interactive – textual media

Tachistoscope: The Conscious and the Subconscious

Hayles writes that “literature…activates a recursive feedback loop between knowledge realized in the body through gesture, ritual, performance, posture, and enactment, and knowledge realized in the neocortex as conscious and explicit articulations. As the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu has shown, robust and durable knowledge can be transmitted through social practices and enactments without being consciously articulated” (132). This concept comes into play, particularly when considering William Poundstone’s Tachistoscope. Because of the element of subliminal messaging and the way the text is constructed in terms of color, multimedia, and symbolism, the reader is, in effect, approaching a text that is almost dream-like, greatly engaging the subconscious realm of the brain.

While Hayles offers her own assessment of Tachistoscope, her explanations for various symbols are subjective and her analysis of the work itself seems cursory, functioning more appropriately as a summary of what the reader is to encounter while interacting with the text. After going through Tachistoscope several times, the text became much more cohesive as a story. While I did, as Hayles predicted, attempt to “screen out…‘extraneous’ information” (142), I also attempted to force my consciousness to integrate it into the work and understand the underlying meanings of the symbols and subliminal pictures and messages. The white words, superimposed by larger black words, generally appeared on the screen at a pace that was too fast for me to process. However, I did notice images of faces in these sequences, as well, which may have subliminally provided context in the form of characterization. Were they the faces of people who had fallen into the bottomless pit? Were they the faces of people from the town where the pit had been formed? I could not be sure, although these questions came to mind. I also took into account the use of color and how the colors made me feel. For example, dark blues appeared to signal tragic events, such as people falling into the bottomless pit. I also noticed that the orange spheres increased my anxiety as I read the text.

As for the symbols behind most of the words (e.g. the knife and fork, the cross, the martini glass), I was unsure of what to make of their meanings. Hayles’s inferences as to what their meanings were did not come to mind while I, personally, was interacting with the text. The symbols seemed to denote the man-made objects and, perhaps, their implications, both negative and positive. In the work, there are symbols depicting construction work—perhaps referencing the main plot event at hand, which has caused irreparable damage, not just to the area of land itself, but to the town in which it exists and the people who live in that town. There are also symbols like keys and planes—perhaps alluding to the idea of escape. The population of the town does eventually dwindle, as the text reveals. Additionally, I felt as though the symbols alluded to a sense of historical context. I understand that this is a far reach, but the Afro pick, for example, reminded me of Civil Rights events in the 20^th century, while the bomb reminded me of war. I associated the crown with medieval times, and also associated the key with the distant past, because of its shape and form.

For me, the symbols placed the words flashing across the screen within the context of culture that was ever-evolving and ever-changing. This may have also been partially due to the nature of the music, which contained a series of chord progressions that, at its climax, seemed uplifting by providing the reader a sense of movement within the text—a feeling of being propelled forward during the crescendo and the addition of music that was more melodic than the repetitive notes played at the beginning of the music’s cycle.

The music, I found, was the most compelling aspect of the text, rather than the imagery. I did not feel as though the images had much of an effect on me other than the fact that I found them distracting. Perhaps because, as humans, we have an innate desire to make sense of our experiences and observations, the subliminal messaging along with the use of symbols in this piece became frustrating components of the work for me. Nonetheless, it was an interesting exploration; trying to find meaning within the symbols used, as well as the subliminal messaging. I felt somewhat detached to the literal text of the piece because of the symbols and subliminal messaging, which I thought was interesting. Rather than responding emotionally to the text, I felt myself responding to it from a more analytical standpoint. For this reason, the symbols and subliminal messaging most likely contributed to the tone of the piece in my experience of interacting with it.

Blog #3: Photopia

Eventually, I came to a dead end in Photopia after spending about 45 minutes to an hour playing around with it. However, after becoming accustomed to what commands the program could process, it became a relatively easy process overall to navigate through Photopia. I enjoyed the fact that I played a relatively passive role in my outcome—I was more focused on exploring each scenario as much as possible, making the program less plot-based and more interactive in the sense that I had the illusion of choice-making. As the person interacting with the text, I was able to “explore the field of the possible” (211) as Marie-Laure Ryan discusses. By typing commands such as “listen,” “go north,” “examine ____,” et al, I felt included in the reading of a story, and I was allowed to make choices in terms of the order in which I learned elements of the story.

I feel that Ryan would place Photopia in the category of “electronic, interactive, nonergodic texts” (209), because of the inevitable outcomes of the various scenarios presented, though the allowance exists for the reader to make certain choices in the ways in which these scenarios unfold.

I am curious about the intentions of the author, however, due to the abrupt changes in plot lines. A screen will appear with a block of color that is somehow related to the story to come. For example, an all-black screen with a yellow bar that reads “gold” proceeds to lead into a story where the landscape is a shore with golden sand. Perhaps it is as simple as the author wanting to create a distinct barrier between each differing story line.

I understand that Krisztian felt that there was something left to be desired in Photopia, although I am a novice to almost all interactive text and enjoyed many of the elementary aspects of the program. However, I was deeply unimpressed by the lack of graphics and visual stimuli. In MBCBFTW, though I was disinterested in the story itself, I felt that it was greatly enhanced by the multimedia incorporated into the text.

Photopia does not seem to lend itself to a deep level of interpretation, especially since it seems intended for a younger audience. I felt that this was indicated by the fact that several words were defined for the reader of the text. Additionally, there’s very little that’s aesthetically stimulating about Photopia, as I mentioned earlier. It is an extremely simple, straight-forward presentation of text, with the only added creativity being the incorporation of different color schemes. It was almost like reading a book online (though one is able to interact with it personally) due to the large amount of narrative that will frequently pop up after a user command. The program also seems to act as a rudimentary video game, with the user collecting an inventory of items, such as a seed pod and a shovel.

Eventually, the game does exhaust its ability to be entertaining. It seems to become repetitive, even as different story plots emerge after “missions” are completed. Each story is a version of another story in which one must gather information, collect additions to one’s inventory, and complete some sort of mission. By the time I had come to a deadlock in the game, I felt like I understood the game well enough to understand its purpose as a source of interactive entertainment, rather than cyber art (i.e. MBCBFTW) or more complex hypertext, such as Hegirascope.

Coherence / Lialina

Focusing on: Can Coherence Be Saved?

An intriguing read, I tend to agree with the author on most of the points expressed in this article. One theme that is visited repeatedly throughout the text is the idea of hypertext vs. the standard novel. Will hypertext replace novels in the future? Games, hypertext and interactive CD-ROMS are given as examples how they compare to a standard novel but also how they will most likely never replace it.

As stated in the text, most readers “read on” to find out what happens next in a novel, moving linearly, page-by-page, the reader knows what to expect at least in terms of context of a novel. With hypertext and other forms of electronic literature, you have multiple forms as are outlined in the end of the article. Some forms of electronic literature as defined by hypertext immersion, go way off, leaving the reader lost, which in turn relegates that piece of literature to academic study and not for the masses. Spatial immersion would seem a better choice giving the reader some context and control over the text itself. Followed by emotional immersion, which is described allowing the user to choose different outcomes based upon his or her own personal interests.

I have to concur with the conclusion of this piece. Currently, people usually books when they want to read a story. I do not believe interactive textuality is quite there yet in terms of it replacing the book to tell a story. If history to judge, look at the recent products that are best sellers, such as Amazon’s Kindle or Sony’s eBook Reader, these products demonstrate that people still enjoy the concept of a book that can be read linearly. The next logic step may be to incorporate a type of interactive textuality within the pages of an electronic book; this would help to bridge the gap between a regular novel and selective interactivity.

Focusing on My Boyfriend Came Back from the War:

In Olia Lialina’s My Boyfriend Came Back from the War, the work itself has more context than Hegirascope in that the text and imagery relate to the title of the work. However, after the first viewing of this site it appears to follow the hypertext immersion model, as one can traverse multiple paths where one can easily get lost. Like Hegirascope, some paths lead to empty pages such as the following URLs: http://www.teleportacia.org/war/150.htm and http://www.teleportacia.org/war/152.htm.

Unlike Hegirascope, My Boyfriend Came Back from the War seems to differ in a few ways. First, the work appears to be black and white throughout the entire piece, where Hegirascope was a mixture of colors. Hegirascope is a simplistic online text in terms of what one can do with HTML. With My Boyfriend Came Back from the War, it utilizes the characteristics not found in Hegirascope. First, it used blinking text, where I do not recall seeing in Hegirascope- although I did not traverse every page on Hegirascope. Second, it uses images where Hegirascope only used text. Third is the use of frames in addition to allowing the user to traverse further by clicking in the frames themselves. Hegirascope was a set of standard HTML pages that one could traverse but it did not take advantage of any advanced HTML features.

Hegirascope took a different approach. There appears to be some sort of randomness accompanied with an automatic meta re-direct to the next page. Second, in some cases the text is the same color as the background. Third, the links around the text also seems to change if the same page is re-visited at a later time. My Boyfriend Came Back from the War is more interactive and coherent than Hegirascope in that the user controls his or her path through the work itself and need not worry about the page changing automatically.

My Boyfriend Came Back from the War – Hypertext as Relevant Art

In My Boyfriend Came Back from the War, Olia Lialina merges visual images and narrative to create a realistic mini drama in hypertext. The pages/frames are artwork that could stand alone without any text; the text could stand alone as free form poetry. Lialina’s choice of black and white amplifies the dramatic effect of the work and dually serves to symbolize the tension associated with the words/relationship of the lovers. Although after the third page the reader is offered more choices of links to click, regardless of the order in which they are selected and read, the meaning is the same. Each frame contains a fragment or piece of the narrative. Linear order is not essential to the meaning. This hypertext is representative of Marie-Laure Ryan’s jigsaw-puzzle metaphor. All of the fragments together – visual and text – complete the narrative picture. Unlike the obscure text of Hegirascope’s, the message of My Boyfriend Came Back from the War is clear. Anyone who has experienced the changes that result from long term separation from a lover can identify with this interactive narrative. The fact that the lovers were separated by war adds deeper dimension to the conflict and further magnifies the drama. The sequence of frames moving from simple to more complex and then to nothingness, visually maps the relationship from the boyfriend’s return until nothing is left. This is the first hypertext I have experienced that has emotionally moved me. According to Marie-Laure Ryan, emergent meaning produced through the interaction of the reader with the text that results in an emotional response is called emotional immersion. I am impressed by Lialina’s hypertext and her ability to emotionally connect with me. For me, this hypertext is poignant, relevant, and has redeeming value. My test for good literature: After investing myself and my time, am I a better person? After reading My Boyfriend Came Back from the War, I can honestly say that my time was well spent. Olia Lialina passed my good literature test and has dramatically changed my view of hypertext as relevant art.

Jabberwocky: Words and Meaning

Although it has been reiterated several times already, I will attempt to define the representational meaning of Neil Hennessy’s JABBER. The Jabberwocky Engine generates a collection of letters from the English alphabet which float seemingly aimlessly across a white screen. Over time, these black letters collide in order to create blue word fragments (some of which are real words, some are not) or red “garbage” words. Then, two word fragments combine to create green “nonsense” words. Despite the fact that the green words do not exist in the English dictionary, Hennessy is, in essence, using the medium of language as a figurative playground by randomly combining letters and word fragments that sound, at varying degrees, as though they could plausibly function as actual words. He deposes the meanings of words and breaks free from the establishment of language as it is manifested in our cultural consciousness.

The user, “scarterb,” brought up the interesting idea that Hennessy could be “commenting on the arbitrariness of the English language.” Immediately, it occurred to me that the words currently in the repertoire of my vocabulary all sound, in some way, like what it is to which they refer. I realize that this is an abstract idea and may be difficult for me to articulate well. I will try my best…

I am not sure if others share similar experiences, but I feel that words have a tendency to correspond with their intended meanings—perhaps due to masculine or feminine undertones in a word or, say, because of certain emphases on the vowels and consonants in a word. For example, the word “blossom” (as it relates to a flower opening) sounds (at least, to me) exactly like its meaning, whereas the verb “execute” sounds very severe and harsh—the opposite of the implications of a flower blossoming. “Shatter” also seems to harmonize with its intended meaning in that the pronunciation of the two ‘t’s sound almost like an object breaking. Hennessy may be toying with the notion of words and their common associations through JABBER.

It is my contention that Hennessy may be challenging the way we associate words with their meanings, although I do not think his purpose in creating JABBER is exclusively for this reason. He may also be indicating the ever-changing nature of language (i.e. how words become antiquated, and also how new words are added to a language as time passes.) Nonetheless, it is possible Hennessy is attempting to show how words can be separated from meaning and connotation. Perhaps he is attempting to break the traditional notions of the significance of words and how they are tied to their meanings. He may be proposing one or several questions, What is really in a word? What is the significance of a word? How do we mentally process the concept of words?

I realize that this is a rather grandiose and perhaps far-reaching opinion. I am also aware that there is an obvious problem with my argument in that, from a young age, we, as human beings, are indoctrinated with the meanings and connotations of words. Therefore, it is nearly impossible to tell whether or not words are, in some way, deliberately connected to that to which they refer. Most likely, a (rather infeasible) controlled experiment would need to be performed in order to even begin determining the validity of my opinion—or inquiry, one might call it. One may look to etymology, but it is not sufficient in this case for explaining how and why sounds are combined to create words. Nonetheless, it certainly piqued my curiosity when considering JABBER, its purposes, and the questions it raises.

“Orson Whales”: A Chaotic Amalgamation

Collectively, “Orson Whales”, “Jabber”, and “Firefly” are all pieces that can be considered to be forms of “new media”. However, the application of the term “new media” changes with each piece.

“Orson Whales” is a compilation of film, text, audio, and art. When combined, these various artistic mediums create a sort of performance art that is wildly unique. Technology allows them to coexist with one another, and therefore stimulate both the auditory and visual senses. Together, these several types of media extract a multi-sensory reaction from the audience (something that neither illustration nor text can do alone).

This chaotic amalgamation also illustrates the dynamic relationship between representational meaning and evocative meaning. On its own, the representational meaning of the text “Moby Dick” is obvious. The book is easily read on the surface level as a story about a whale. However when Orson Wells’ voice, Led Zeppelin’s lyrics, and Alex Itin’s art are all projected across the visual image of the text, the evocative meaning of the work becomes slightly more difficult to read. The book alone can be analyzed page by page; but analyzing the text, the song, the voiceover, and the art suddenly becomes an unmanageable task put forth by the “new media” compilation piece. Though the representational meaning of the text remains the same (as it has since its inception), the evocative meaning suddenly changes with the inclusion of multiple other interpretations. “Orson Whales” isn’t Orson Wells’ interpretation of the text, nor is it Led Zeppelin’s. Rather, “Orson Whales” is Alex Itin’s own reading of the renowned tale.

By using outside sources to help narrate his vision, Alex Itin brings into question the notion of artistic integrity. Who truly gets the credit? The piece in its present form could not exist without the contributions of Led Zeppelin, Orson Wells, or Herman Melville. Alone, Alex Itin’s illustrations would not be so easily recognizable as a visual reading of “Moby Dick”. Just as “Orson Whales” relies on the interactive relationship between multiple artists, so too do most other forms of “new media”. “New media” depends on the interaction of several different perspectives simply because it has transformed into a means of universal communication in a technological world.