover was blown, and the sexy femme-fatale’s past as a CIA operative was partially revealed. In other words, “Face Off” was the kind of episode we usually only get at the beginning and end of seasons: major things happening that radically effect everything. The writers of The Event are clearly attempting to draw attention to the show, stay relevant, and create weekly episodes that are not just serial little entries that may add one thing or another, but essentially don’t really advance the story very much (I’m looking at you Lost). To put it bluntly: they are trying to stay on the air. And their efforts have produced one of the best mid-season SF episodes in recent memory. This is why the show will be canceled.

For what is perhaps apparent, the Nielsen ratings don’t measure fan involvement w/ a show, they don’t measure a viewer’s annoyance over a plodding plot, nor do they measure when a show really hits on every single cylinder and produces something very rare: a midseason episode which was frankly brilliant just in terms of its televisual form (i.e. a lot of stuff happened). What they measure is the “average” viewer who probably couldn’t care less what they’re watching so long as they’re staring at the television. The achievement of this last week’s episode of The Event then will most likely be a hollow one, for what they are attempting to do (not be Lost) will be “lost” on the average viewer (and really, Lost stayed on for six seasons b/c of its ridiculous plot lines). I hope I’m proven wrong, but if history is any guide—i.e. a show gets canceled when it’s starting to get really interesting, which takes time, something The Event is attempting to jump over, and just get straight to the interesting stuff—then The Event is about to get canceled w/ a huge ax. It just got too good too fast; and that the networks cannot abide for they cannot let any show be more interesting than the commercials which air alongside it.


[1] SGU is esp. sad b/c they canceled the show after this current season had been written (and filmed, I think), so I expect their plan on a five season run will leave viewers woefully unsatisfied when this season draws to a close.

We’ve Failed

the reading failed. we celebrated

the wrong enunciator. we hailed

yrs truly as messiah #1½. we failed.

we failed. of  course. there were those

before us. but we failed. ours was not

the line of collective flight. we failed.

we couldn’t stop once we’d started.

info-graphematics were marked by

shadetree mechanics. and still we failed.

we mark our geologic future w/ a past catastrophe.

i am nietzsche. we are failure.

i’m slouching toward trailer-park-bethlehems.

The Nuclear Imagination of the Strategic Air Command

The following clip is from a film made by the Air Force during 1956-7 that was recently made available by the US National Archive’s motion picture unit. Read about it and watch the full film here. I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising at all that the military commissioned a film to prepare those who might be involved for the eventuality of nuclear exchange b/t the US and USSR, but it also points toward the fact that even for the military nuclear war was a surprisingly textual (or filmic) phenomenon that could really only be imagined. Fascinating.

Two Small Bits of Hyperarchivalism

The first bit is an amazing adaptation of The Great Gatsby into a NES game! We are truly hyperarchival when a work of classic Am. lit. gets translated into a classic late-20th c. interactive medium–the 8-bit vid.–in 2011.

Also, my good friend Dave pointed me to a review of Repo Men that has a very different take on the film than my own–i.e. it isn’t as nearly gleefully celebratory, sadly.

Some Archival Metaphysics: Caprica and Digital Heaven

[Note: I’m not wholly satisfied w/ this post, but that has more to do w/ the fact I’m just beginning to formulate some of these questions/ideas, and they consequently are quite obviously not developed.]

The SyFy network’s recent attempt to capitalize on the success of Battlestar Galactica (Redux) ended fairly inauspiciously after only one season.  Caprica was canceled in October, 2010, and was off the air until SyFy “burned” the last five episodes on January 4th, 2011.  I only realized this a week later, and experienced the odd enjoyment that comes from watching five hours straight of a serial television show that ends coherently.

What I finally understood about Caprica in the end, something I was perhaps conscious of during its short run but didn’t really articulate to myself, was that I don’t really think the Caprica vs. BSG comparison is particularly interesting.  Yes, they’re clearly in the same universe, and are a compelling example of what Pawel Frelick calls a “dispersed narrative”[1] when considered together, but in terms of the aesthetic unity of their very different projects, it was always clear that Caprica’s production strove to distance itself from BSG, not only to attract new viewers (of course), but to create something stand-alone.  The various monetary reasons for such a goal aside, I not only appreciated this consistently, but it made the Caprica/BSG discussion slightly moot/obvious/metacritical/etc., because the show ultimately achieved being able to be considered on its own, and I think it did this primarily through having as its major point of intertextuality posthuman singularity narratives in general, rather than BSG specifically.  Sadly, it also failed to draw enough viewers to underwrite its fairly large budget.

Which, if there is an assessment to be made of the last episode, was ultimately in the show’s interest.  They were able to give a glimpse of “Things to Come” that was not only satisfying narratively, but implied more story.  W/ the dismal failures of final episodes in epic SF series of late (you know who you are), Caprica was refreshing in many, many ways.  (Which is also perhaps b/c it doesn’t have to end, but just give a glimpse of the future of the world the BSG franchise is building.)  But of course all of this is to say that though there may be some compelling discussions involving many aspects of this show, most of them are underscored by a persistent self-consciousness of not only SF conventions, but more importantly posthuman SF conventions; so I think it would be safe to say Caprica is entering into a posthuman discussion tropically: i.e. certain aspects of posthuman SF have enough widespread use at this point that we could categorize/list how Caprica draws from the posthuman archive.[2] Perhaps just such a list:

1)  Digital, simulated utopia/heaven.  Caprica projects the possibility for a space of limitless potential where immortality is a “reality.”  That this space is necessarily flawed is also part of the point.

2)  AI.  The emergence of AI, both in anthropomorphic terms and more machinic ones.  (This should probably be #1. . . .)

3)  Robots w/ guns.  Self-explanatory.

4)  Eerily contemporary in terms of dress/civilization, but of course aestheticized in some other historical time period, in this case the American 1950s.  The mobster stuff was cool, but difficult to care about other than its twist on Adama’s origin story, which, well, rests on the kid’s eye color.

5)  MMOs.

6)  Digital terrorists.

7)  A Media Mogul, in this case a protagonist.

8)  And though there are surely many others, the most important one for me: a sense of hyperarchival realism.[3]

Part of how I’m imagining hyperarchival realism as a project is that it not only attempts to underscore the posthumanity it is tropically imagining, but to do so in a fashion that shows a thorough fidelity to contemporaneity.  There is a seamless integration of technology and humans throughout Caprica (always of course blurring the distinction b/t the two), but, and this is the point, it achieves this integration mostly w/ technology we already have.[4] And the dominant technology is obviously information.

How information tech. plays in Caprica: Zoe, the AI “ghost” daughter of the Media Mogul father, has composed an informational-search-algorithm that convincingly passes the Turing test (in short), creating a digital “copy” of herself.  The original Zoe dies, the copy lives on (becoming a goddess in the virtual realm).  This copy of Zoe is achieved through pure information.  Original Zoe’s brain is not downloaded, inserted, copied, or in any other way invaded.  Copy Zoe emerges through a conglomeration of info.  In other words, she is a hyperarchival consciousness, emerging out of the gathering and interpretation of info.[5]

The major conflict of the show, esp. in terms of the historical and political past the BSG universe is trying to articulate, is finding and accessing this algorithm, this program, this info.  The Media Mogul father needs it to run his killer robots(/apps) more efficiently, and the terrorist monotheists need it to achieve what they call “Apotheosis”—which is a kind of digital rapture: you die in reality and then you immediately reappear as a copy of yourself in digital heaven—a landscape and program that is endlessly manipulable.[6]

And this is where the show I think really achieves something, it asks (and doesn’t answer the question), is this as good as a heaven we’ll ever get?  This space, the space of Apotheosis, is composed by the fringe monotheists in the polytheistic world of Caprica.  But the real question of the show should perhaps be, wouldn’t it precisely be the atheists who built such a place?  Those who didn’t participate in belief and faith, and just built an afterlife?  Would this not be better in some way?

The show says unequivocally no, but I think it does so for the wrong reasons.  Digital simulation is everywhere a part of the world of Caprica, something we never get a sense of in BSG.  The original was so steeped in a kind of posthuman steampunk (i.e. 1950s tech.), that to imagine a future world not more dominated by artificial landscapes seems slightly curious even these few years after BSG.

But what Caprica does do is ask the historically major metaphysical questions, and places them firmly upon a ground of information tech., upon the archive.  In this sense, in Caprica and other posthuman objects like it, metaphysics is now “archival metaphysics,” and this to me seems important, for though Caprica may not be doing anything terribly novel in the genre, b/c it is/was such a part of a major franchise, it is codifying the genre in a specific type of fashion, realizing that the old questions have to get asked all over again when the archive becomes a space in which to “live” an afterlife.  And really, hasn’t the archive always been such a place?


[1] Sorry, couldn’t find a link for this one.  He was the keynote speaker at the Science Fiction Research Association Conference in 2010, and delivered a talk called “Gained in Translation: Dispersed Narratives in Contemporary Culture,” where he outlined this term in great detail.  Perhaps the best example of what he is calling a dispersed narrative is Southland Tales, which tells its entire tale over a graphic novel and a film.  I’ve also thought that perhaps a better term for this would be “distributed narrative.”

[2] Of course I’m sure this has been done, and better than myself, but it should be noted that much of my thinking here is very larval at the moment.

[3] Note: I’m working on this term right now, so I do not quite have a coherent definition, but I am getting very close.

[4] This has been where William Gibson has been so strong as of late (w/ perhaps the exception of Zero History).  (Also, b/c I read it awhile ago and didn’t post anything, perhaps a lengthy archival quote chosen somewhat at random from ZH: “‘The holy grail of the surveillance industry is facial recognition.  Of course, they say it’s not.  It’s already here, to a degree.  Not operational.  Larval.  Can’t read you if you’re black, say, and might mistake you for me, but the hardware and software have potentials, awaiting later upgrade.  Though what you need to understand, to understand forgetting, is that nobody’s actually eyeballing much of what a given camera sees.  They’re digital, after all.  Stored data sits there, stored.  Not images, then, just ones and zeros.  Something happens that requires official scrutiny, the ones and zeros are converted to images.  But’—and he reached up to touch the edge of the bottom of the birdcage library—‘say there’s a gentleman’s agreement” [302] [Also, how cool would a bar called The Birdcage Library be?].)  (Also, it is not wholly the case that Caprica uses tech. we already have.)

[5] Also, Watson, the Jeopardy computer, is very scary w/r/t this.

[6] A minor plot question—if the tech. exists for this type of multiplicitous AI, why are there only 13 brands of human-looking Cylon in the original BSG?