Professor O’Malley pointed out something today in class that really resonates – that we have “an obligation to weigh and measure information.” He pointed out that history books used in schools are written by a group of people about whom we know nothing. Everything written (or spoken) has some kind of bias, even if it’s unintentional. Every human has their own unique mindset, built upon experiences in life, and even when we are fed the same information we have our own way of shaping and processing that information. Not only do we need to sort out others’ biases, but we also need to be careful of our own. Thinking about the history books made me think of Miller’s description of the evolution of the American Folklore Society, and how the folklorists didn’t portray an accurate picture of what Southern folks were really about – instead they molded what they found into their own preconceived notions of what Southern folklore (in their minds) must be about. I find this particular example so sad, especially the idea of dressing Muddy Waters up in overalls and having him in bare feet. Not only was this an inaccurate depiction, it was also very disrespectful. Unfortunately, that was the way much of society viewed Southern folks, especially African Americans back then. Even though we currently still have societal issues between Whites and African Americans, at least there has been a great deal of (painful) progress.

Back to the idea of having to weigh and measure information – once you start to think about this, you see all kinds of examples (which is a good thing for the sake of awareness). The photo manipulation during the Civil War that Professor O’Malley spoke about in class makes me wonder just how often throughout history that kind of thing went on. I suspect it was a common occurrence. It’s appalling that photographers would deliberately heighten the impact of their photos by moving bodies around, or piling them together just for the sake of drama. This is bad journalism, but it seems as though the desire for more attention and more money is too often at work. I’m studying Celtic Art, and bias is a definite issue, because the Celts did not keep written records themselves until the Christian Era began, and we have to rely on reports from the Romans, among others. The Romans, including Julius Caesar, in some cases seemed to be recording solidly accurate information, such as in what they looked like and what they wore. But there were obvious biases as well, for example in describing them as total barbarians, which was not the case.

People need to be aware of biases and manipulation. In addition to Miller’s examples in Segregating Sound, Carr goes into this issue in The Shallows, pointing out all the free access to tremendous amounts of information that people now have. This is probably the biggest challenge yet in attempting to weed out inaccurate information, not only because of the amount of data, but also because of the skill with which it can be manipulated. Information can easily be made to appear authentic by sneaking it into an academic or scientific format, or citing fake or weak credentials. It’s mind-boggling how many ways there are to disguise misinformation. One more thought about photo manipulation – these days it goes way beyond moving bodies around to make the aftermath of a battle look more dramatic and gruesome. With tools such as Photo Shop, photos can be endlessly manipulated. How can we possibly stay on top of that? It’s pretty frightening!

Miller’s book Segregating Sound and our class lectures have provided so many different themes and sub-themes that my brain is swirling. The main theme in Segregating Sound is the musical “color line” that evolved in the South during the 1880s to 1920s (and beyond), that grew out of segregation, the establishment of the American Folklore Society, and the invention of the Talking Machine by Edison. Each of these areas leads to many sub-themes (folklorists, authenticity, isolation, white people’s motivations in performing in minstrel shows, and many others) and questions. For example, why did it take so long for the music industry to look at the South as a market for music, when they were able to successfully create numerous international markets? Why did the American Folklore Society promote themselves as a “scientific authority” when they were fitting the information that they gathered into their own preconceived mold? What weird impulses led to minstrel shows and boundary transgression? But there is one sub-theme that I really wanted to address, which is the fascinating concept of displacement in time and space. We encountered this idea in Carr’s book The Shallows, when he was discussing inventions that changed the way humans think, such as maps, books, and mechanical clocks. These were more than conveniences for people – they actually changed the way people thought, and the way they viewed the world. Carr’s analysis of how the Internet is affecting the human brain is another indication of displacement in space and time for people, a dramatic shift in how people process information. Miller’s book has many examples of less comfortable sorts of displacement. Segregation had a huge impact on African-Americans, so much so that many of them found life intolerable in the South, which led to the Great Migration of the early 1900’s. Many went north, others became traveling musicians to escape the Jim Crow South, with its forms of oppression such as the “imprisonment” some sharecroppers experienced on the plantations, and the horrors of the “spectacle” lynchings. This is a physical and mental displacement, and while it led to success for some, it must have been a terrible ordeal for others in many ways. Leaving the rural South and migrating to a big city with completely different customs and a totally foreign atmosphere would be very disorienting. Like the ones mentioned in Carr’s book, advances in technology during this time would also cause a sense of displacement. Time zones, the telegraph, the railroad, the talking machine, the industrial development of southern rural areas (such as in the mountains), and the ability to order items by  mail are just a few examples of the huge shift people of the South were experiencing in the late 1800s and early 1900s. In addition, folklorists who collected songs in the interest of recording them for posterity descended on the South, yet they mostly manipulated what they found to fit their own ideal picture of folklore. For example, John Lomax portrayed Muddy Waters as “unclean” and primitive, and he insisted that Ledbetter be photographed in overalls and bare feet, instead of a suit, which is what he wanted to wear. This insistence on publicly portraying a stereotype instead of reality must have been frustratingly disorienting. Lastly, this displacement extends to music, in the displacement of the beat found in various forms such as early jazz, reggae, and swing. This was a deliberate displacement that came out of experimenting with music to create a new kind of expression. This is such a complicated topic, as are all of the themes found in Miller’s book, but they are ones that are worth exploring. Miller’s book provided a tremendously eye-opening look at an era that was far more complex than most people would think.

I found Muddy Waters so intriguing in our class lecture that I had to look up more about him. When he was a young man, living and working on Stovall Plantation, there were a number of folklorists who were traveling through the South collecting folk songs. As Miller pointed out in his book Segregating Sound, many folk songs were connected to labor, such as railroad workers and miners. But for others, such as Muddy Waters, music was an escape from the drudgery of working. Poor Muddy hated farming, and he finally “escaped” from life at Stovall to pursue his career as a blues musician. I listened to some of his recordings, and compared earlier and later versions of two of them. The first was I Be’s Troubled, which is the one we listened to in class. I wanted to hear it again, and then compare it to a later version of the same song performed by Muddy. The early one showed a picture of a young Muddy sitting on a porch with his guitar. He has a “closed in” expression, and looks wary as he is approached by Alan Lomax, who was collecting folk songs. In this early version of the song, Muddy’s voice sounds a little hesitant and serious. You can sense tension in it, and it’s somewhat subdued, as though he was singing to himself. Even his guitar playing sounded subdued. At this time he must have really been searching for where he was going with his music in a crazy Jim Crow south. In the later (1976) version, Muddy sounded more confident, polished, and “solid,” There is more bounce and freedom to the playing and the singing, and more elaboration on the guitar. He seems to know what he’s about now.

Next I listened to an early version of Baby Please Don’t Go, another great song of his. In this version, he has several band members playing with him, and the playing is slower, less bouncy, more laid-back (or perhaps more tentative?). Then I watched a very fun later version, in which he brings Mick Jagger and Keith Richards on stage with him to join in on Baby Please Don’t Go. There is such a sense of comfort and belonging and comraderie between these musicians. Muddy seems to be where he was going with his music. His voice is smooth and polished, and the playing is more energetic. The whole performance was so authentic and you wanted it to go on and on. What a fascinating thing it is to be able to listen to the early and later versions of songs, and see and hear the progression and development in Muddy’s sound.

Today’s class was extremely interesting. People hardly ever think about the enormous impact of technologies of the past, and the extent to which they changed not only people’s lives, but also how they viewed the world. For example, it’s hard for us now to imagine what the world was like before electricity or telephones. We never had to do without them, although we do get a glimpse into that world when there is a power outage. But that’s different too – for us, it’s a temporary halt in the flow of electricity. We know what electricity does in our lives, we’re familiar with it, we depend on it. Before it was discovered and packaged for homes, businesses, everywhere, people couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have it. To them it was the most natural thing in the world to use candles or gaslight, and to live with the dark in a way in which we never have to. Professor O’Malley described the “displacement in space and time” that people experienced when new technology like this was implemented. How disorienting each new technology must have been, even if it improved their lives!

The internet is a modern-day “displacing” technology. Just framing it in our minds in a way we could understand was an enormous challenge – at least for non-techies. And then there was the learning curve. And now it seems like a tremendous information overload. We can access just about any information we want or need. It’s almost instant. Is the instant access to so much information from all over the world really a good thing? In many ways it is, but we also have to get used to that displacement in time and space. We have to get used to experiencing what someone else is experiencing because we can see things happening in real-time, or nearly real-time. It has an incredible impact on people – not only do we have to handle the emotions of our own situations (good or bad), but we also have to take on the immediacy of being exposed to other people’s situations (good or bad). This can be extremely overwhelming and disorienting.

Another aspect of this displacement in time and space is that there is so much information being thrown around that people don’t always know what information they can trust. There is a huge amount of misinformation out there, and we can’t always tell what is accurate. For example, if someone tweets out a message that contains wrong information, and then that message gets retweeted by that twitter account’s followers, and then their followers retweet, suddenly there can be thousands of people receiving wrong information without necessarily knowing it. And websites can be just about as misleading as they want to be. Along with all the wonderful benefits of the internet comes the responsibility of trying to discern good information from bad.

As was discussed in class, this displacement in time and space happens in so many areas, such as movies. The Saving Private Ryan example showed the disconcerting effect of being an omniscient observer, seeing the action from impossible points of view. I think we’ve been exposed to this for so long that it’s natural for us. However, I still vividly remember (and always will) the shocking effect that the movie Das Boot had on me (and I presume many others). I realize now that what I was feeling was a disturbing, almost cruel displacement. All through the movie we are “living” with a German U-boat crew as though we were one of them, getting to know them as real people, and becoming attached to them. The last scene, where the US swoops in to bomb them as they are getting off the docked U-boat, was like a huge slap in the face or punch in the stomach. I found myself shouting (internally) No! No! Don’t bomb them! The movie had done such a thorough job of displacement that the roles were completely reversed in the viewer’s mind. Suddenly the US military had become the bad guys. I got the point – they’re all real people in a war, and each side believes in its cause. But I still can’t help feeling rather resentful at being so shockingly manipulated, without even realizing it until after the big punch at the end. It felt like a betrayal. I’m extremely glad that we learned about this in class, because now I will be more aware of how the viewer is being controlled.

When Professor O’Malley started the class by pointing out right up front that minstrel shows were “weird” I had no idea of just how weird and creepy that episode in human history really was. I knew a little about minstrel shows, and the book Segregation of Sound goes into the genre pretty extensively. But as we tried to untangle the whole concept during class, it just got more and more strange, and harder and harder to understand. It completed pervaded our culture for a long time, even down to cartoon characters such as Mickey Mouse, as Professor O’Malley pointed out. I’m an old movie buff, and when I think about some of the old movies, I see more clearly how certain black characters were portrayed just as whites portrayed them in minstrel shows. All these black characters were missing was the exaggerated “black face” with the huge mouth. The way these characters talked and moved, their exaggerated expressions, the way they were treated by white people, it’s all the same thing. I’ve always cringed during these scenes. I think this is the same reaction Professor O’Malley was talking about when he described it as being “queasy” even while laughing. And, as Professor O’Malley also pointed out, this kind of uncomfortable humor still goes on (his example was a Dave Chappelle skit). The question was brought up about whether 50 Cent’s tough guy persona was a form of black face. That’s an interesting point – I can see how the term “black face” could have become a way of describing any kind of black stereotype. I can’t help wondering how African Americans view this. Do they think that a tough-guy persona equates to those “black-face” minstrel shows, and is perpetuating stereotypes of African Americans? These are very strange human phenomena, ones that have deep psychological implications. It’s also very disturbing!

When my kids were little, computers were just being brought into schools. Their elementary school had a little computer lab, and I was a volunteer in that lab. All the kids took right to the technology (probably faster than I did), but my favorites were the kindergartners. These wonderful new little brains were so ready to soak up all things computer – it amazed me. And these were old DOS-based computers! Now, of course, computers are an integral part of school curricula, tremendously expanding the kids’ experiences – they can go anywhere in the world through computers, and do all kinds of tasks, including learning some basic programming at such a young age. After reading Carr’s book, I can’t help wondering what the impact of their almost constant use of the internet will be on the intelligence of our country, or even of the world. We talked a lot in class about Carr’s assertion that our brains are being rewired once again. Humans were originally wired to be easily distracted. This was a matter of self-preservation – they had to be able to stay aware of everything going on around them to avoid being attacked by wild animals, or even other humans. Over time, of course, with the rise of civilization, humans didn’t have to worry so much about being killed. Then with the invention of writing, and then of books, the printing press, humans eventually could stay focused on one task, such as reading, which caused our brains to be rewired, and not be as easily distracted. But now, according to Carr, our time spent on the Internet has taught us to once again be constantly distracted – jumping here and there through hypertext – and making it hard to focus on a task. We’re becoming restless, unable to concentrate long enough to even enjoy a good book. I don’t know if I totally agree with Carr, but it has made me wonder about what this means for the future if he is right. Will this change our actual intelligence? (Whatever that is.) Will we lose our ability to figure things out for ourselves, since we can depend on computers to do it for us? And will civilization start to unravel because of this? As in my last post, I keep wondering if machines will somehow take on intelligence as ours declines, and what would that mean for us? Can the Internet itself become intelligent, and because of its distributed framework, could it become so intelligent that it could take control, and take precautions from being turned off? When looking to the future, this can become quite frightening to contemplate.

Today’s class continued the challenge of figuring out what intelligence is and whether machines can be intelligent. Turing had an interesting view – that if he can’t see whether what’s on the other side of the wall is a human or a machine, he has to assume that it’s intelligent. Searle also had an interesting view – to be intelligent you have to have intentionality. But what exactly does that mean? Doesn’t the machine have the intentionality of carrying out the functions that have been requested of it? We think of a machine as something we program to do certain things, but can’t humans be looked at in the same way? We put information into a machine and get something out of it, depending on what we have requested and what it has been programmed to do. Humans put information into their brains and generate output too, depending on what they want to do with it. And I guess therein lies at least one difference – humans can choose what they want to do with it. They can work with the information in many different ways. But machines could too if they were given the capability. I feel like I’m going round and round with this. We’re trying so hard to discover what intelligence really is and how the human brain works. My husband posed an interesting question – if we somehow created a machine that was able to figure out how the human brain works, would it tell us? Or would it have so much intelligence and intentionality itself that it would control the information? (Sounds like a movie-in-the-making.)

Okay, so back to intentionality. Is that a sign of intelligence? We normally wouldn’t say a tree is intelligent. But doesn’t it have intentionality to survive? What about self-preservation? Would that be part of our definition of intelligence? All living things have some kind of built-in instinct for self-preservation – can we count that as a form of intelligence? And what if machines developed some kind of self-preservation mode like HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey, as Carr points out. If we ever let technology get ahead of us, we could end up in a machine-controlled world. I know this is not original thinking, but our class discussions lead the mind in many directions, and this was one of them for me. To take it further, we now have technology for creating computer-generated characters that seem incredibly lifelike. I believe some of these are registered with the Screen Actors Guild, which seems bizarre. But as we make these characters more and more real, at what point can we consider them intelligent entities or beings? The fact that they are considered real enough to be required to register with SAG indicates that they are already considered intelligent beings. Right now they have real actors providing their voices, but will we ever computer-generate unique voices that become part of their character? We are certain to become attached to these characters – well, we’re already attached to cartoon characters like Bugs Bunny. This is along the lines of how we get attached to computers like ELIZA and WATSON. If somebody pulled WATSON’s plug, I know I would feel bad, like a living thing had died.

There was an excellent Twilight Zone episode in which a man who had been convicted of a crime had been sentenced to spend his life on a remote planet far from earth. A sympathetic captain of a supply ship brought him a robot in the form of a woman. At first the man, Corey, rejected the female robot, Alicia. But over the months he began to treasure his companion, and fell in love with her. She had been made to be so human-like, with all the feelings, emotions, and senses experienced by humans, that there was no distinction between her and a real human. Then Corey was pardoned and was to be taken back to earth, but there was no room on the ship for Alicia. The captain could not persuade Corey to leave her, so he ended up shooting her in the face to remind Corey that she was a robot. This came as a shock to the viewer, because we all got attached to her just as Corey did. And since she actually experienced human emotion, can we say she wasn’t real? Distinctions between humans and machines are certain to become more and more fuzzy as we develop more realistic computers, computer-generated characters, and robots in the future.

Professor O’Malley said something at the end of our September 12 class that really stayed with me. He had just introduced us to the workings of the 1950’s, with the Cold War as the backdrop. Spurred on by the tension and danger between the US and the Soviet Union, the US now had a permanent standing army and lots of new technology. It’s not the kind of technology kids grow up with now, which is all based on digital computers. This was the “old-fashioned” technology that started it all – and it was all analog, mechanical, based on gears and cogs. Professor O’Malley said it was like a “lost world” – and oh how right he is! Today’s lecture included the origin of “hypertext” as well as thermionic (vacuum) tubes, electricity, and the Audion. Does anybody else feel sad about this lost world? And where is that sadness coming from? We have wonderful technology now – cell phones, Kindles, laptops, on and on. So why is there a longing for the “old days”? I’m caught between two times- the pre-digital era and the post-digital era. I grew up in an analog world. My dad was an electrical engineer who worked on analog projects in his younger days, then later had to move to the digital stuff, along with everyone else. So he was caught between worlds as well, but he adapted, but I believe I remember him talking about preferring the old analog projects he worked on. Compared to now, my life growing up seemed so much easier. I knew how to roll down a car window rather than searching for the right button in my fully-computerized car (among WAY too many buttons!); it was so easy to look up books in the card catalog at the library – I know that sounds contradictory, but somehow it’s true; phone numbers were 7 digits – you only had to use an area code if calling long distance; there were only a few TV channels – not as many shows to watch but there wasn’t the constant overload of trying to figure out what to watch. The examples can go on and on. Don’t get me wrong – I truly do appreciate what we have now. Here I am typing away on my beloved PC, with my cell phone, iPAD, and Kindle not far away from me. Yet I periodically find myself longing for the simpler days. Can we ever go back? I don’t think so, unless the world got wiped out by nuclear war and we somehow survived and started over. But even then, we would still have the memory and knowledge of the digital world, and that’s what we would rebuild. Carr was right that we are losing something precious in our ability to immerse ourselves in deep reading of books, and have our brains hang on to its original wiring so that we can think deeply and contemplate. Vannevar Bush’s extraordinary imagination and brilliance have enabled us to have so many inventions that have provided protection and convenience in our lives, so he was right as well. I know it might be a losing battle, but I for one am going to cling to the simple days in whatever little ways that I can – turn  off my electronic devices sometimes and lose myself in a good book for a while. (Then I’ll be back checking my email.)

What a fascinating discussion we had in class about Realism and Idealism! Most likely, not many people have thought very much about whether they are Idealists or Realists, and it’s not something they necessarily have to figure out. However, it can be an eye-opening, self-revealing exercise, and it never hurts to have a deeper level of understanding about one’s self. This is the kind of thing that can seem to have some overlap, and we might feel differently about it during different phases of our lives. The gist that I got from our lecture was that Idealists are deeply moved to the soul by things like art and music, and are spiritual or religious by nature. They feel there is an ideal form of everything, a perfect form, and we humans are nowhere close to it – we’re just a “dim copy” of it. A well-lived life means striving to become as close to the ideal as possible. Realists, on the other hand, take the world as it is, without believing there is something better to model it on. Realists tend to be skeptical and non-religious. All of this really set me to thinking about the deeper meaning. I am not a terribly religious person – or am I? I don’t know anymore. I’ve always struggled with a feeling that religion was for those who needed some kind of explanation for understanding the world, the universe, and our place in it, and so they created mythologies, which formed religions. I grew up in the Episcopal church, and it’s hard to not feel influenced by that. But I’ve never felt that close to the church. On the other hand, I am tremendously and deeply moved by so many things. When I was eight years old, I told my mother that Beethoven’s 9th Symphony “hurt my heart.” I’ve always loved music, but I can’t always listen to it because the emotions it sometimes evokes are too overwhelming. As with music, there are certain artworks that move me to tears because I feel lifted up to some kind of higher level – I guess this is the “glimpsing of the divine” that Professor O’Malley talked about in his lecture. It fills me right through my soul with the most uplifting feeling I’ve ever known. I always thought I was just overly-sensitive and overly-emotional. But – and this is something I NEVER would have thought of myself – I am coming to the conclusion that I am an Idealist. I’m not sure what this will mean in my life – but it feels good to have another little piece of knowledge about myself. And here I’m going to sound like an Idealist – it would probably benefit many people to think about this. Isn’t it important to try to understand ourselves and those around us to be able to live in this world together and make it a better place? Oh, yup – there’s that Idealist penchant for striving for things to be better. But that can’t be all there is to it, because part of me is cynical and skeptical. Is this just a learned defense mechanism against all of the stuff that seems to be out of control, like politics and terrorism and senseless wars? I believe in a strong military and defense system because I believe we have to be prepared for whatever the madness of the world throws at us. And I truly believe the world will never be rid of warped humans like terrorists and dictators, and we have to be able to cope with eventual fallout from situations they create. But I wish the human race could see how senseless all this is. One of the reasons I liked the TV show Star Trek: Next Generation was because humans had evolved to a level where they were beyond their petty differences and worked together (for the most part). There was one absolutely fascinating episode that probably speaks to my ideals more than most things – one of the characters was a Messianic type of person (in the best way – kind, wise, charismatic, spreading hope) who was undergoing some kind of physical changes. It turned out that he was one of the first humans undergoing a metamorphasis into a higher level of existence, a path that humans could aspire to take. Thinking beyond that episode, I wonder how many humans could manage to achieve that metamorphasis? Is it strange to feel mixed up about idealism and realism and wonder whether aspects of both can exist in one person? My skepticism about humans in general is mixed in with that belief that we can do so much better. Wouldn’t it be heavenly (to borrow another Idealistic concept) to become a whole new kind of being that is beyond human pettiness and ignorance? An Idealist can always hope…

Our Sept. 7 class discussion was very thought-provoking. We used Nicholas Carr’s book The Shallows as a discussion springboard, and to be honest, I’m still struggling with some of the ideas that were raised. The concept of a private self and public self was brought to the forefront of society around the time of the American Revolution, when indentured servitude was made illegal, and it was also a key player in ending slavery, because it was finally legally recognized that there is a person with rights, a self, that exists outside of the “marketplace.” I think what I’m struggling with is my concept of the private self. To me, this means you with your thoughts and feelings and perceptions and likes and dislikes and fears and joys and moods and experiences – and how these all blend together into the essence of what you are. You know yourself in your own mind as nobody else ever can know you – to me that is the private self. But is your private self really your private self when you are at home with your family or friends, or anywhere that is not out in the public eye? You behave in certain ways even with those to whom you are closest and most private. I’m probably confusing myself more than necessary with this. But it seems to me that the “private self” and the “public self” are two extremes, and we have all kinds of other selves in between. One of Carr’s points was that we might be losing control over our private selves because of the way the Internet is “rewiring” our brains, and taking control of such a huge part of our lives. When I first read the book, I felt he was making a good case. But the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t quite buy his arguments, at least about losing the distinction between our public and private selves. Sure, we lose privacy, but I’m not sure that will cause us to lose our ability to maintain a disciplined public self. As Professor O’Malley pointed out, our society is based on the ability to separate our public from our private selves. I can’t quite envision the collapse of society over this. Or maybe I just don’t want to believe it – the idea of everyone being their private self in public is pretty frightening. In any case, it was a fascinating topic to discuss, and I’ll be continuing to ponder it.