PseudorealityPrevails

Surrealized: WWI Poetry Archive as immersive experience

Today I visited the WWI Poetry Digital Archive, in Second LIfe [SLURL].  The archive is hosted at the University of Oxford, but has been repurposed in Second Life with an encampment and trenches, featuring audio files of the poems, vintage photographs, scans of the poet's compositions in handwriting (including cross-outs and revisions), sentinels, and oral history about various aspects of trench warfare.  

Upon arrival you are given the option to be a nurse or a WWI soldier, I picked nurse.  After spending some time with the encampment and several poems, including one by Siegfried Sassoon, I proceeded to the trenches, where the transition from real to surreal, in history accomplished by simply walking or driving a few miles towards disaster, is here enabled by a personal balloon, which allows you an aerial view while the general perspective is explained.  The soundscape is impressive, distant shots and cries grow louder, you can see explosions, and as you land: rats scurry.

I spent a fair amount of time near Wilfred Owens' Dulce et decorum est which, combined with a soldier's reminiscences of his first experience with mustard gas, grounded the horror of the new technologies of death.  As I listened, around me swirled green mist in which words from both reality and poem mixed in a miasma of literalized metaphor.  Which, to many accounts, WWI was.

Entrenched, over the top, no man's land; an enhanced sense of irony, a suspicion of sentimentality, and an overrun of euphemism - in many ways, this conflict wrote the world we live in.  This installation well worth a visit, and just in time for Veteran's Day.

Second Life SLURL: http://slurl.com/secondlife/Frideswide/2

Oxford University site: http://www.oucs.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/

Yoko Ono's painting in light

Yoko Ono has created an installation of light, a skyscraper that is virtual in real life and real in Second Life. Called the Imagine Peace Tower, the grand opening is today in Reykjavik, Iceland (URL), and on this island in SL: Image Peace Tower Island (SLURL).  Opening event approximately 6:30pm EST, Friday, October 9, 2009. Happy Birthday, John.

Superstructing

I've been playing/reading superstructgame.org, Jane McGonigal's latest 'alternate reality' game.  The idea is that it's 2019, and major threats are destabilizing civilization (disease, refugees, political unrest, violence, environmental collapse) and their combined effect will result in the extinction of humans in 40 years.  Point of the game - figure out how to not go extinct, by coming up with ideas to fight these threats and build new sustainable infrastructures. 

This past week I realized the game ends Monday (it's only 6 weeks long), and I'd better start posting (I always think I have about twice the time I actually do, 6 weeks = 3 months in my mind).  So I created a blog with my futuristic ideas with pics and links, and also references to what existing structures might be extended into future-crisis-solving ones, and I was ready to start copying things into the text field forms that comprise half the game UI (the other half being endless scrolling lists) and start linking other superstruct ideas with each other to make mega-ones - when I paused.

World without bees.  World without oil.  World without humans.  World without - ideas?  Because Superstruct is nothing if not an idea aggregator.  The unbelievably lengthy pages and pages and pages of description and instructions full of new kewl buzzwords (mobbability!  stigmergy!  mesh2mesh identity!) seem a little too slick, predesigned to be conference-friendly, lacking only some concrete examples to undergird their lovely theoretical flow. 

There's basically no game UI.  Game instructions are way too lengthy, game-play itself just text-field forms, game-display is text-heavy narrow-width scrolling columns of text and links, game-function shows a lack of basic AJAX-y type features like a dynamic ratings system, Google map modal story mashups, integrated photo galleries.  These features, or lack thereof, combine to make the whole experience feel less like a game than a wiki. 

What there is, discoverable after considerable time spent wading through the text and posts, are some interesting ideas.  And some nice stories.  And a few photos and videos as well.  But it's not a game,it's an aggregator with a theme. 

And suddenly I became not that thrilled with the prospect of posting my ideas to an aggregator.  Because after the game is over, someone is going to aggregate them.  Someone is going to draw larger conclusions.  Someone is going to make predictions for the future.  And then someone is going to present this at conferences. 

And that someone is not going to be me. 

But then I thought - why not?  Maybe that someone could be me if I stopped giving my ideas away, stopped undervaluing them, and started packaging them.  With 10 years of design work under my belt, I think I could come up with a reasonable package.  So I decided not to post to the text field forms, after all. 

I suppose in a way this game has been a good experience for me!  Just not in the way the game designer intended.  But she has aggregated enough ideas that she should be able to come up with a new game, eventually.  Maybe Peter Gabriel can help.

Keepin' it Real?

Reuters reports that Facebook is terminating accounts with avatar names!!  "You can’t be on Facebook without being yourself," according to the Facebook COO [italics mine].

I'm almost tempted to sign up again.  Almost.

The Man in the Mirror Suit

I'm going to be casting a critical eye on the current state of machinema for this fall's OtherZine.  My initial motivation was to evaluate the process, it's DIY filmmaking taken to the next level.  Building a world is necessarily more open-ended, and involves more in terms of people and culture, than just building a set. 

As of a few months ago, the machinema I'd seen was only adequate or conventional, in terms of line quality (which has to be simple because complex line patterns would not stream well), shot composition, and of course narrative.  Short films everywhere, especially animations, are susceptible to the one-liner syndrome, where there is a big build-up to the single, often gothic, point.  Or on the other extreme, they are pretty and ambient with no narrative arc whatever.  I have no huge reason to suspect this has changed, although I'll be looking.

But what interests me more is the process.  Building a world for itself, not for the express purpose of making a film, and then eventually making a film within that world, seems to be not only about individual or group expression, but about this strange impulse we have to copy everything.  Our art so often involves duplicating aspects of our world: novels, realistic painting, photography, film, virtual worlds, video games.   But what if we could extend it even further, what then?  What if we could duplicate the world so perfectly that experiencing the latest artwork felt like - actually being there?  Would this be worth it?  Because, you know, we are already actually there.  What is the impulse for these ever more elaborate copies?  What do we get out of them? And where might they be leading?

Cave Animals

I visited the caves at Virtual Lascaux.  The textures are gorgeous and the cave is interestingly maze-like, using torches to hint at the direction.  It represented the chaotic, overlapping nature of the drawings well, but one thing it left out was the material imperfection. 

In the real caves, the artists used the imperfections in the rock surfaces to hint at the bodies of animals - a bulge might become a shoulder, a gash might be an antler, or even color variations might be used to suggest modeling and features.

In the virtual caves, it was not that I thought the virtual rocks were not bumpy enough.  It was more a question of what would imperfection be in this environment, and how could an artist use it to better effect?  I suspect the answer probably has nothing to do with virtual rocks.

"Dear John" letter to Facebook

Dear Facebook,

We need to talk.

I am breaking up with you.  Things just aren't working out.  I don't like who I am when I am with you; unfortunately, you bring out the worst in me.  You do have some good features, it's true.  But we are going in different directions. 

I could say that it's not you, it's me, but it is you, too.  You definitely have some problems, I hope you get some help.

I know breaking up by blog is lame, but I need to communicate with you in a way you understand.  I would say that I wish you the best, but I am not entirely sure that I do, so I will not say it. 

I took all my stuff back; I deleted your photos and erased all your messages.  Please do not try to contact me again. 

Sincerely,
My Avatar

The Red Men

In The Red Men by Matthew De Abaitua, a British company that creates custom avatars for the wealthy decides to create a custom town to study perfect marketing opportunities.  By interviewing the citizens of a real town in depth, and uploading all the data into the virtual world, the company hopes to virtualize not only the people themselves, but their behavior in large, complex and fluid social groupings.  Once the virtual town goes online, metrics gathered there will so closely mirror consumer interactions in the real world, that the data generated can be used to better sell: widgets, ideas, subscriptions, statis.

In the book, the project collapses in part due to the difficulty of interviewing and surveilling the citizens; it is too labor- and psychologically-intensive.  In RL, of course, we now do this better.  We outsource the data gathering to the objects of study themselves, and have them upload all their information themselves.  Facebook, Threadless, Second Life - all assign the content generation to the end user, which saves time and increases accuracy.  Plus, they want to: it's fun to make yourself Almost Famous for 15 minutes.

This is not necessarily a dystopian tendency, although it could be.  Outsourcing to the end user can be a bloodless way of describing a democratic approach to creativity, enabled by technology.  But it can also lead to a creative cul de sac where every action and hope is measured and met by someone selling you something somewhere.

Coke or Pepsi?

The bulk of this conference focuses on pre-built and pre-scripted virtual worlds.  The illusion of choice is presented by quantity; here are 19 different shirts for your avatar, here is a game where you collect virtual pets, here is a puzzle with 11 branching pathways. 

But not only is customization not true creativity, it actively diverts it, in the same way that junk food fills you up but provides no nutrients.  A type of choice is involved in selecting skin tones and hairstyles from a menu, but as a closed system it is not creative at all.  It is also perfect for the commodification of those impulses, as finite systems have closely defined elements that can be (and are) packaged and sold.  This environment of faux choice is further compounded by the fact that we live in a culture of commodification anyway, from objects to ideas, and so we're familiar with that context and easily fall into the usual behavior patterns. 

This qualitative difference, between customization and creativity, is where the tech can really be used for good or evil.

"Steppenwolf Presents:"

I, or, rather, "I," have two Facebook accounts, both as Second Life avatars.  One is my "real" avatar, the one I use for work, SL building and design, presentations, tutoring, etc.  The other is a "fake" avatar, a group account owned in triplicate by several of us on the project (but mainly inhabited by me) for the purposes of constructing a Cautionary Tale for today's digital generation of transparentists, so they can start to think about how posting the minutia of their social life online might adversely affect them later, in their job searches and workplaces.

I initially joined Facebook only for work, because we were evaluating new technologies such as social networking, and I needed to have some experience with the interface if I might be called upon to design or adapt one.  I used my avatar name and screenshot for the profile photo because I (as the "real" me) have a strong digital presence anyway; if you Google me my portfolio and my articles come up; I'm "found" often enough, I don't think I need to make it easier.  But as I use Facebook more, the account, safely behind the screen of the avatar, is becoming less formal and more playful, more like "me," I suppose, although not fully.  I added a little blogging app to post comments and thoughts on the digital landscape to my friends at work.

The second account profiles a different person, a late-20s extravert, partying her way through her MBA in Marketing.  She's posting all sorts of personal details and photos about her and her friends, adding cute little third-party apps like Beer Pong and Party Space, and generally acting her age.  Which is interesting because it's certainly not how I acted in my late 20s, as I was Very Serious back then, first about Saving the World, and then about Art.  I did have my share of exploits but unless I dig out my old diaries [shudder], the world is not going to know, or care.  Anyway, this second avatar is prettier, dresses much more provocatively, goes clubbing and to social events, and is definitely looking to be out there and connect.  All in Second Life, of course.  On Facebook she sends cute notes back and forth, posts photos, and has lots of digital "friends," because the more the merrier, right? 

So the other night I had to take the second avatar out clubbing to get more photos to post on her Facebook account.  Which entailed some shopping in SL, and then pulling myself away from the things I actually wanted to check out in-world (streaming folk performances, country singer-songwriters, various digital cafes), and over to dance clubs and meet 'n' greet spaces instead.  But while I was grabbing the screenshots I needed, what started to happen is that one avatar got jealous of the other.  And then vice versa. 

The first avatar wanted the cool outfits of the second one, and also the dance animations, so I had to log out and go back in as "me" and get them for her, I mean me, and then teleport to some of the party places so I could see and be seen there, just like the second one was.  Not that I talked to anyone either time, but still.  And now the first one wants to post the better snapshots to her profile, I mean my profile.  But even though I have a more relaxed attitude towards Facebook now, I am not sure exactly how much of "me" I really want up there. 

Then, the second avatar decided that she wanted to be taken seriously and wanted to start a blog and make insightful comments on her experiences like the first one does.  And she wanted to start messaging my friends, but as me, not as her!  So far I haven't let her do that, she has to message people as "her," and I won't let her do too much of that anyway, because they're my friends after all.

Neither of these avatars are fully formed aspects of my personality.  Both have significant false elements, and one would certainly need more than two avatars anyway if we're talking about all the facets of someone's personality, which in addition to being large and numerous, is fluid and not easy to stabilize within subsets of finite components.  Nevertheless, both avatars each have at least some aspects of "me," and some aspects of public faces I have presented at various times and in various places.  Not perhaps the most interesting aspects, but still, I can own up to the parts that are there.

So that's when I realized that I am actually the Steppenwolf (as are we all, according to Hesse).  And these avatars are at play in the Magic Theater, where we anthropomorphize our psychological contents, and externalize our personal fragments, to try out various scenarios as we act our way hopefully out of neurosis and towards health, ideally into the creative and progressive ferment that fully realized social entities can foment.  "Try out this social group, try acting this way."  "Nope, that didn't work, try again with a different approach, and in pursuit of a different goal."  We're doing this in our heads constantly, but we're manifesting and projecting the contents onto real Others and external RL situations, concurrently with the internal dramatic experiments.

And with Second Life being such an easy fit for an overactive introverted imagination, this tendency is augmented in the virtual space.  It is disconcerting and even a little destabilizing to see psychological fragments, part real, part fictional, literally running around in digital bodies in their own virtual worlds.  But, perhaps in this way they are made more overt and conscious.  Which, since conscious things lend themselves more readily to analysis, might be a good thing?

Or maybe I'll just close out all the accounts.