Topics, topics

I have a ton of ideas for the upcoming podcast assignment, but my "best three" are as follows:

1. A genuine moment of personal enlightenment occurred at the tailgate on Saturday; it led me to the idea of collecting a ton of people's best pterodactyl impressions, including one grad assistant's description of how to make them, and working them into a piece that explores how creature sounds are synthesized in films like Jurassic Park. (Yeah...I know).


2. I think just about everyone has a weird voice they do when they're talking to pets, making fun of a family member, or just trying to be goofy or creepy. I often wonder what the stories are behind these voices and how they have changed over time, and it's something that I could really only explore through an audio text. Also silly.


3. As Meg mentioned in her post, she and I have been talking about doing something related to scar stories. I think this would provide a good opportunity to exploit and explore Ira Glass' argument that everybody has a story, but not everybody has a story that will work in radio. I think this is the one I'd most like to go with.

Modal elements of This American Life

"#1: New Beginnings," 11/25/05
Added 9/28/08

Strangely, I didn't find it terribly evident that this was a "first shot" at This American Life, largely because it seems the show had a distinctive identity from the start. One thing I like about this program (though I've had limited experience listening to it) is that it's not really about the emcee; Ira Glass acts like a navigator, behaving the way an editor of an anthology behaves in introducing the featured stories and offering a small bit of commentary on them.

The use of music in the Kevin Kelly story represents what I like about this program; it's sometimes hard to tell whether it's supposed to be funny or melancholy. If it were just Kelly's voice, the story might seem more depressing; while I expected a kind of carpe diem story about skydiving and whatnot, Kelly's narrative struck a different chord. By anonymously giving away money, setting up a will, and so on, he really does act as if he were going to die in six months. The piece could have easily used a lot of strings and piano to underscore the story as a more emotionally driven piece, but the subtle blues riffs make it harder to react to the story in a particular way. The orchestral music that punctuates some segments of the piece lend a darker sense to the narrative, but it usually occurs at points when there is tension, not necessarily that contemplative sadness Kelly conveys in much of the story. The ending, though, hits that inspirational note by allowing stark silence to dominate as the author struggles to continue reading, repeating the same statement. Then, the music takes over again, putting us back into a more comfortable place.

I absolutely loved how the Lawrence Steger story made use of the whole recording process as the show itself; we hear Steger commenting, "Um, this isn't the right section of Blade Runner...can we just kill the Blade Runner?" and "The music is Strauss' four last songs...okay, can you take it under me? Hold...okay, can you take it out? Can you take out the Janet Baker?...Can we nix that Strauss music? It's kind of too mournful." (This particular commentary starts at around 39:00 if you want to find it in the podcast; it persists throughout the story, though.)


"20 Acts in 60 Minutes," 10/14/05
Added 9/28/08

The opening by Ira Glass gives a sense of speed and rushedness by combining fast-paced music with the rhythm of a typewriter in the background. In general, changes in music and in the voices you hear let you know that there is some kind of transition, either within a story or between two stories.

In the Tate Donovan piece, I first noted that the laughter of the interviewer in background lets us know she's there before she asks any questions; it also gives us a sense of where the story is going. We can't see his face, so we can't be entirely sure what it's indicating about his narrative. When he gets to the part with the kid with the camera, the music gives a sense of wacky foreboding and Tate's voice lowers to almost a whisper, becoming more monotonous. When he's "playing" himself, though, his tone varies wildly, giving a sense of enthusiasm and further wackiness. When he gets to the end of the story, the producer's "Ohhhh..." lets us know how we should react to that awkward moment Donovan describes; the background music also disappears at that moment.

The Susan Drury piece about the radio station in Tennessee gives a sense of nostalgia by using big band music in the background. The accents you hear in the excerpts from the Swap and Shop program give a better sense of location; the difference between these voices and the accent-free voice of the narrator lends distance between them and further permits us to view the radio show as being from another time and place.

What struck me about the piece from the inmates in the juvenile prison was how the head of the kitchen crew reacted to the questioning of the inmates. He seemed to get really angry at them for no reason, which upset me at first until I realized that he might have also been reacting to something nonverbal. There was also a lack of context for the man's reaction; the woman the inmates speak to reveals that the incident had resulted in a riot in the dining hall, which probably explains the man's anger.

The use of printer sounds and melancholy music was especially effective in the story about That Guy in the Office. The printer is very much the same in this story as it is in Matt's life and as Matt is in the lives of the people he works with: a constant presence that you'd never notice unless you were really looking for it.

Aurality and Multimodality

Websites are changeable, which means that when I wrote down the instructions for this assignment on Thursday, it was a 1-pg. response. Now, it's supposed to be short. So, I'll leave it as is, but here's a summary:

• The Selfe article helped me understand what we mean by "multimodality" a little better than the other readings we've done. You?


• Still digesting Tagg. Not sure I buy the whole music-as-conquest thing, though it does make some sense. There are loud people in Milton that have earned some aural conquest, which I deliver with headphones.


• The Mississauga sound map was pretty cool because it made ambient sound the focus, which makes it stop being "ambient"; it's kind of like the effect of listening to rain.


• Interspecies made me happy in entirely geeky ways. I think that paragraph's worth reading, so scroll on down.

As I read the Selfe article, the term multimodality suddenly started to make a lot more sense to me. Granted, it was reading the endnotes with the text that helped this along, but I’m starting to gain a better understanding of how to explain it and treat it in my writings. It also made me decide to modify my definition of New Media so I could make a distinction between it and multimedia. (I caved in and decided it has to be digital.)

I also appreciated Selfe’s historical approach. I think we often forget just how recently writing has become important to us and how quickly our field (meaning composition, communication, whatever) has developed. Why do we resist using video and audio in freshman composition when aurality is what Aristotle was talking about when he came up with ethos, logos, and pathos? However, we probably wouldn’t know what Aristotle said in the first place had no one privileged writing enough to commit it to print. Selfe seems to be somewhat critical of the fact that it requires writing to discuss aurality as a topic in composition, but the lack of hyperlinks to the audio content to which she refers in the text doesn’t really help any arguments for the alternative. Access!

I’m still digesting the Tagg piece; in terms of my experience, I guess his notion that we use music as a conquest of ambient noises makes sense. I know I wear my headphones in Milton a lot so I can drown out the distractions of other people talking. The terms he uses are pretty strong, though, and I’m not sure I entirely jive with this article.

For the listening exercise, I first chose the Mississauga Sound Map. What immediately struck me about the samples in this piece was that, for the first few samples, everything sounded like rain to me. Even when the sounds were those of a lot of people talking and shuffling around, the fact that I couldn’t make out what any one voice was saying made it easier for me to hear it as something else. Without a visual context for the sounds—which I tried to create by closing my eyes—it was harder to associate the sounds with what might have actually been happening when the sound was recorded.

I was also surprised by my tendency to get startled by sudden loud noises in the Missauga recording. Often, not knowing the origin of sounds I recognize as potentially dangerous made me nervous, such as the repeated knocking noise from the Lakeview Generating Station recording. The recordings with audible words had a much different feel to them; I paid far less attention to the background noise than to the person talking.

My second choice was the site Interspecies, which was incredibly cool (in a “Holy crap, talking whales!” way). The audio on the site was created by humans and whales interacting through sound, which sounds bogus, but is pretty fascinating. For example, in one recording, an orca responds to the sounds of a reggae guitarist, while keeping the beat of the music. Very strange. It’s especially interesting if you think about its relationship with the Tagg piece; is getting an orca to respond to an electric guitar a gesture of conquest?

Blogging and Civic Discourse

The Barton piece was actually the first blog-related reading of an “academic” type I’ve been able to get into this semester. I’ve been critical of pieces that treat potential as what’s going on; this seemed to have a more tentative tone about it and was more practically oriented toward what users can actually do with technology.

Barton’s treatment of access appealed to me in this reading; I flagged his statement that “the Internet’s ‘means of production,’ that is, the ability to create and manage web sites, is becoming ever more separated from the average user as powerful corporations find more ways to distinguish their web sites with expensive, high-end, proprietary technology like Macromedia Flash” (178-9). Aha! But blogs, wikis, and discussion boards are free to anyone with Internet access (which is a small portion of the world’s population) and the know-how to create or contribute to one (which is an even smaller portion). But within these small populations, how many could actually afford a program like Flash? At least these solutions offer some more options for participation. (As long as the blog doesn’t get shut down, which is what happened to the students using zblogger in the Wiltse article.)

As I read this piece, I asked myself whether we could really consider these tools to be “democratic.” After all, even Blogger has rules to maintain a certain level of civility in the content that appears in blogs, as well as terms that dictate the use of a blog. But I feel that these rules, much like rational-critical debate itself, are designed to protect Blogger’s readers and users, not to limit the perspectives that can be offered there—keep it legal, keep it just. I’m okay with having these rules in place; in order for rational-critical debate to take place, we have to be able to bracket beliefs that directly interfere with the rights of others.

But, just when you thought blogging was democratic, here comes Michael Barbaro with news of Wal-Mart feeding bloggers info to vouch for their interests. Wait a second, didn’t Blogger tell us not to do that in the terms of service? Not really. But they did tell us to acknowledge sources, which Pickrell did not do, which begs the question of whether we should consider bloggers to be journalists; if they are, they don’t have to reveal sources of information. (Are you confused yet? I know I am.)

The issue at hand is the one Jonas focuses on: transparency. But this issue goes beyond just being honest about information sources and whatnot. It also has to do with potential consequences related to disclosing information in a public forum. I’m inclined to agree with the author on this one; if you face personal risk by disclosing your identity along with sensitive information, why disclose it in a public medium like a blog? The problem with that, as the commenter “Tony” pointed out, is that “anonymity increases freedom.” Then again, does freedom that has to be anonymous really count as freedom?

…I’m not sure where I’m going from here. Thoughts?

Blogging, Changes, Communities, TMI, etc.

This post is very rambly because, as per usual, I’m still in the phase of making sense out of things. Here we go, kids...

I don't know how I feel about blogging as a genre, as a discourse community, as a blurring of the lines between public and private life, and so on. I'm not opposed to it being parallel to what people do in their everyday lives, from putting bumper stickers on their car to holding hands in a store to talking loudly in a coffee shop. I think people want it to be more political than that, but aren't some people's cars a lot more political than others?



Here’s an example (which I hope isn’t oversharing). As a grad assistant who is in a relationship with another grad assistant, I am continually conscious of the line between private and public life. What are the lines between acceptable behavior at school (which is a public space) and acceptable behavior at a restaurant, which is also a public space, but one not directly related to our work environment? When we go to social gatherings where we will see people from school, do we behave the way we would in Milton, or the way we would if we were with friends we know outside the department?

Now, I’ve made a decision here to choose to disclose my status as “in a relationship” and give some details about the nature of that relationship, but there is some information I’ve chosen to leave out; for example, I haven’t revealed a name or gender. Those of you who know me already know who the other person is, but those who don’t will either have to ask someone or offer a lucky guess to get the scoop.

It’s hard to say that a blog is a genre when almost everyone who starts one seems to start it for different reasons. They’re journalistic in the “news to someone” sense, and they’re private journals in another. The Miller and Shepherd piece suggests that blogging is a form of exhibitionist behavior. I’m not sure that’s the case, either.

I see a blog as another place where that line between public and private spheres needs to work itself out. There will always be someone who never talks about his or her spouse at work, and there will always be someone talking loudly in the coffeeshop about his or her latest digestive issues. The bottom line is, it’s a decision on the part of the author.

On the other hand, I liked Steven Johnson's analogy of a blog as a "kitchen cabinet," where users have started to catalog and organize all that nutty information out there. I was a little suspicious of the notions of a blog as journalism, as in ”Blogs in Plain English”; the argument "it's news to somebody" just doesn’t sit well with me as a form of journalism. It’s hard to say why, though. I thought for a minute that the analogy disagrees with Herring, et.al., but “partially interconnected” is still interconnected…isn’t it?

The only issue I see with Johnson's argument is this: Herring, et.al., noted that “blogs link preferentially to A-list blogs” (10), which suggests that they’re really only filtering stuff that is already well-read. And don't all those extra blogs people have sitting around just add to the clutter of information out there?
The Farrell piece hit on that blurred personal/professional line we’ve been talking about, and I think Farrell has a good point about using blogs as a kind of scholarly conversation. I haven’t used a blog in that way until we did so in this class, but I like it and think it could be extremely useful. However, as Herring, et.al., pointed out, that’s “the exception rather than the rule” (2).

So, back to the original question: in what ways is blogging changing and/or influencing (or not) our ways of communicating and creating/participating in community? It is giving us another forum in which to question the lines between private and public life, to challenge the ways we communicate with each other, and to open new lines between us and others. I think the real hangup in most of these readings centers upon questions about what this new medium creates opportunities for and what actually happens out there.

Conventional Blogging

I'm resisting the urge to call people "barking moonbats" now. Thanks, Blogging Glossary...

(Also, I haven't read Blogging for Dummies yet [the link is broken], so I'm flying by the seat of two readings here.)

Ahem.

Now, I will actually start this post.

So, "What do these readings suggest about the rhetorical conventions expected and/or accepted in the blogging discourse community"? I think what's interesting is the fact that there are conventions in a discourse community founded upon the notion of the Internet as a "free" environment. The blogging discourse community was intended to counter mass media, but there are still expectations we have to meet.

However, I do think it's important that, for example, bloggers expect each other to use proper spelling and grammar. It seems semi-oppressive, but really, if every blogger were to just go around blabbing words willy-nilly, the blogosphere will never really be taken seriously as an alternative to mass media (which is happening already).

In other words, it suggests that rhetorical conventions are, in fact, a necessary part of every discourse community, even those that pride themselves on valuing individuality. However, the Blogging Glossary suggests that blogging is an environment where open mocking of authors is acceptable and, in fact, facilitated by the technology. I enjoy that aspect of the blogging community, actually, so my objection just fell flat. (Can mocking be a rhetorical convention?)

One aspect I found interested about the "Blogging for Dummies" reading was its tendency to go beyond simple rhetorical convention and address complex issues of ethics and morals in blogging. Citing sources is an issue even in cyberspace, it seems. Is it still cool to say "cyberspace"? Quick, somebody mock me!

The issues of ownership got me thinking, as did the conventions Hill describes in creating an "editing trail" for blog posts. Part of the beauty of blogs is that you can go back and change whatever you said, but the fact that you'll be expected to let people know what you changed and when makes it a little more complex. What do you guys think?

New Media: A Flimsy Definition

New Media (always/sometimes)...

• Integrates multiple media forms (such as print and image or audio and video) to create representations.


• Incorporates existing media objects into a new, digitally constructed object that means something different than the original object(s).


• Allows the user/reader to partially construct its meaning through interactive features.

Update, 9/8/08: Lots of discussion happening on the comments for this post, plus some of my own explanation behind this definition. Enjoy.

Multimedia, Digital Media, New Media: Definitions

Well, folks, here’s the problem with blogging about readings: if you start writing after the first reading, you run the risk of writing too much about that one and not having enough space to write about the others. Sigh...

In terms of my own work as an instructor, I’m intrigued by Lovett, et.al.’s statement that “Writing with Video is pedagogy as intervention, expanding the analytical to include the participatory…[it] intervenes in pervasive forces of representations and instills in students, as cultural producers, a capacity to listen to the voices that have been systematically silenced” (14). While Writing with Video (the course the authors describe) is an upper-division class, it’s possible that lower-division students could benefit greatly from a pedagogy that embraces this perspective.

As a composition instructor, I’ve only occasionally allowed students to deviate from the conventions of a particular genre. For example, a Native American student in my course wrote an excellent documented argument on alcoholism among Natives, using her own experiences as primary research. Still, few students step up and attempt to use their experiences as evidence; here in Academiaville, we tend to frown on that kind of thing anyway. The examples of student work the authors describe here illustrate an opportunity to more openly voice their views and embrace their experiences, instead of stifling these experiences by forcing them into a particular mold early in their college education. In other words, maybe we should be having students produce arguments in multiple media forms to help them better understand their own perspectives.

Kress and van Leeuwen discuss this issue of transerence across modes in the introduction to Multimodal Discourse; they argue that design and production should be unified; when they separate, “design becomes a means for controlling the actions of others,” thus limiting the agency of the creator (7). The Writing with Video course illustrated a scenario where design and production were one in the same; for example, one student described his process of creating his video as follows: “Working with the idea of reflections being a type of portrait, the focus of my shots became capturing actual portraits of people that interacted with the reflections on the floors… I sifted through almost twenty different shots, all over five minutes in length, trying to find these really true moments of portraiture and reflection. I was challenged to cut down these lengthy shots into a cohesive one-minute piece that could best describe my motif” (Lovett, et. al., 6-7). His “design” had less to do with translating his ideas to the screen and more to do with using the material he had to create the video. He was essentially designing and producing at the same time.

I see great potential in the approach of allowing students to use multiple modes to compose a message. However, the issue of access would be very problematic in a freshman course, especially one with 27 students. The authors are open about the fact that interdisciplinary, interdepartmental, and administrative collaboration and cooperation are crucial in creating courses that utilize New Media. I’m planning to stay in New Mexico in the long run, and it’s hard for me to imagine this kind of course getting the go-ahead here (where I had to fill out paperwork to get a dry-erase marker in my classroom. Well, actually, I refused to fill out the paperwork, but they tried). So, at least for the moment, I’ll have to find smaller ways to incorporate new media into my classroom and pedagogical work.

~Jen