A series ofv Comments about


Art and Technology,





2009-2012

Andrew D. Todd

 a_d_todd@rowboats-sd-ca.com 

http://rowboats-sd-ca.com/

Comments on the following works:

Thomas Doherty, "The Last Bow for 35mm Film,"

Bruce Chadwick, "'Elementary': Sherlock Holmes Is Back in a Big Way"
 

Cosma Rohilla Shalizi, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction"

 John Willingham, "Historical Fiction and the ‘Gaps’ in Academic History"

Sage Ross, The Two Cultures, 50 years later


Response,by e-mail, to: Thomas Doherty, "The Last Bow for 35mm Film," History News Network, 2-20-12

The following links are no longer functional:

http://hnn.us/articles/last-bow-35mm-film

https://www.brandeis.edu/facultyguide/person.html?emplid=0adcef42793cb212c9d013f9b84de92bfbcf6972&_gl=1*s0umtl*_ga*MTY3NzM4Njc0My4xNjkwMDg1NTQ5*_ga_MFGTX36NQY*MTY5MDA4NTU0OS4xLjEuMTY5MDA4NTU2OS40MC4wLjA.

https://blogs.brandeis.edu/socialsciences/2012/03/01/the-last-bow-for-35mm-film/


Professor Doherty has been so kind as to furnish me with a copy of the draft he submitted to HNN, preserved in his e-mail files, but I do not have reprint permission, so I must present a summary.


Doherty's argument is basically about the "Physicality" of 35-mm film, in the sense of holding up lengths of film in one's hands and looking at the frames. This is "framed" in reviews of two recent nostalgic movies, in which characters interact with physical film. I think I would make a distinction between physicality and malleability. A well-equipped personal computer is furnished with video editing software, and can readily create derivative works of one kind or another.
----------------------------
02/25/2012 06:23 AM

To: Thomas Doherty <doherty@brandeis.edu>

RE: The Last Bow for 35mm Film, History News Network, 2-20-12


Sir:

Digital movie projectors are simply the tip of the iceberg. What is happening to the movie industry is much more  pervasive, a wholesale technological transformation, based on the computer. Processing moving pictures digitally requires a very great amount of computer horsepower, so the change has taken longer than comparable changes in print publishing, but the basic process is much the same.  There are of course digital cameras and editing equipment, but probably the most significant element has been the introduction of animation and video-game technology into movie-making.

This process involves the shipping of large  quantities of craft labor to India, but it also involves rethinking the basic idea of a lushly produced movie.

            Andrew D. Todd
            1249 Pineview Dr., Apt 4
            Morgantown, WV 26505


http://rowboats-sd-ca.com/

Here are a series of blog comments on Techdirt.com, summing up my position:
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Movies as Nineteenth-Century Paintings.

It may be that Hollywood is technologically obsolete at a certain level, at the level of _Apocalypse Now_, that the idea of expensively re-enacting the past in maximum possible detail, in order to  film it is obsolete. I should like to construct an analogy of the visual image.

In 1815, the year of Waterloo, there were no cameras. The collective sense of what the battle looked like was formed by paintings, done many years after the fact. Producing such a painting involved getting people to pose for each figure, etc. In its essentials, it was  rather like movie-making. One of the more successful painters was the wife of a colonel, who was in a position to borrow her  husband's troops for a re-enactment. Still, it has been pointed out that the "factual" content of the images is often impossibly wrong. Things simply couldn't have happened that way. However, people related to the  picture as if it were the truth.

The painting of recent battles was a special case of history painting. In the late eighteenth century and the nineteenth century, each country asserted its national identity by commissioning large and elaborate paintings of significant episodes in its historical past. The artists went to great deal of trouble to research all the different elements, making sure that the characters wore the right kind of clothes, etc. When the painting was finished, another artist would engrave an adaptation on a copper printing plate, taking account of  the differences between the two media, and the plate would be used to produce paper prints which would be sold in quantity.

However, these pictures were inauthentic in one big sense. They were images of things which, at the time  they happened, were not considered worth recording, because the collective mindset was different. Sometimes, the incidents were themselves fictional, invented a couple of hundred years after the fact-- or five hundred, or a thousand, or two thousand. The Victorians were effectively imposing their own values on the past.  For a time, they were able to fool themselves by collecting period detail.

In 1863, the year of Gettysburg, photography existed, but the  paraphernalia necessary to take pictures filled a whole wagon. Photographers like Mathew Brady drove over the  battlefields when it was all over, setting up their big tripod cameras, and taking pictures of the aftermath, and taking the wet glass photographic plates directly into the darkrooms built into their wagons to process them on the spot. At this time, half-tone printing had not yet been invented, so there were limits to the circulation of these pictures. Print media, such as newspapers, made engravings, drawing from various sources, some photographs,  some sketch-drawings, and some pure imagination. A large selection of a couple of thousand photographs was eventually published in the _The  Photographic History of the Civil War_, in ten volumes, edited by  Francis  Trelyvan Miller,  in 1911. However,  the public visual memory of the Civil War was still  defined by the big painting commissioned for a public building. This painting drew on the same kinds of sources as newspaper engravings.

History painting, in general, collapsed at the end of the nineteenth century. Halftone printing had come along, making it possible to photograph works of art, and economically reproduce them on paper. Equally to the point, travel had become cheaper and easier with the advent of railroads and steamships. Instead of making new pictures out of  the imagination, it was possible to travel all over Europe and see works of art produced in historic times, and photograph them, and accurately reproduce the photographs for sale. In particular, the Spanish pictures were influential, those of El Greco and Velasquez. Madrid had been a remote city, difficult to get to, and the capital of a country which had once been a  great power, but was now lost in its own past. In a sense, the Prado Museum and the Escoril Palace were a kind of lost world.  History painting was demoralized. In the old pictures, people encountered a vivid way of life, which was not merely a translocated copy of their own time.

The big new wave of painting in the 1870's and 1880's was Impressionism. In terms of its subjects, Impressionism did not stray very far from home. Impressionist pictures shocked a lot of people because of their unfinished style, but at one level, they were  fairly conventional. The pictures were usually of things which fell within the daily experience of the upper-middle-class customers. They painted a quite large number of pictures of little girls, engaged in their normal activities, playing with toys or whatever,  and these pictures were commissioned by the parents. Very few impressionist  pictures had any kind of public or political import. The people who painted public pictures were becoming artistic second-raters. Poster artists, working for the print media, were often very political, when they were not engaged in their main business of advertising. A very elaborate  illustration, showing more than a hundred people, was likely to be an advertisement for a department store-- or a labor union poster. Of course, eventually, advertising switched to photography when photography got good enough, with rich enough production values.

By the time of the World  Wars, cameras had become compact enough and automatic enough that a news photographer, someone of the type of Robert Capa, could carry a camera instead of a rifle, and could keep up with the troops to such an extent that he was likely to be killed in battle eventually. Being that far forward, the photographer was able to produce compelling photographs, which could be sent home in the mail as unprocessed rolls of film, and which appeared in newspapers and magazines while the fighting was still going on. These  photographs effectively deprived the artist of his ability to craft a collective memory. They were not technically so good as what an artist could produce, but they were comparatively real, and they wound up in every household, in the form of stacks of back issues of Life magazine in the closet or attic. Of course, during wartime, the pictures still had to pass censorship, so they did not show moral decadence or the like.

By the time of Vietnam, ordinary soldiers were often carrying cameras, although they naturally didn't have as much time to  use them as a combat journalist would  have. Whether the pictures were taken by amateurs or professionals, Vietnam was the great age of the uncensored war photograph, depicting war in all its physical brutality. Only one veil was left: that of inner mentality. Lieutenant Calley still knew enough to lie about what he had done at My Lai. If he was giggling hysterically  while  he personally killed the small children, there is no record of it.

Iraq took the process one step further. Reasonably efficient press censorship was in place,  but cameras had penetrated down to  the  "moron" level, at places like Abu Ghraib. According to recent press interviews, Lynndie England still cannot understand why what she  did  was wrong. She simply hasn't the education or intelligence  to grasp why abusing prisoners-of-war is shameful. It was someone like _that_, who did not understand the necessity of destroying potential evidence, who could casually create souvenir-pictures, the way a hunter does with a dead deer. And that is what the collective visual memory of Iraq  will be.

Now, of course, other things equal, film/video cameras are heavier and bulkier than still cameras, but they are following the same basic trajectory. Photographic images, one might add, tended to "frame"  movies, to define the visual look which movie-makers were  striving for. At a certain point it will become impossible to make Hollywood movies which compete with the home movies made by the participants. Something similar applies to things like gun-camera films, video which is automatically recorded by equipment. Large sections of a movie will be built up out of commonly available archival footage, so abundant that it has no scarcity value, and is not controlled by a few organizations.

Alternately, film-makers might decide that they simply don't need to pretend to portray certain events realistically. They can provide animation at the cartoon level for "framing content," which can be done inexpensively with tools like Second Life, and concentrate their actual filming on much smaller scenes. A novelist varys his exactness of description according to  circumstances. He doesn't tell you exactly what a building looks like, unless it matters. In that case, he may very well draw a picture, or a map, or a diagram. A traditional Hollywood film-maker has to go all-out in achieving exact period detail, because he is trying to convince you that what he is showing you is reality.  Once he simply gives up that goal, because it has become unattainable in the light of  home movies and surveillance footage, the rules change. He has to give you enough  visual cues so that you know what is going on, and where to locate the action. However, that can be done with inexpensive animation and image-processing technique.

Just as painting in the "Grand Manner" went through a fatal  loss of confidence, I suspect that film-making in  the Grand Manner will also go through a fatal loss of confidence. It will come to be understood that if a movie cannot  be made inexpensively, that is a sign that this particular project is not well-suited for film.



Roy Strong, _Recreating the Past: British History and the  Victorian Painter_, 1978

Gus McDonald, _Camera, Victorian Eyewitness: A History of Photography, 1826-1913_, 1979[1980]

Max Gallo, _The Poster in History_, 1974, 1975 [abridged translation of _I Manifesti_, 1972]
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The Potential For Cost-Cutting-- The Historical Parallel of Newspapers.

Rupert Murdoch became rich, largely because, in the 1970's, he was one of the first newspaper proprietors to recognize the economic potential of word processors and kindred software. Word processors liquidated the economic value of the skills of union printers. Anyone who could type could put copy into the system, and once it was in the system, it could be edited without being retyped. Traditionally, typing material into a Linotype machine had been a specialized skill, comparable to operating a keypunch machine in data processing. In the new word-processing regime, stored data could be just fed into the machine, and so be printed. Printing could easily be outsourced to independent printing plants, and a newspaper could keep on publishing, even if it was in the middle of a violent labor strike. Even if the journalists of a local paper went on strike, the management could put together a presentable paper from the wire-service material and the syndicated features, downloaded and cut-and-pasted into the page. Murdoch, recognizing all of this, bought up newspapers which were unprofitable because their labor expenses were too high, and picked fights with the unions, and won the fights, so that the newspapers became profitable. Now, eventually, of course, the wheel turned full circle, and websites began to do to Murdoch what he had done to the union printers. You reap what you sow.

Just as the union printers, in their desperation, resorted to criminal acts such as throwing bricks at people, Murdock and his friends, in their turn, and out of a similar sense of desperation, eventually resorted to the various acts for which they are presently being investigated.

Well, the same process is about to repeat itself in Hollywood. The economic value of the skills of most of the employees will be liquidated. The movie-industry unions presently worry about "runaway productions," in Canada or New Zealand, but that is only the beginning. The central locus of film production is shifting from the stage to the computer. Instead of making things come together on a stage, in front of a camera, the technologically progressive film-maker causes things to come together inside a computer.

Take as an example, the new Lytro camera. It is essentially a massive array of microscopic cameras, which captures what amounts to a hologram instead of a two dimensional image. This means than focus and exposure do not have to be determined at the time pictures are taken, and it also means that the camera records depth information as well as color and brightness. The first property means that the camera crew does not have to be so large. The second property is more interesting, because it enables something like "greenscreen" technique, only without the green background. The post-processing software can be programed to ignore anything which doesn't fall into focus inside a specified distance range, in a particular direction. An array of Lytro cameras can be built into a cart or a vehicle, very much on the principle of Google Street View, and sent out to inexpensively collect three-dimensional background scenery. So there is no longer any need to film on location, with all the expenses that involves, and likewise, a drastically reduced need for stage carpenters, grips, and similar trades. The cameras and similar equipment in the studio can be built into robots, and operated under remote control from... wherever. Similarly, large arrays of microphone can generate signals which can be processed to extract the desired sound, on much the same principle as the Lytro camera. Of course, all of this results in more post-processing work, but that can take place in India or China. Let us say that the developed-country labor requirements of film-making might be reduced by a factor of ten.


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Two-Hour Reserve, Where the Film Studios Will Go.

I've seen something like this before. When I started graduate school (Anthropology, then History), university libraries commonly put scarce books on two-hour reserve. This applied especially during the critical first year, the "boot camp," when people were being put through the wringer. The situation was that fifteen or twenty people would all be trying to read the same book, of which the library had only one copy, over a period of two or three days, before the next class session, so it had to be put on two-hour reserve in the interests of fairness. Of course you couldn't read a book, at least, not the kind of book I'm talking about, in two hours, but you could make photocopies. Then, if you rationed yourself to four hours sleep, you had just barely time to read the book in time for class, write a reading note, and to be able to orally answer the professor's oral questions. Being in such a program was incompatible with any kind of part-time job, of course. The professor and the library turned a Nelsonian blind eye to the photocopying. They couldn't ask starving graduate students to spend fifty or a hundred dollars a day on books, even if particular titles were still in print, but they could, by God, require them to _read_ that many books. Even if the books were in print, unless the professor had pre-ordered them through the bookstore, there simply would not have been time to find copies, this being before Borders Bookstore took off. The professor was in the position of either saying that graduate students were either required to buy a book, or required to photocopy it. The professor decided what the poorest member of the class could afford, and acted accordingly. Of course, photocopying cost about as much as mass-market paperback books would cost, but these weren't mass-market paperbacks. This kind of copying did not have much economic implication, because it involved only a tiny elite of hardcore liberal arts graduate students, compared to whom both law students and MBA students were both affluent and lazy. The difference, this time around, will be that automation will supply the place of labor. When people rent movies by the hour, they will, of course, rip them, return the originals, and watch the ripped copies at their leisure. The only practical defense the movie industry will have will be to sell movies outright for rental prices.

Hollywood is not going to find a painless marketing formula which allows business as usual. It will have to get its costs down. Hollywood will go to Bollywood, that is, it will move its operations to India. As "Anonymous Coward" (Dec 11th, 2009 @ 10:19am) notes, the vast majority of the people involved in making a movie do not appear on screen. They are cameramen, gaffers, grips, soundmen, lighting men, carpenters, electricians, costumers, make-up specialists, film editors, and a hundred other specialized trades. However, this means that it does not matter if they are Indians. The Indian film industry is one of the most vibrant ones in the world, producing huge numbers of films in multiple languages, and distributing them to Indian audiences who are film junkies in ways which American have not been since the 1930's. At some point, American directors and leading actors will tap into this system.

Now, as for the extras, walk-ons, etc., the largest category of actor, such people have traditionally moved to Los Angeles, registered with casting agencies, and then found themselves ordinary jobs to live on while waiting for screen calls. They have worked as waiters or cab drivers, or the like, dead-end jobs where the employer expects a high turn-over, and doesn't particularly mind people leaving without warning or notice, and will hire someone on a day's notice without references. Allowing for precariousness of employment, bit-part actors have been paid approximately minimum-wage for the net time lost from their table-waiting jobs. Of course, an expatriate cannot do that kind of thing in India, but living expenses are much lower, and someone who is stage-struck can work in the United States for a couple of years, in the kind of job for which one does need references, eg. teaching school, and save up enough money to live in India for a couple of years. Indian producers and directors will discover that they can make movies for the American market, working with Americans who are not affiliated with the American film industry.

Once an industry moves offshore, its political influence diminishes. It is no longer a source of steady high-wage employment for Americans. The political base of the movie industry is someone like a cameraman. The cameramen, etc. are not like actors-- they are craftsmen. Within reason, a good cameraman can film any kind of movie, which means that the cameraman can work steadily at high wages, filming whatever is being filmed. He votes for whoever favors the film industry, just the way autoworkers used to vote for whoever favored the automobile industry. As the movie industry moves offshore to cut costs, it will leave the union cameraman behind. It will no longer have its own congresscritters like Howard Berman or Mary Bono.
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Instrument-Playing as Calligraphy.

Think what you might do if you wanted to to make the physical act of writing difficult. You would get rid of the computer, of course, and other keyboard devices such as typewriters, and also the pencil, and insist on the use of the pen and un-erasable India ink. You would require a pen that did not have an internal ink reservoir, and which had to be periodically replenished by dipping in an inkwell. The pen would have a broad angled nib with a narrow edge, and the scrivener, to give him his traditional name, would be expected to form letters with thick and thin lines in appropriate places, and to add appropriate ornamental curlicues and flourishes, the kind of thing you see on diplomas and suchlike. That was the normal mode of writing in the middle ages. In the end, you would reach a point where most people did not have the skill to write things down in an acceptable manner, and handwriting would become a "mystery." That is approximately where instrumental music is.

Now, let us do the opposite. Let us think about how to make instrumental performance easy. Let us devise an improvement on the Theremin. Imagine a device more or less similar to a Wii-Mote, which can be manufactured to sell for ten dollars or so, cheaper than almost any kind of real instrument, because all of its precision elements are packed into a chip or two. Now, take the following conventions: Left-Right is pitch, similar to a piano keyboard; In-Out is tempo; Up-Down is volume; Clockwise-Counter-Clockwise is note length, relative to tempo; Grip Pressure is pitch oscillation, ie. trilling. In these terms, music has a physical shape, and it is possible to draw music in the air in front of one. Alternatively, you can visualize music with a pair of data-goggles. Most people can draw well enough to communicate, not as well as a trained artist, of course, but sufficiently to get an idea across. Just about everyone can sing after a fashion, again not as well as a trained singer, but sufficiently. This device I have described is not a toy. It is a real instrument, and an extremely versatile one.

My guess is that such an instrument would be enough to produce a "decimation" of pop musicians, similar to what happened to movie actors when sound movies came in, circa 1925-30. Just about everyone who could hear a given effect would be able to reproduce it. There would not be a gap between reading-literacy and writing-literacy, so to speak. Someone like Bill Wyman would no longer be admired for his "penmanship"-- he would be obliged to demonstrate the quality of his ideas and the quality of his character.


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Your: "Elementary": Sherlock Holmes Is Back in a Big Way, History News Network, 5-14-12
05/21/2012 06:52 PM
Bruce Chadwick <bchadwick@njcu.edu>
RE: http://hnn.us/articles/elementary-sherlock-holmes-back-big-way

We tend to see highly sucessful historic authors as sui generis. That is a mistake. Closer examination usually turns up large numbers of similar authors who were not quite so commercially successful. This is equally true of A. Conan Doyle. There are two anthologies that I know of, titled _Rivals of Sherlock Holmes_, a short one edited by Hugh Greene (1970), and a more extensive two volume collection edited by Alan K. Russell (1979). Russell identified at least thirty "rivals."

At that level, one can make certain observations. A Conan Doyle was one of a disproportionate number of detective-story authors who were physicians. At a certain level, "scientific detection" was a claim for medical diagnostics as a philosophical system, probably in opposition to law as a philosophical system. Or, to put it another way, doctors and lawyers were in dispute about who was to claim the mass of official positions which had hitherto been occupied by hereditary noblemen, clergymen,  and professional soldiers, but which were up for grabs with the expansion of democracy.
Of course, detective stories have very little to do with what policemen actually do. The most basic function of the police is to maintain the public peace, so their actions have to do with responses to more or less overt acts, and the disputes about the police have to do with how they respond to overt acts, such as industrial strikes and riots, inter alia.

            Andrew D. Todd
            1249 Pineview Dr., Apt 4
            Morgantown, WV 26505

            adtodd@mail.wvnet.edu

http://rowboats-sd-ca.com/



Unpublished Comment on:

Cosma Rohilla Shalizi,

"The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,"

January 19, 2010

 http://cscs.umich.edu/~crshalizi/weblog/638.html

(now)

 https://web.archive.org/web/20101007102024/http://cscs.umich.edu/%7Ecrshalizi/weblog/638.html

(and)

     http://www.cscs.umich.edu/~crshalizi/

(now)

https://web.archive.org/web/20121205011708/http://masi.cscs.lsa.umich.edu/%7Ecrshalizi/



(My Comment, 01/22/2010 07:58 PM)

I dealt with some of  these issues in a paper about Second Life:

http://rowboats-sd-ca.com/adtodd1a/fut_sl_3.htm

With respect to point 2, the issue of color: in Japan, Hiroshige and  Hokusai, circa 1800, solved the color problem brilliantly, with a system of registered wood blocks, with marks to line them up against corresponding  marks on  the paper. An eighth of an inch or so of registration error would not have been critical.  They hadn't gotten to  copper plates and the engraver's burrin yet.  They simply had one block for each recurrent color, eg. skin, plant  leaves, water, sky, earth, etc., and used these to apply color "washes" on top of a black-and-white print. I suppose they could have gotten an assortment of muddy  browns as a free bonus, by combining colors. They did not have to do anything like a modern color separation.

In respect to the public versus private dichotomy: in Europe, it would seem to have been an obvious move to print something like a book of hours. A book of hours was a lavishly color-illustrated private prayerbook. It was expensive but private. The most  famous book of hours is the  _Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry_, made for a French prince:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tres_Riches_Heures_du_Duc_de_Berry

But there  are others,  notably that of Catherine of Cleves.  Such a book of hours could have been made available to more people. However, what actually got produced was the vernacular bible, the complete authentic  textual authority of the church, in the owner's native language instead of in Latin. Visual effects were  employed by the Catholic  Church, as a kind of adjunct to Springer and Tetzel. The Protestant Reformation was therefore Iconoclastic. The same people who printed and sold bibles were likely to be going into churches with buckets of whitewash to obliterate the images of the saints. They didn't want  the man in the street to respond sensually to the culture of  the church-- they wanted him to respond intellectually, as a kind of theologian.

When a new technology of artistic representation comes along, it  has a kind of scary power, because unsophisticated people deal with it as if it were reality. This comes fairly close to the idea of the "uncanny valley" in robotics. This effect produces a counter-reaction of some kind.

In a related issue,  look at photography as an art. Specifically, look at Edward Steichen's _The Family of Man_ (1955), published for the Museum of Modern Art. This book is about the fullest statement of  photography as a humanistic art. The five hundred-odd pictures represent  a continuation of what painting was doing  before the advent of mechanical reproduction. At that time, the single most  prestigious venue of publication was Life Magazine, which had one of the highest circulations of any magazine.

Incidentally, I don't know if you will have read Victor Papenek, _Design  for the Real World_ (1972, esp. ch. 3) and Tom Wolfe's _From Bauhaus to Our  House_ (1981) and _The Painted Word_. Papenek's book is polemical, and Wolfe's books are satirical, but you would find them a useful starting  point for discussing the nature of modern art.
 



HNN Post, John Willingham, Historical Fiction and the ‘Gaps’ in Academic History

02/07/2011 10:13 AM

http://hnn.us/articles/136035.html

https://web.archive.org/web/20111126010118/http://hnn.us/articles/136035.html

[The comment thread seems to be irretrievable . However, as nearly as I can remember, Jonathan Dresner made a fairly root and branch denunciation of historical novels. I responded with this:]

Deep Structure and Counter-Factual  Novels.

Well, quite frankly, I think you [Jonathan Dresner, are] being a bit parochial.

I don't know if you have read Marshall Sahlins little book,  _Historical Metaphors and Mythical Realities: Structure in the  Early History of the Sandwich Islands Kingdom_, 1981. Admittedly, it has been some time since I read this, about twenty-five years, give or take a bit, and when I went to  my Anthropology shelves looking for it, I had  to get a dustcloth and do  about  ten years of spring cleaning. This is  not the kind of literature that historians normally read, of course. Sahlins taught  in the  Anthropology department at Michigan-- he was one of Leslie White's group of Cultural Evolutionists. Sahlins interprets James  Cook's final  adventure  in Hawaii in 1779, in terms of what he calls  "Structure of the Conjuncture," ie. the rules of the game. Cook performed certain actions which the Hawaiians understood  to be a claim to  be Lono, just as, for example, riding into Jerusalem on a certain day on a white donkey has been traditionally understood, since perhaps the fifth century, B. C.,  to be a claim to be the Jewish Messiah. The difference is that Cook, not  being deeply versed in Hawaiian traditions, did not  know that he was making such a claim. At that level, truth is not what happened,  but the rules of the  game  within which the events happened, the "deep structure," if I may  borrow a term from linguistics. 

As a first step, I would  like you to consider Douglas C. Jones' novel, _The Court-Martial of George Armstrong Custer_ (1976). This novel is built around one big counter-factual element, the proposition  that Custer survived the Little Big Horn, left for dead among a  pile of dead bodies. This not a very preposterous claim-- there are a surprising number of people who survived the  Holocaust on such terms, circa 1944. This claim leads to a second counter-factual element, that there was a court-martial. There was, historically, an official inquiry, in 1879, at the request of Major Marcus Reno, and great sections of Jones'  book  are imported, more or less verbatim, from the Reno Inquiry  proceedings. Of course, the scope of the Reno Inquiry was comparatively  limited. Major Reno had received his orders from Custer, not  from General Alfred Terry, commanding the forces in the  Yellowstone valley, nor yet again from General Sheridan in Chicago, or  General Sherman and President Grant  in Washington. Reno had not made the decision to divide the  Seventh Cavalry into  four  elements of 100-200 men each. The Reno Inquiry found that Reno had done very well, considering his starting position, and that is  nothing more or less than the truth.  By imagining Custer to be the man on trial, Jones was able to broaden the scope of  the inquiry, as in the scene where the prosecutor examines General Phillip Sheridan. There is another expanding element. In historical fact, Libby Custer, with the aid of her official biographer, Frederick  Whittaker, defended the reputation of her hero. She did this partly by a sustained whispering campaign, and partly by having the  good fortune to  outlive the  participants, and thus, to  have the last word in public. Lastly, no one bothered to listen to the Crow scouts who  were still out in Montana. In the 1930's, people like Mari Sandoz and John Neihardt went out and interviewed all  the surviving Indians of the various tribes, at the last possible moment before they  died. Mari Sandoz, in particular, had grown up in the milieu, circa 1900, a little Swiss immigrant girl tagging along behind an old Lakota  medicine woman as they walked over the hills of western Nebraska, looking for medicinal plants. Jones used the device of  the  court-martial to incorporate these three additional strands of material, and bring them in collision.

"The Crow [scout Goes Ahead] had obviously come to say a great deal more... he pauses and looks at Custer and laughs, a short hard burst of  laughter.  He waves a finger toward the cavalryman as though scolding a small child. 'Too _many_, Yellow  Hair, too _many_.'" (Jones, ch 9, p. 112, pbk. ed.)

By a device of fiction, Douglas Jones is able to bring out the deeper truth.

I suppose  I should state my personal interest. I have been involved in web-publishing a series of counter-factual historical novels written  by my father, William L. Todd, dealing with the Second World War and  the Cold War. During peacetime, the  future belligerents were obliged to make choices about what kind of weapons to spend their money on. When the war came, they had no choice but to use the  weapons they had, employing the tactics planned around those weapons.  My father  chose to examine the  question of what would have happened if they had made different choices ten years earlier, treating  each major battle  or campaign in a different novel. As it happens, his Battle-of-France-that-never-was, written circa 1985-1990,  turned out to be an eerily accurate prediction of what would happen in the Iraq war, with IED's and all. My father is a retired Philosophy professor (U. Cincinnati). As he puts it, Philosophy is an intellectual poaching license.  In his second scholarly book, _History as Applied Science: A Philosophical Study_ (Wayne State, 1972), he made a case for  a history which took account of simulation, of things like war  gaming. About five or ten years later, he took up his own challenge, and started writing his Midway novel, and taught  himself to write novels by successively revising the thing  over a period of ten or fifteen years, while starting other novels going at the same time. He had been playing around with this sort of thing for years, ever since he worked in a highly classified government computer installation in the mid-1950's. Some of his oldest working papers for the Midway book's underlying simulation date to 1958.


HNN Post, Jeremy Brecher and Brendan Smit, Is Malcom Gladwell Right That Social Media is Useless for Change?

10/18/2010 06:00 PM

[originally http://www.hnn.us/articles/132571.html]

now:

http://hnn.us/articles/132571.html

New and Old Social Media.

In the first place,  Malcolm  Gladwell is talking about "New Social Media,"  meaning things like Twitter and Facebook, not about websites,  blogs, or listservs. New Social Media tend to be constructed in ways which cater to the mentality of children.  For example, Twitter messages are limited  to 140 characters, to exclude people who develop complex and nuanced arguments, ie. adults. Facebook is an  implementation of what is sometimes called "The High  School  Popularity Game." It has fairly fine-grained controls about who can read a particular  message--  like  little girls passing notes about each other in class. Little  Jenny passes  a note to  Little Brenda  during Mrs. Frunklemeyer's English  class,  saying that "Melissa's dress is  so ICKY." Much of the enthusiasm for New Social Media is developed by a group of media theorists-- Gladwell cites Clay Shirkey-- who have research interests growing out of commerce, and who tend to be employed by schools of business  administration. To tap into this literature, I cannot give you any better advice  than to read  Techdirt.com regularly. For example, there  is an extensive discussion of how rock musicians can continue to make a living under new conditions. Children are the archetypal consumers. They buy all  kinds of things which an adult would instinctively dismiss as junk. Admen, sooner or later, wind up talking about how  to  market things to children.

Websites, blogs, and listservs  don't excite very much commercial interest, largely because the tools involved have become commodities.  No one can quite see how to  make  large sums of money acting as an  intermediary  on a large scale. One can start a website, blog, or listserv without becoming involved with a package of commercial advertising.  The  political use of blogs, etc. is not to organize demonstrators, but to win elections, and to do so by appealing to the intelligence and good sense of  the  moderate middle. The point of the exercise is to engage  moderate elements on the other  side, so the distinctive  features of  Twitter and Facebook are broadly inappropriate.  "Friends, Romans,  Countrymen, lend me your  ears." A blog at its best is very  much  like a newspaper at its best, though of course with certain additional flexibilities. However, for a long time,  there have not  been competing newspapers in most  parts of  the country, and most  newspapers are very  far  from being the  best they could be.

I  understand that Egyptian activists  have used social media to  telegraph  basic factual information-- that there will  be a  demonstration at  such and such a time and  place--  simply in an attempt  to assemble a crowd of sufficient size that the  police and military have to back down or else resort to massive firepower. And, yes, people in  the  Egyptian movement informed on each other, but there were differences in time-scale. If you look at these events from a military perspective, one starting point is that there are not very many specialized riot police, paramilitary troops, or whatever. To keep  pace,  they have to be  much , much more mobile than the  demonstrators. It might take several hours to collect a battalion of eight hundred  men from its various garrison activities at a base outside of town,  and move it--  as an organized unit-- to a particular urban square. By contrast, assume that an activist organizer can telegraph a message to, say, a hundred thousand people. That is, he causes messages  to  go to ten thousand people, who "seed"  the  information into  a  thousand places of public congregation-- coffeehouses or whatever. A hundred thousand people  hear the  message verbally within a very few minutes, and five  percent of them act  on it within an hour, and begin traveling as individual commuters to the proposed  destination, taking as much as two hours. That puts five thousand people on  the site before the paramilitary police can arrive. The demonstrators may not  win the ensuing donnybrook, but they can at least demonstrate that the regime does not possess the ability to  maintain public order. You might  look at  Edward Luttwak's _Coup d'Etat: A Practical Handbook_ (1968, 1969).  A demonstration is not quite the same as a coup d'etat, but it has a certain similarity  in tactical issues.


The initial sit-ins, in their  spontaneous phase, had a fairly limited objective:  to induce  Northerners to stop unthinkingly supporting Segregation, and by so doing, to force  the Upper South to choose between  its "beloved institution" and the  benefits of economic integration with the  rest of the country. For North Carolina, this  was basically a  "no-brainer," once the stakes were fairly laid on the table.  This effectively confined "Jim Crow" to areas in  the Deep  South, where the white majority was crazy enough to close down  the school system rather than desegregate.  Thus the things which happened in Alabama, and especially in Mississippi, were qualitatively different from those which happened  in North Carolina.  At that  date, students lived in dormitories, and assembling them  was not an issue.

============================================
SCRAP

Gladwell alludes to, but does not  name, the Baader-Meinhoff gang as an example of cohesion.



-----------
http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/10/04/101004fa_fact_gladwell?currentPage=all

John Willingham,  More Controversy in Texas over Textbooks

09/27/2010 08:20 AM

http://www.hnn.us/articles/131782.html

(now)

http://hnn.us/articles/131782.html

Ibn  Fadlan

The business about  Swedish Viking filth comes, of course, from the tenth-century Arab traveler Ibn  Fadlan, who also describes human  sacrifice in a Viking  funeral, and the  Vikings gang-raping the  girl who  was to be  sacrificed. Those facts which are  amenable  to corroboration  by  archaeological  methods have been  corroborated. I suppose the textbook  account the Texans were complaining  about  must  have  been bowdlerized in  the first  place.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahmad_ibn_Fadlan

Of course, it can be justly pointed out that Christianity did not  reach  large  portions of  Scandinavia until at least the eleventh  century, that the Vikings in question were pagan, and  that Christianity  was purely nominal for a considerable period thereafter. See, for example, the account  of the  Christian missionary and the  berserker in the  Njalsaga, which was written down in the thirteenth century. 




HNN post, Sage Ross, The Two Cultures, 50 years later

05/17/2009 02:38 AM




http://hnn.us/blogs/comments/84583.html#comment
(now)
https://web.archive.org/web/20090825130216/http://hnn.us/blogs/comments/84583.html

Who Were the Readers?

There is an interesting book, L Sprague de Camp and Catherine Crook de Camp, _Science Fiction Handbook: Revised: How to  Write and Sell Imaginative Stories_ (1975). On page 69, they cite market research done by John W. Campbell of _Astounding Science Fiction_ in the late 1930's, and in 1949. The typical reader was a thirty-year-old male scientist or engineer with a college degree. Alternatively, this could be viewed as a bimodal distribution, consisting of high school or college students  in science and engineering on the  one hand, and and somewhat older qualified scientists and engineers, say about forty years old, one the other. We are talking about  people who were far  from being representative of the general population. Oddly enough, the science fiction writers, being a  bit older, and pre-GI-bill,  had less impressive formal educational credentials than the readers had.

Isaac Asimov, one of the great hard science fiction writers, not only wrote science fiction, but  also a line of popular science paperbacks, covering the exciting new areas such as modern physics, biochemistry and molecular genetics, neurology, etc., at a level more accessible than, say, Scientific American, notwithstanding that Scientific American had  color illustrations and the books didn't.  As a teenager, back in the early 1970's, I was given these books by my parents, even while I was covering the  standard high-school science  curriculum. If you view science fiction as children's books,  there is a technique of writing children's books. They have to be written at two levels, one for the adult reading aloud, and the other for the child being read to. Otherwise, the child senses that  the adult is bored, more or less at the level that a dog senses things, and tunes out in sympathy.  Good children's books are full of things which the adult understands,  but  the child doesn't need to. You can see this fairly clearly in a book like _The Wind in  the Willows_ (1908). For example,  in the  Wild Wood, the Mole meets a rabbit who is experiencing  the classic symptoms of acute shell-shock. This was before the First  World War, so I suppose Kenneth Grahame must have borrowed from Stephen Crane's _Red Badge of Courage_. If you view science fiction in fathers-and-sons terms, one contained text is  written for someone about fourteen  years old, and the other contained text is written for an  adult  who happens to be scientifically educated.

Bad children's books (eg. Harry  Potter, the Stratemeyer Syndicate stuff-- Tom  Swift, Hardy  Boys, Nancy Drew, etc.) are not written at two levels. They are written down to what so-called experts think children can understand. The basic fallacy in this approach is that it assumes that the child's parents are  illiterate  wretched peasants. At a certain level, the whole point of the  public school system, in the  age of Jane Addams, was to remove the child from  the  home and prevent the parents from exploiting the  child as cheap labor. The school was a kind of orphanage on the  installment plan, and it produced things like the Stratemeyer Syndicate.

Soft science fiction is archetypically women's science fiction, and it has linkages to the information sciences. I don't know about  biochemistry,  but  computer science is a comparatively  feminine field, at times, and under the right  circumstances, approaching equal representation. Here's a piece I put up a couple of years ago:
--------------------------------------------
Comment on

 Amy H. Sturgis, Libertarianism in Mainstream Science Fiction

http://hnn.us/blogs/comments/35114.html#comment

[I cannot locate Amy Sturgis’s comment, but here is an interview she gave several years later, which will no doubt reflect her views in more evolved form:]

https://www.lfs.org/newsletter/029/03/Prometheus_2903.pdf

(My comment, 02/10/2007 05:17 AM)
The Other Science Fiction Writers

I suppose one obvious point of omission in Eric S. Raymond's "A Political History of SF" is that he does not say anything about Womens' Science Fiction. Womens' Science Fiction is sometimes classified as "Fantasy," because it is organized around "magic," rather  than hard science. However, "magic" is in fact a code word for the  Information Sciences (Computer Science, molecular  biology, etc.). Hard science, in  the era of people like Heinlein was centered around thermodynamics. The information sciences do not connect very strongly with thermodynamics, in the sense that the ordering of things is much more important than their heat value. The magic of fantasy is word-magic or mind magic, in other words, software.

The big trinity of Womens' Science Fiction is Marion  Zimmer  Bradley (1930-1999), Ursula LeGuin (1929-) , and Anne McCaffrey (1926-). Of the three, Marion  Zimmer  Bradley was the most prolific.  Her major  literary  invention,  'The  Guild of Renunciates,' or  "Free Amazons,"  is somewhere between a religious order  and  a radical feminist commune (in fact, she said  she  got  much of her material by simply looking at what was going  on   around her in Berkeley). She is an enormously important figure because for many years she ran writing schools, and edited anthologies for her students to publish in. The number of her students who eventually published books in their own right must be at least a couple of dozen. Anne McCaffrey, who was  also a writing teacher if I recall correctly,  wrote her major body of work about a   fictional world  where  freedom  of  action proceeded from telepathic communication with semi-intelligent giant reptiles (rather like a dog in mental outlook). Ursula LeGuin, the daughter of  the anthropologist Alfred L. Kroeber, could _perhaps_  be described as a Ghandian anarchist. In terms of sheer depth of thought, she was probably  the greatest of  the  three, even though she wrote fewer books. One might think of her bearing approximately the same literary relationship to the  other two that Emily Bronte bore to Charlotte and Anne Bronte. Le Guin wrote three major  works, _Left Hand of Darkness_, _The Dispossessed, and the _Earth-Sea Trilogy_.  Their basic line runs approximately as follows:  "You have in fact got freedom of action. Your power is in you mind, and short of killing you, there is no way anyone can disempower you. Now, what do you want to do with your power?" At the risk of trying to force words into someone else's mouth, one can say that Bradley, McCaffrey, and LeGuin pursued a moral communitarianism which took anarchism as a base condition.

To put it another way, I can write programs faster than a lawyer can write laws to restrict what the programs are allowed to do, and I can therefore ultimately run rings around the lawyer. What matters is what  kind of software I want to write, and feel proud to write. Most of the people who know enough to write a botnet virus regard doing so as a shameful thing, so botnets are contained within acceptable limits.

A couple of years ago, Cory Doctorow observed that it was no longer  possible to write science fiction because one could no longer envision technologies which could not readily be reduced to practice.  At  this stage of the game, the  major limiting factor on the information technologies (in the largest sense of the  word, including genetic engineering) is not lack of scientific knowledge.  Rather, the major limiting factor is political resistance, partly vested interests, and partly fear of change.

I should like to take one  modern  science fiction writer as illustrative. Orson Scott Card (1951--) is probably  best known for the character "Ender Wiggins," the child bred from earliest infancy for the purpose of total war, who in all innocence  becomes a genocidal mass-murderer  while still in his early teens. The element of speculation is first and foremost a kind of extension of Jonathan Swift's "Modest Proposal." The fantasy is  that society  oversteps certain moral limits. Note that Card chose to call his hypothetical faster-than-light communications device an "ansible," explicitly linking it to LeGuin, and her almost inhumanly patient galaxy-traveling wise men. Card replied that  if one has a communications device, one can plug it into the controls of a war robot.

===========================================================================
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bradley%2C_Marion_Zimmer

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ursula_LeGuin

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Mccaffrey

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orson_scott_card
http://www4.ncsu.edu/~tenshi/Killer_000.htm






To: Ralph M. Hitchens: I think you have to realize that people in high places are not just scientifically illiterate. They are  artistically illiterate, and literarilly illiterate, and philosophically illiterate, etc. They are power  junkies, in short, with very little interest in anything which is not demonstrably related to power. 


================================================
SCRAP:

At a somewhat earlier age, I think I must have gotten just about every mechanical-scientific toy  that was available: Lincoln Logs, Tinker Toys, Erector Sets, Logo Blocks, a toy lathe-drill press (it would only cut balsa wood, but it was child-safe, would not remove little fingers or anything  like  that), a microscope, a chemistry set, and at least one of those electrical experiment kits you can buy at Radio Shack. I was also given something called a Digi-Comp, a simple computer working  on the principle of a pinball machine. Marbles rolled down chutes and tipped rocker arms back and forth. There were also Soma Cubes, a very simple  toy, a set of rather oddly shaped building  blocks designed by a Dutch mathematician to teach mathematical intuition. A family friend, my mother's old mathematics professor, worked out  a system of falling dominoes which did digital logic, and I was given a set of those.  I was given a set of mechanical drawing  tools of professional quality, which not only survived childhood play, but years later, when I took mechanical drawing in engineering school, I  was still using some of them.

In practice, when I find social science with a lot of statistics, in the sense of correlating this and correlating  that, it usually turns out to be second-rate work. The practitioner of  statistical social science is usually  abdicating  the scholar's duty to tell a story. For example, Anthropology is the higher travel  literature.

(05/20/2009 12:30 AM)

Computer Science Has  Changed.

In the first place, "science fiction" is something of a misnomer. Perhaps it should be "technology fiction," because the emphasis is not primarily on science-for-the-sake-of-knowing, but on applied science. Charles Darwin on  the Beagle doesn't really qualify. Nor does someone who spends a year following a troop of monkeys around and describing their ecology and  sociology.

I should explain that my research in the history of computing  is mostly in the  period 1940-1980, not in the age of the internet. I used the Babbage Center Oral Histories for the earlier  period, and trade magazines and professional journals when they became available, circa 1960.  The percentage of women in many aspects of computer programming, broadly speaking, ran about  25-35%, at least three or four times greater than that in engineering. At this date, this representation included bachelors degrees in computer science. The comparatively low rate of women earning advanced degrees in computer science was an anomaly.  One point of caution is that one should not equate academic Computer Science with computer programming. Computer Science is something of a failed discipline, in the sense that it was never able to dominate its industry in the sense that Mechanical Engineering dominated the machine-building industries. People  who spoke about  Computer Science as a profession usually had  the ulterior motive of banning programming by people who did  not  have Computer Science degrees. There were always vast numbers of people who learned what Computer Science  they needed to know, and started programming, but resisted indoctrination, so to speak.

It also depends on whether you view Computer Science from the standpoint of biology, or from the standpoint of engineering. I was originally trained in a branch of mechanical engineering, Engineering Science,  back in the early 1980's, and I pulled strings to be allowed to take a sophomore-level Computer Science sequence. This was just before personal computers  became widely available, and a lot of the difficulty  of covering the material had  to  do with what one might describe as "friction," meaning for example, that the keypunches used for writing programs on  punched cards were about as difficult  to use as a Linotype (one couldn't  see what one were typing). They were  considerably more difficult to use than a typewriter, and there weren't enough of them, so that one had to wait until the  middle of the night. The vending machines in the computer labs sold blank punch cards in packets of fifty for a quarter (like selling paper  one page at a time), which gives one some idea of the contemporary scale of programming. When I talked my way into the Computer Science sequence, I had taken five programming courses in  the engineering school, for about fifteen quarter-hours (ten semester-hours), and had written less than five hundred lines of code, distributed over at least a dozen programs. That was enough to get me a license to break the rules, because other people had done still less.  Obviously,  the rules changed when one had a computer of one's own. The material could have been covered much faster if the instructor had been in the position to assume that the students would be able to try things out during  lunchtime. A whole series of factors like this meant that the subject matter of computer science was tending to vanish down into high school. Under these circumstances, nine semester-hours of college courses could be enough to teach most of the  useful techniques of Computer Science.

In approximately  1980-85, there was a discontinuity in Computer  Science, due to the advent of the personal computer. Big machines went into economic decline, as work was offloaded onto cheaper little computers. Big machine companies downsized.  As the little computers grew, there was a disconnect between commercial development and research. The designers of a microcomputer  with, say, a million transistors would inevitably look backwards about twenty years  to a proven mainframe design of the same size, as codified in undergraduate textbooks, not to current research, which was likely to  be about computers with a billion transistors or more. Young men like Bill Gates realized that they did not have to stay in school or go to work for big companies, that they could just take coursework assignments and commercialize them. If I were to pick one iconic event for academic computer science, it would be the University of Michigan's transfer of its computer science department from the liberal arts college to the engineering school, and John Holland's subsequent employment difficulties, which led to his becoming involved with the Santa Fe institute in self-defense.

I suspect that what happened after 1985 was the "failed science" phase. On a lot of campuses, computer science was simply being absorbed into Electrical Engineering. They came up with a major called Computer Engineering, which was effectively a sub-major within Electrical Engineering, with a few computer science courses added. Alternatively, Computer Science could  be subsumed into Applied Mathematics and Statistics, but that was less common. Under the circumstances, Computer Science was more  than usually susceptible to being taken over by people who needed  the Green Card. This happened in large sections of science and engineering  anyway. Whole departments became occupied by people from Mumbai or Taipai, whose outlook was essentially Victorian, who still regarded the abolition of arranged marriages and dowry as a major step forward.

See my previous comment:
http://hnn.us/readcomment.php?id=111041&bheaders=1#111041
in:
http://hnn.us/roundup/entries/40331.html

Now, the  origins of Women's Science Fiction belong to the period before 1980, not afterwards. Ursula Le Guin did her most creative work circa 1970. The period after 1980 is the period in which Marion Zimmer Bradley was running her writing school, and publishing anthologies of her students' work. I have located examples of ironic fantasy fiction in a computer trade journal, Datamation, from the 1970's. Parenthetically, Datamation was increasingly written and edited by  women.

Here is my considered take on the "woman question" in computers. I have to say that the position taken by professional feminists is excessively simplistic:

http://rowboats-sd-ca.com/adtodd1a/free_am.htm
http://rowboats-sd-ca.com/adtodd1a/sm_3_fr.pdf






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