Curtin Virtual Life 2

                Tom Boellstorff,in Coming of Age in Second Life: An Anthropologist Explores the Virtually Human, investigates the implications of living in what he terms the Age of Techne and its effects on identity and culture.  Boellstorff describes the design and purpose of his research highlighting the appropriateness of ethnography as a method which mirrors the project he is undertaking.  By “virtualizing” himself and inserting his avatar in Second Life he goes above and beyond Malinowski’s  injunction to “imagine yourself” in an unfamiliar place.  In this investigation he intends to show that, contrary to prior research, “Second Life culture is profoundly human.  It is not only that virtual worlds borrow assumptions from real life; virtual worlds show us how, under our very noses, our “real” lives have been “virtual” all along.  It is in being virtual that we are human: since it is human “nature” to experience life through the prism of culture, human being has always been virtual being” (5). Is this an accurate comparison? Does culture mediate actual words in a way synonymous with the mediation of a virtual world? To further delve into this complicated relationship between identity and the virtual world, Boellstorff examines three aspects of Second Life in particular: place, time and personhood.

                Far from diminishing the importance of place, Boellstorff highlights the ways that conceptions and predominance of place and visuality which predate the emergence of virtual worlds are transferred into Second Life.  For instance, he notes the uproar and argument over the visual blight of Zazzy’s store. Residents of Second life care about the appearance of their surroundings and wish to avoid any marring of their visual field, concerns which are common to actual world encounters even prior to Second Life.  This is just one symptom of the condition of virtual worlds both reflecting and going beyond aspects of the actual world.  Boellstorff remarks how very “real” second life real estate is in economic terms while simultaneously noting a departure from actual world constraints with an increasing the amount of available land, undercutting and complicating the actual world problem of scarcity.  The idea of place is further complicated with the introduction of virtual virtual landscapes such as the one Boellstorff describes encountering with Rhed, a large box, hundreds of meters in the air, depicting countryside scenes.  Complications such as these, according to Boellstorff “demonstrate the need for a theoretical framework that acknowledges the truly novel implications of virtual worlds without predicating their significance on their being different from the actual world” (101).

                Boellstorff marks a distinction between time and place in that time resists virtualization in a way that place does not.  This resistance is necessary however, to allow for synchronic sociality.  This was a key factor in making worlds seem like “worlds” as the majority of social interaction occurred between residents “inworld” at the same time.  It did however cause some problems, primarily with regards to what residents termed lag.  Boellstorff posits that “lag reveals how a problem with notions like “time/space compression” is that time resists compression in a way that place does not; the death of distance” does not correspond to a death of time” (102). Time in virtual worlds further undermined theoretical perspectives in the context of Afk (away from keyboard).  Traditionally, presence and immersion were two commonly used terms in scholarly literature on online sociality.  With Afk, one’s avatar could be “present” while the user was “away”, thus “Afk ethnographically demonstrates the possibility - indeed, the ubiquity- of presence without immersion. This decoupling of presence and immersion – the appearance of a gap between them – is one hallmark of the virtual” (112). What does it mean for one to be present but not immersed? What does this mean for sociality? Can it be fully excused by the unique cultural practices acknowledged by residents of virtual worlds?

                In his discussion of personhood, Boellstroff describes the difficulty in determining what constitutes the “real” person (is SL roleplay?, is the actual world role play and SL a reflection of a truer self?, is participation in SL making the actual more real?, etc.).  Boellstorff concludes that “just as it is possible to take virtual worlds in their own terms, so it is possible to take virtual personhoods in their own terms.  In both cases, the virtual is shaped in powerful ways by referential and practical relationships to the actual world, but these relationships help constitute the virtual self” (122).  Taking them on their own terms however becomes difficult when questions arise as to the meaning of outward appearance in a world where physicality is completely malleable and users can control multiple avatars, multiple users can control the same avatar or users can have any number of alternate avatars or alts.  Boellstorff challenges “any ‘supposition conflating online interaction with bodily transcendence’ and argue[s] for the reality of virtual embodiment” (134).  Gender, race, and disabilities all had implications in Second Life.  While one’s embodiment was not fixed it was still not free from consequences in the virtual world whether they were positively allowing for individuals with disabilities a wider social network unattainable in the actual world or negatively depicting racial stereotypes with last name selections, buildings, or user creations.

                Boellstorff mentioned frequently the need to take the virtual world on its own terms as related to, but separate from, the actual world.  Do you think it is possible to understand it in this way? Is the virtual world really a separate entity or does the overlap and actual world implications negate that possibility?  He also drew on the debate over the utilization of voice capabilities in Second Life, noting that some thought that the feature would make interactions more “real” while others believed it would destroy the sociality of the virtual world.  What do you think? What makes virtual interaction fulfilling? Would using voice instead of something like IMs destroy that?  As an adjunct to that debate, Boellstorff mentions the opportunity virtual sociality provides for individuals with disabilities. To what degree should such considerations factor into the design of virtual worlds like Second Life? Should their interests in particular be considered because of the unique opportunities such an experience affords them?  Lastly, Boellstorff discusses globalization and the linking of users worldwide in a common social space. Is this a positive means of connection?  What are the implications of such widespread use, especially with regards to time and synchronous sociality?

Palmer Internet 2

Facebook, a social network created by Harvard genius Mark Zuckerberg quickly expanded to a point where it has over 800 million active users. 4 percent of photos ever taken by the human race now are visible somewhere on facebook. In the book written by Daniel Miller, Tales From Facebook, he studies and examines 12 different people who all use facebook to fulfill a specific need which differ from case to case. Facebook is a free online service which in his studies realizes that it can have a large effect on people’s lives. Daniel interviews each of his test subjects and answers are very different from one person to the next. The test subjects were based out of Trinidad in his book.

It was demonstrated last class that most people have a facebook account, including every person in our class. Therefore most people can relate to the stories and interviews that are being written by Daniel Miller. But before certain cases are looked at, it is interesting to notice that none of the test subject are from the US but instead are all from overseas. Americans who have facebook can seemingly relate to other Americans, but looking at foreigners, it could bring up different things that are not usually seen in the US.

There were two cases in particular that I found interesting in relating their lives to facebook, Vishala and Aaron. They are both young people and reading their interviews and realizing what they think of and use facebook for in relation to myself was interesting to look at.

In the case of Vishala, it made me think of my identity, in other words how facebook allows people to see me on the internet. An example of this would be at a party or a get together with a group of people, someone always has a camera and is taking pictures. Some people just try to get in these pictures because they know they will more than likely make it onto facebook at some point and will be displayed in their profile and pictures. Its also easy enough, with the technology today, to take a picture of yourself and post it on facebook immediately from your phone or device to depict yourself in the way you would like to be seen. At the same time, it is just as easy to get rid of a picture on your facebook profile by simply untagging yourself, and there is even a security setting on facebook that makes sure your confirm that it is you in the tagged picture before it appears on your profile. It is all a comparison between your actually self and facebook self and trying to match the two identities.

In the other interview that I found interesting in looking at Aaron, someone who uses facebook mainly to communicate after school. It is interesting to look at this case because now a days there are so many forms of technology that allow for easy forms of communication. Growing up there was never facebook until my freshmen year in high school. I would use forms of messengers instead to communicate with friends and once and a while might use the phone. There was MSN messenger, yahoo messenger etc. Facebook makes communicating over the internet easier and amusing as well. You can post videos or pictures on another person’s wall and there is also facebooks own type of messenger that is used to talk with fellow friends that may be online at the same time as you are.

Facebook is a different view of oneself and after reading this book, facebook is used for a variety of different reasons which include communication and selling products along with playing games, etc. Not only in the US is this prevalent but as the book suggests, it is becoming a worldwide phenomena. Do you use facebook in any way other than communicating?

Bieg Internet 2

          In his book, Tales from Facebook, Daniel Miller explores the societal impact of Facebook in Trinidad.  As Miller explains in his preface, he believes this displacement from the reader’s usual setting will make the book more “effective at helping them consider the impact also on their own lives”(X). Just as Professor Pandian questions the “space” in cyberspace, Miller further explains that the internet and Facebook in general are defined not by any particular group but by “whatever any particular group of users had made it into.” He also believes Trinidad usage of Facebook is often not just distinctive but also ahead of others in terms of thinking of how Facebook can be used making it an ideal candidate to do anthropological research in.  What do you think of Miller’s interpretation of Facebook and the internet? Is there any way to define what cyberspace really is or is it just a matter of how a group uses it as Miller suggests?

In this first part of the book we reviewed Marvin, Vishala, Ajani, Aaron, Michael and Camille of the Elijah Ministries, and Burton.  I found Marvin to be one of the more interesting characters in this book because of the destructive nature Facebook seemed to be causing in his and his wife’s life.  According to Miller, Facebook seemed to have exacerbated the common suspicion in Trinidad of “horning” by Marvin’s wife as Miller points out that the site “creates this world in which you can so quickly and easily do more than just obsess about”(8) other woman that Marvin, in this case, would talk to.  I noticed this trend continued as Burton’s wife also commonly checked his Faebook, though not necessarily for the same reasons (118-119).  I also found it interesting that the term “friending” had an intimate relationship connotation prior to Facebook and how Marvin’s area (not the majority of Trinidad), and specifically his wife, still implies it in that sense when remarking Facebook, despite knowing there was no relationship (10). What do you think of this trend in Trinidad?  Do you think it applies elsewhere? Would you, or have you ever, allowed a significant other to monitor your online activity?  Was there a character in the first part of the book you found yourself relating to the most and if yes how so?

I also thought much of Miller’s book addressed this idea of connections discussed in the forum by Dr. Pandian.  Not just connections in between spouses like in Marvin’s case, but also in the way it was presented with Vishala and by the members of the Elijah Centre.   I believe Miller points out the distinct advantages in connecting online in summarizing Vishala’s (who often IM’s twenty people at a time) thoughts; “With IM on Facebook, no one else know what you are saying to each other…people are much more ready to say things, personal things…on Facebook than in everyday life…it’s not just easier to tell the truth, Facebook is in itself more truthful as an encounter with people” (48). Perhaps it is this aspect that allows groups like the Elijah Centre to create “unprecedented possibilities for transnational communication” as they use the internet “as far more effective way to get the Word out” (89).  I find this idea interesting and yet hypocritical to myself as I see the internet as an anonymous, less connective place by the mere idea that I can not physically see or hear the person I am speaking with and yet I can see how this forum can be used to effectively gain followers of a religious organization.  What do you think about the connectivity of Facebook? Do you find yourself more “truthful” and open online with individuals? Can you see the advantages and disadvantages of connecting with people in both a physicall setting and one set through social media online?

The second part of the book, chapter B, examined through 15 theses what Facebook may be turning out to be in general and global terms.  One of the essays that struck me as particularly strong, and is addressed more in the “Representation” blog of the Anthropology of Media forum is that “Facebook provides an additional space for personal expression, especially a more creative or extravert public presence, which may previously have been much restricted” (169).  The essay further expresses the importance of Facebook in terms of representation and connection when “physical disability (seen in Dr. Karamath, chapter 3) seemed destined to end that sociable life” (170) as well as the idea that “Facebook seems to have revived and expanded” communities (182).  Dr. Pandian also contributed much in the “Imagination” section of the blog that Miller also discusses.  Miller contends that “one of the most significant impacts of Facebook will be on an internal world of fantasy and imagination, where many people spend much of their time” (177).  Facebook rather than past imaginations like Second Life relying on anonymity, indicates an end to this anonymity (177).  I believe Miller sums up the purpose of Facebook best when he says “Facebook works best when used to compensate for the deficiencies or stresses of other forms of communication” (184).  What do you feel are the most important implications of Facebook and its effect on our future?  Do you agree or disagree with any of Miller’s thoughts on where Facebook is heading?  What are your thoughts and preferences of anonymity (or privacy) online? How has Facebook compensated for deficiencies in other forms of communication for you?

Schulman iPods 2

            In his book, Sound Moves: iPod culture and urban experience, Michael Bull studies the cultural icon of the iPod and its place in the urban milieu. His introduction outlines the “increasing mobility and privatization”(2) of sound, from the fixed Gothic cathedrals to the Citroen DS, to the Sony ‘Walkman’ and now the iPod. The iPod enables a personalized “soundscape”, through which we are “no longer prey to the whims of the corporate radio"(2).
            Bull goes on to discuss the distinctive nature of the urban milieu that seems to necessitate the use of a personalized music-player for the modern city-dweller. The city is a cold, anonymous place, both socially isolating and polyrhythmic. It is noisy, crowded, and rife with difference. How do contemporary urbanites cope with their simultaneous needs for proximity and privacy? The iPod of course. Living in a world of “mediated we-ness”, music substitutes our “utopian longing” for ‘direct’ experience with ‘an illusion of immediacy’(5).  The iPod on one hand saves us from feelings of social isolation and serves our contradictory need for privacy.
            Bull explains in the bulk of our reading for this week, how iPod users move through “shared” urban space, in a way that enables them to control their environment. Quotes from Bull’s interviewees often point to the polyrhythmic soundscape of the urban environment, rife with noises, unpleasant and irritating. The iPod allows users to “drown out extraneous noise”, both “transforming” and “managing” the “repelling nature of urban life"(30-31) Thus, in a social world, created through the combinations of a multitude of sounds, contemporary urbanites are eager for control and security, achieved in essence, through the isolation of the self from others in a personalized auditory bubble. 

            Not only have iPod users “transformed the public spaces of the city into private enclaves of saturated sound”(34), but they have also aestheticized it. The “chilly nature”(38) of the city has prompted iPod users to transform their realities into more satisfying, aestheticized space. The iPod, with its personalized playlists empowers the user to interpret his or her world, while simultaneously remaining outside it. Many users expressed this sentiment, of being an “invisible, floating observer,”(43) or existing in a personalized movie script, in which the world mimics their moods and rhythms. The notion of “experiencing the world as a movie script”(45) struck me as similar to the feelings of Dr. Pandian’s interviewees in his exploration of the effects of cinema on rural farmers in India. How has the language of media and mediation become second nature to our immediate experiences? The aestheticization process of iPod users reverses the phenomenon described by Kracauer whereby the urban subject is colonized by the “dominant rhythms of the city”. Instead, with one’s iPod, the “world is drawn into the users individual narrative”, creating a subject who as one user describes, is “much bigger and more powerful [when] listening to music”(48). What are the implications of this reversal? How do our perception of reality and the urban environment change when we become masters of the mediated experience, no longer “diminished subjects”?
            Lastly, in his chapter “Interpersonal sound strategies and iPod culture”, Bull discusses the collective use of iPods in automobiles, places of work, and the home. iPod users, despite being encased in their personalized “soundscape” must continue to negotiate interactions with others that are somewhat unavoidable in the urban milieu. How has the iPod changed our understanding of appropriate human interaction? Bull points to consumers’ increasing comfort with no communication in public, the desire to “get in and out” in every day life, as Jain notes (52). The power iPod users felt in conjunction with their ability to shape their urban “public space” and environment with the various moods of their playlists is also relevant in their interactions with others while wearing the dangling white wires. iPod users are empowered to “choose the terms and conditions of potential interactions"(58). This power has transformed the notion of sharing space-- “it no longer necessarily means the sharing of the same set of experiences"(61). What do you make of this view of contemporary urban culture as shared space but separate experience? Bull ends this chapter stating that the iPod can provide “new forms of social possibilities” but that it remains the “archetypal privatizing technology"(65). His conclusion delineates the ubiquitous mediation of the iPod users’ world, which in it contains the dream of immediacy, unmediated experience, and direct access to our experiences and emotions. The illusion of immediacy provided by the iPod helps us to reconcile our dream with the reality of our mediated sensorium.
            As I was doing this reading, interestingly enough in a crowded, noisy bookstore, I became distracted by a patron whose tonality and volume I found grating akin to Wes, one of Bull’s interviewees. Without thinking, I put my iPod on in order to simultaneously defocus myself from the distraction and refocus on my reading; plugging into my personalized soundscape was the only way I felt I could pay attention, even though my environment was now technically “louder” than it had been before. How has our notion of what is distracting and focusing changed with the advent of the iPod and a personalized auditory experience? Do you feel that the iPod culture Bull describes is in fact particular to an urban milieu? How would iPod use in a different, less anonymous, more homogenous environment be perceived? What is the place of silence in society now that personalized auditory bubbles have replaced it as “golden”, or is it no longer possible to have silence in an urban environment? Can you relate to the experiences Bull’s subjects describes? What about them seems foreign or familiar? What are the ultimate implications for the future of a “social world” that has become increasingly individualistic? 

Schwarzschild Telephones 2

The three pieces this week seem to be connected through a few themes; first of globalization and whether or not modernity is in fact globalized through the telephone; the second of the mobility through space and time; and socioeconomic splitting of society around mobile phones/language used.

In the article “Sex, Cannibals, and the Language of Cool: Indonesian Tales of the Phone and Modernity,” Bart Barendregt talks about how modernity may be introduced through mobile phones in Indonesia, but it is not necessarily the same modernity we have experienced in the United States or other countries and parts of the world. There may be a globalization of the cell phone, but this does not mean the globalization of a common modern society or community.

Indonesia’s modernity “has become equivalent to mobility” (160) in many senses of the word; physically, as you can take your phone with you almost wherever you go; socially, as you can talk to people from a distance, saving you a long travel; and socially through the easily spread, mobile media in the form of pictures, gossip, etc. Mobile technologies are geared toward the middle class, which only makes up about 9% of the country, because they can actually afford these relatively pricey phones. But this does not mean the lower class cannot get their hands on the latest technology. The middle class serves as “role models for Indonesians,” so many aspire to experience the middle class luxuries and lifestyles, including the mobile phone. The aspirations are what allow the black market to remake old phones and sell them illegally for less. These sold phones may have been stolen, or they may be reconditioned phones, made up of “cannibalized” parts of old or broken phones. Bart notes that even one vendor he spoke with referred to this cannibalism as literally “one phone eating the other more inferior one” (165).

The concept of the “New Muslim” came about in respect to Islamization and mobile consumer boom in the mid 1990’s and the “growth of the ‘Islamic chic’” (161). This term suggests that while the phone is new and the people of Indonesia are modernized through the mobile phone, this does not mean there is a new meaning to Islam or the Muslim himself, but rather it “relates Islam to a modern lifestyle,” claiming tradition and modernity do not necessarily need to be kept so separate, and “challenging the notion that the only way to be modern is through a Western model” (161). There are many examples of modernity and religion intertwined in Indonesia; the streaming voice message service Al Qaran Seluler, where divine verses of the Qaran are mediated through text and voic-message; the kiblah indicator which tells the “devout Muslim” which way to turn in order to face toward Mecca, complete with a “digital Qaran“ (162); and the religious “Hallmark” poem texts called pantun (166).

Barendregt also reviews the history of the mobile phone in Indonesia, which notes that even when the newer CDMA cell phones came out, the GSM phone was still much more popular because of its flashier outward appearance. “One is what one phones with” (163). Mobile phones are also particularly popular among students since the phone allows them keep up culturally with what’s “hot” and also with family and friends back home. The use of the cell phone seems to be dependent on age as well, which allows one to see a woman or man’s persona through their telephone use.

The major similarities between this article and Janet McIntosh’s “Mobile phones and Mipoho’s prophecy: The powers and dangers of flying language,” revolve around the use of language surrounding texts and voice-calls. In the Yogyakarta Region of Indonesia, Barendregt notes that the regional language of Javanese is the spoken language at home, but not what people use to text others. Slightly less formals or even slang forms like gaul are used instead. This informal language and somewhat romantic pantun has lead to openness about sex over the mobile phone as well, embraced by many youth sometimes to the point where they have created a sexual identity through the phone, and rejected by many elderly sometimes to the point where many have claimed phones to be haunted or bewitched (163). The phone is modern in and of itself, but it also circulates modernity differently in different places (168). McIntosh sees many similarities in language and sexuality in Kenya as well, specifically in the Giriama of Malindi. There are three central languages used; Kigiriama, Kiswahili, and English. Kigiriama is the “default language of ordinary conversation” between Giriama, and only used in text messaging in times of emergency, in regards to face-to-face social encounters, or to show respect for the person receiving the text (340, 346). Kiswahili is the first language of the Swahili people and the national language of Kenya, and is used for writing, in school, and more professional/formal situations. Lastly, English still seems to be language of “higher education.” Still, most text messaging seems to be a medley of all the languages, and even abbreviation and manipulation of the English language. This text language, “Sheng,” is used to distinguish oneself as hip and culturally up to date. Despite the adaptation of English into their mobile culture, the code-switching between languages and the shortening of English words is seen as a “means of ‘showing off’ that one is ‘modern,’ ‘developed,’ ‘fashionable,’ ‘Western,’” etc., and also means of “dominating the mobile phone” (342-343).

The elderly’s, and even some youth’s, perspective on the mobile phone is emphasized more in McIntosh’s article. The tale of Mipoho is a widely told cultural narrative in which the prophetess Mipoho prophesized that “a people as white as butterflies” would bring machines that slew through the sky and rolled across the land, and then the youth would abandon their elderly as well as their Giriama ways, “resulting in a disintegration of the moral and social integrity of the ethnic group” (339). It is with this story that the elderly proclaim the use of mobile phones dangerous and a “breed of witchery.” To the elderly, mobile phones have lead the youth to engage in sexual behavior beyond the elders control, and their code-switching texts indicate that they have “lost their way” (349).

The last article, “The Wire Devils: Pulp Thrillers, the Telephone, and the Action at a Distance in the Wiring of a Nation” by Robert MacDougall, was about the start of the telephone and people’s initial reactions. Macdougall explains how wires and “technologies of action at a distance” like railroads, the telegraph, and the telephone, have all seemed to scare us for the same reason; fear of a new power (716). In “wire thrillers” the wires seemed to take over humanity with their advanced technology, managing who can speak with who, etc. and this scared people. The telephone allows for a “reordering of space” where “island communities” are “absorbed” into one big national network (718). The local and near were challenged by the national and distant (718). There was only an “imagined community” existing among the nation without any phones or networking of the like (720). AT&T, one of the first national telephone networks, claimed that the transformation of this imagined community into a national network, was nothing to fear, despite all of the scary octopi and spider metaphorical illustrations of what a wired network really was (730). Instead of downplaying the magnitude of the wirey network, though, AT&T celebrated this new technology. They made the consumers look like the octopus; they were the ones “annihilating space” (732). Individual identity of section, region, race etc. were being intertwined by the networking of the telephone, which many people feared, especially with prejudices still alive, but this made individual identities “no less meaningful or evident on their own” (737). People would come around and see the good in the telephone, as it integrated the national economy. “The telephone changes the structure of the brain” a man once said. People began to imagine themselves within the national economy, and electronic media became the “cultural air we breath” (738). Macdougall puts it nicely at the end of his article: “Their fears are foreign to us today, not because they did not come true, but because they did” (738).

How do the fears of the elderly in Kenya or Indonesia compare to those of the people in the early ‘90’s Macdougall describes? What do you think about the fact that English is a part of the Giriama’s language, and that the use of it there is even considered more educational and learned? Is the mix up and manipulation of the language in text messages enough to make it their own? How does the use of language on our own text messages and phone calls compare to that of the Giriama or the Indonesians? What are the different American perspectives of the mobile phone, and how are they organized? By age? Wealth? Education?

Levine Medicine 2

This week’s articles focused on the mediation of medicine, and two themes that recur in these readings are seeking reassurance of normality and the effect of what we learn on how we perceive.




In Joseph Dumit’s article “Is it me or my brain? Depression and neuroscientific facts”, the author begins by stressing how neuroimaging techniques such as the PET scan allow unprecedented visualization of different “types” of brains, which presumably entail different “types” of people. Dumit is interested in the cultural and visual logics by which these images can persuade viewers “to equate person with brain, brain with scan, and scan with diagnosis. He suggests that when we read causality when we look at these types of different brain scan for different conditions, it in fact stems from out local culture (the example with the big toe). Dumit proposes an objective-self, which is the set of acts that concerns our brains and our bodies deriving from received-facts of science and medicine. He draws a distinction between these received-facts rather than just facts from the activity of translation, or mediation, which transforms the fact from one media to another. The proliferation of these brain scans used in the context of differences derived from other conditions (such as manic and depressive versus normal states) gives us the cultural common sense that two different behavioral states would have different brain states. He brings up the notion of identity politics with the example of Tracy Thompson, who conceptualizes her depression by seeing herself as a new type of person, a depressed person, with a different type of brain, a depressed brain. He concludes his article by proposing a particular kind of self he calls the “pharmaceutical self”, where as one takes psychoactive drugs to help oneself recover from one’s condition, one finds himself in a state of not normal, but better. In this way, mental illness is seen as sort of a pharmaceutical side effect.



Shigehisa Kuriyama’s article “Between Mind and Eye: Japanese Anatomy in the Eighteenth Century” introduces Sugita Gempacku, a Japanese physician, and his translation of a Dutch medical text into the Kaitai Shinsho. Gempacku uses the expression memboku o aratameru, “changing one’s outlook”, in which he calls for a fundamental rethinking of the nature and method of medical knowledge. This change is primarily perceptual, and it refers to a new way of seeing just as much as a new way of thinking. Gempacku asserts that previous failures of traditional medicine ultimately were a failure of vision, and although Japanese doctors had preformed dissections in the past, he saw the human body differently than they had seen it. In other words, we see what we are taught to look for. For example, the doctor Toyo postulated that the small intestine was a myth perpetuated by medieval physicians, even after performing dissections. Kuriyama holds that this difference in perception between Gempacku and Toyo were due to the texts that guided their seeing. Gempacku found that the Western anatomical pictures perfectly matched the cadaver, and Kulmus’s illustrations guided not just what Gempacku saw but how he saw, he acquired a new visual style. The Western anatomical illustrations were more faithful to actual human anatomy, and Shiba Kokan explains: “if..a picture does not faithfully copy an object as it really is, it loses this marvelous usefulness.” Interestingly, Kokan refers to the camera obscura as the epitome of the Western style of illustration, as a practically useful form of art. Have you had any experience that made you aware of how mediated vision actually is? Have you visually perceived something differently after learning to look for things you have not previously been looking for?



“Sonography and Sociality: Obstetrical Ultrasound Imaging in Urban Vietnam” by Tine Gammeltoft addresses the ways in which new reproductive technologies, such as the ultrasound, are introduced and consumed in developing countries, such as Vietnam. Previous studies have characterized ultrasound technologies as a male, medical, and technocratic takeover of pregnancy and birth, however Gammeltoft notes that this literature often ignores how the technology is actually consumed by its users. In Vietnam, ultrasound sound scans are very common, and Gammeltoft found that the average number of ultrasounds per pregnancy was about 6.6 for the over 400 women interviewed. One of the major differences in the consumption of ultrasound technology in Vietnam is the concern for safety: Vietnamese woman tended to not trust the safety of the technology, and often worried that the ultrasound was harming her fetus. Even through this fear and suspicion, the women reported that they still “had to go see”. Gammeltoft hypothesizes that this perception that ultrasound “must” be harmful may be due to Sino-Vietnamese medical theories, which stress the importance of bodily balances and sketches disease and illness in terms of disturbance. Despite their lack of trust in the technology, the Vietnamese women had many of these ultrasounds done in order to get reassurance that their fetus was developing normally. The women that were interviewed wanted to see how the fetus is developing manifesting in several scans, even though they thought these scans might be harmful. Gammeltoft attributes this to the concept in Chinese medicine of a body that is vulnerable to disorganization and in need of continued reinvention. The mistrust may stem from the proliferation of stories of pregnancies gone awry, and the sense that a healthy mother and baby is not guaranteed.



I found that one of the most interesting aspects of this reading is how unaware I was of the mediation of vision, of our actual visual perception of things and how it is changed by how we are taught to look at it. For example, I am a neuroscience major who has done many dissections in my required course load, and thinking about the human body in the non-Western aspects discussed in the readings (for example as a “liquid” body or envisioning our internal body structure as the traditional anatomical depictions in figures 1.1. and 1.3. of Kuriyama’s article illustrate), is almost alien to me. I find myself trying to convince me that I would never have seen the body in such ways, but my perception of the anatomy of the human body is probably due to the way that I have been taught. Is this change in perception ‘relearnable’? If I spent enough time with traditional Chinese and Japanese medical texts, do you think that this perception would replace my current one, or can these two modes of vision coexist simultaneously?



Both the Dumit and Gammeltoft articles dealt with the need to be assured of normality. There are patients that see the graphical contrast of normal and depressed brain scans and worry that there is something wrong with their brain and therefore themselves, and there are also Vietnamese mothers who repeatedly get ultrasounds that they feel may be dangerous in order to reassure themselves that their child is developing normally. The contrast between the normal and the abnormal has been discussed in class before (such as in relation to the episode of wife swap), but what is it about the need for normality that is so powerful that a mother would expose her fetus to what she suspects to be harmful technologies in order to find out if her child is normal?

-Matthew Levine

Ranagan Television 2

Abu-Lughod said it best; "more than any other form of mass media...television brings a variety of vivid experiences of the non-local into the most local of situations, the home" (Abu-Lughod, 377).  For over 50 years, televisions have brought stories from all across our world, and even fictitious worlds, into the homes and lives of countless people.  All this availability to television has raised a few questions worth asking.  Is there a need for censorship in television?  And how does it affect the creativity of the people responsible for making the shows on television?  Everyone is familiar with the beautiful actress, the handsome actor, the savvy producer, but who are the people who work to make these movies available to everyone?  Is there work any more or less significant to the entire process? 

Abu-Lughod talked about a popular Egyptian serial called "Hilmiyya Nights", which was a television series that followed the ups and downs of a normal Cairo neighborhood.  The show started in the 1940's and went up into present day.  It was extremely popular in Egypy, and was most closely related to the American Soap Opera.  Abu-Lughod stated that Hilmiyya Nights promoted "national unity" because it was the first time the Egyptian people were able to easily relate with the show.  The show's main objective was to give the country a modern history lesson, the good and the bad history.  There were things such as war, drugs, and raids depicted in the show, and many politcal parties sought to censor some of the material from the public.  Do these parties have the right to be doing this?  I understand in American culture things like vulgar language and nudity are censored on national television, but it does not seem right to leave out key parts the history of a country just because some political parties don't want the public to be aware of what has gone on

Vicki Mayer introduced the notions of "producers as creatives" and "sponsoring selves".  Mayer took a trip down to Manaus, Brazil, located in the heart of the Amazon, to meet with factory workers that assembled televisions.  She met a very short woman named Terezinha, who worked at a technology company with technology rights for Mitsubishi Electric.  She put all the electrical units into televisions and stated "I did everything that goes into the TV and gives it life" (Mayer, 35).  She is paid at a much lower salary that the owners of the factory, but has more of a hands on responsibility to every television than most people at the company.  There are so many people that are integral in the process of making and selling TVs and most of their hard work goes unseen.

Mayer's second article talked about the new age of reality TV casters and their jobs as workers who are "sponsors" in the new TV economy.  Reality casters differ from regular TV casters, as Mayer states, because they need to distinguish between the performer and performance, and need to find something specific in each character.  These reality shows have gained popularity mainly because it is supposed to show a real life interaction between people.  Shows like "The Jersey Shore" are an example of this success because it gives the audience a sense of a different way people live their lives.  But how "real" are these reality shows?  One can argue about what is and what is not staged in these shows, but ultimately when you watch a reality show, you get a sense that you're not just watching something acted out, but that you are just watching how friends interact during their daily routine.

St. Andrew Television 2

In reading Lila Abu-Lughod’s piece, I found myself asking: why is it that in the US, soap operas focus on materiality and the human psyche whereas in Egypt, soaps focus on educating the culturally illiterate and transforming society into a socialist one, encouraging nationalist thought? Muhammad Fadil, a prominent Egyptian director, maintained that in a third world country, television “should not simply entertain” but “eliminate cultural illiteracy,” especially in poorer areas. In Egypt, dramas became the most popular genre on TV and, in order to eliminate cultural illiteracy, soap operas such as Hilmiyya Nights incorporated modern Egyptian history, “social and political commentary,” and moral themes into story lines. On the other hand, the American soap opera, The Bold and the Beautiful, (which was imported to Egypt) portrayed men and women in lavish houses and clothes dealing with problems such as cheating husbands and “taboo sexual relationships” in Western culture. In both the Egyptian and American soaps, the characters lived wealthy lifestyles—lifestyles that the majority of Egyptians only imagined: it depicted wealthy upper class society and their problems—which is not an accurate reflection of the majority of the Egyptian population. Nonetheless, lower class citizens who watched the show found pleasure in them. Even though they could not relate economically (or relate to problems characters faced) did they find pleasure in seeing how the other half lives? Why is it that Egyptians, and even people all over the world, are entertained by lifestyles, goods, and scenarios that are impossible for them to have for their own?

In Vicki Mayer’s piece on TV manufacturing laborers in Brazil and Korea, Mayer brings up an interesting point: much like television producers (recall those of Egyptian soap operas), these laborers make TV—but in a physical sense rather than a visual and creative way. However, producers are able to create freely whereas the laborers creativity was only allowed if it benefited the factory.  In other words, if a worker’s creativity “assisted the production process” he would be rewarded. Factories used their workers to get practically free insight for new innovation but it also allowed laborers to break their daily routines and exercise creativity encouraged by the factory. In some cases however, as in Sueli’s and Aline’s, creativity was seen as a “personal problem” or “subversive and a threat to a work hierarchy grounded in gender and racial differences.” In a moral perspective, how is this exploitation justifiable?

Consider Abu-Lughod’s piece in relation to Meyer’s work: how can we compare the creativity of laborers, who work for below minimum wage, with TV producers who incorporate social and political aspects in current events? This clear class divide raises another question: how can anyone say whether or not a person’s creativity is valid or not? Mayer’s argument on the validity of laborer’s creativity is an answer to a producer’s target of a specific audience: “laborers…excel at the art of identifying potential new sources for profits.”

Sax Cinema 2

With the introduction of film into mainstream society, many were amazed by this seemingly recreated version of their own lives. As Dr. Pandian showed in class, during the early film “L'arrivée d'un train en gare de La Ciotat“ viewers couldn’t even distinguish the fact that this film was not a real, tangible piece of life, and thought that the train would hit them. This week’s articles examined this unique capacity of film as a medium to elicit strong emotions of spectators.

Kracauer discusses the physiological effects of watching a film. The nature of watching a film first lowers our consciousness, as we are sitting in a dark room with stimuli limited to the film in front of us. This loss of consciousness is not by chance, but because the spectator craves “for once to be released from the grip of consciousness, lose their identity in the dark, and let sink in, with their senses ready to absorb them, the images as they happen to follow each other on the screen” (Kracauer, 159-160). As we let go of our identities and become immersed into the film, we become vulnerable to the filmmaker’s intentions, and often to forms of propaganda. While we watch and experience a film, we are at the same time being drawn to the cinematic world in front of us and being drawn into our deeper psyches, examining ourselves in relation to the characters on screen: who they are, who we could be.

Both Dr. Pandian’s article and Rutherford’s articles explain the lengths to which filmmakers go to achieve the entire feeling of the film that they had envisioned. This may involve finding the perfect set, the perfect actors, the perfect location to shoot, or the perfect soundtrack. While Pandian discusses the search for continuity between these landscapes and expected mood of the film or the “affective autonomy”, Rutherford explains Nowhere To Hide’s innovative approach to style and emotion in film. By doing unexpected things with editing, shots, music choices, and temporality, Lee Myung-Se creates a “kinetic energy” (Rutherford, 167). The atypical framing and unpredictability of the shots creates a visceral experience and a “hypnotic sensory reverie” (167).

These articles examine how and why a film can take us for an emotional ride, both letting us abandon our identity and dive into it. I began to think about the types of movies that are like Nowhere to Hide, versus typical Hollywood hits. Why do we often choose conventional, predictable movies rather than ones that are innovative and will make us experience a new type of spectatorship?

I also think it’s interesting to look at how our attention spans have changed. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like I rarely sit and watch a full movie, especially in theaters or in total darkness. I’m usually watching one while I’m online, talking to friends, looking at blogs, etc. How does this change the way we identify with films, when we are no longer immersed in them enough to lose ourselves? 

Goodrich Photography 2

I learned very quickly that there are far more aspects to photography than I thought. Photography can be used very differently and it can be interpreted very differently.  At first I agreed with Pinny and thought that it was impossible to know who people are by a photograph but the more I thought about it I felt otherwise.  Spraque makes some very good points using the examples from the people in western Africa about how some photos have less truth than others. I found Crarys piece to be very confusing but I think it is important to have a base as far where photography comes from.

             Crary gives us a deep analysis into vision and how it has an effect on photography.  It discusses vision as is was understood from back in the 1820’s which makes it a little hard to follow.  The concept of the observer is largely stressed and raises a good question as to how much the observer of the photograph matters to the photograph. Spraque talks about West Africans using photography to depict themselves the way they want to be depicted. Setting up the photo and posing for it. By doing this the photo isn’t a true glimpse of what these people are like, rather a depiction of how they want to be viewed.  This does not give a very accurate view of the truth. Even though we can learn some about these people and their culture through these photographs, we still do not have an accurate idea of what life is like for them. Pinny goes into this idea of the truth being displayed in a photo.  The piece talks about how we want a linguistic explanation on what the picture means.  The picture alone is not enough.  It is this urge that makes photography unable to be trusted.  The interesting concept posed of how different a bunch of still shots from a movie look if one had not seen the movie. The idea of bringing up an actually memory rather than using the photo as the only info you have. One cannot make assumptions as to who someone is just based on their facial expression in a photo.  But then again can you see what kind of person someone is through a photograph? How true are photographs? Can we use photographs as a way of gaining information or should they simply be left to just bring up memories?

Goodman Video 2

Alexandra Juhasz says, “YouTube is not democratic. Its architecture supports the popular. Critical and original expression is easily lost to or censored by its busy users who not only make YouTube’s content, but sift and rate it, all the while generating its business.” Her statement sounds obvious; I am aware of trending videos and current YouTube celebrities, or at least of their existence. What I have previously overlooked, though, is the societal effects of such a popularity contest. While the service seems to be harmless on the outset, does it in fact create a culture too satisfied with the mainstream?

           Youtube’s system of ratings and recommended videos effectively leads us to videos enjoyed by others. While this makes our user experience less taxing and perhaps more entertaining, it also contributes to the spread of negative stereotypes. Juhasz shows this by way of the popular portrayal of the black community. She says, “the most popular videos about black people reflect and reinforce the standard views of our society (about black hyper-sexuality, low-intelligence, and gonzo-violence)…” This is especially evident in a video made by one of her students (http://vectors.usc.edu/projects/learningfromyoutube/texteo.php?composite=42&tour=8). YouTube relies on users to “flag” content they think violates YouTube’s Terms of Use in order to be reviewed by Terms of Use staff members. While many of the videos portraying the black community do not violate Terms of Use, many people consider them offensive. YouTube encourages users to simply not watch videos they don’t like, but the rating system can encourage the watching of distasteful material if it is popular enough. Should YouTube manipulate the ratings system in order to demote offensive stereotypes?

         YouTube’s slogan is “Broadcast Yourself,” which encourages anyone and everyone to put their own media content online. As discussed previously, much of this content goes relatively unseen, unless the content is deemed popular by its users. Juhasz coins these unseen videos part of “NicheTube.” She says in a self-made video, “NicheTube functions by the rule of originality, critique, difference, and zaniness, and our work has little to no relation to the standards, conventions, interests, and winners on YouTube, which much be hegemonic and corporate.” Does it matter that these "outside the box" videos are hard to find? Do you actively seek out any “niche” videos? Have you posted any “niche” videos? How do you think they affect the YouTube-watching community as opposed to more popular videos?

               

         YouTube is a for-profit business, especially since becoming a subsidiary of Google. It makes money by way of product advertisements and partnerships with media corporations. For example, the YouTube homepage is currently donning a banner advertisement for ABC’s new drama, Pan Am, and an advertisement for State Farm Insurance plays before Justin Bieber’s “Baby” music video. Does it make a difference that YouTube is tied to other corporations? Would any of these relations drive you to not use the service? Is it fair that many of the most viewed video slots are “taken” by the music videos of media corporations?


-Paulina Goodman

Appel Radio 2

The influence of radio is far beyond our scope of knowledge. For a device that seems only to talk at us, radio creates an experience undoubtedly affecting everything from our daily rituals to our perceptions of our experiences. Radio is a powerful form of media that creates an intimate experience, affects emotion and perception of external events, and widespread captivation through a domestic experience.

Jo Tacchi notes the domestic atmosphere that listening to the radio creates. The listener can feel an intimate relationship with radio.  Despite the fact that a wide array of people listen to the radio, listeners often feel as though they are being singled out and directly spoken to. I often feel like this during advertisements, particularly ones in which the DJ reads a script about a particular product. I specifically remember one advertisement when DJ was talking about dog food. Although she was only marketing the dog food, she spoke about her personal routines after work, her own dog, and her general concern for her dog’s health. During the commercial, I felt as though she were directly talking to me, as I was driving to work and she sat in a studio probably 30 miles away. I found the commercial really effective in the way that they created this imaginary conversation (silent on my part) between the listener and the DJ.

The radio can be effective in that way: it convinces the reader that the communication is not, in fact, one way and that the radio is not talking “at” you, but rather conversing with you. How do you think radio builds that relationship, or trust, with listeners? Does the intimacy of radio stem from their manipulation of the audience or our submission due to the “domestic” environment?

In radio’s ability to connect with us and create an intimate experience, it also affects our emotions and reactions to the external world. Kaplan notes how Israel radio is able to communicate new stories and celebrate holidays by playing music of a particular mood.  More than anything, Kaplan stressed how the radio acts to “shape a national culture.” He explained that beyond a private experience, radio can be used differentiate the significance of current events and unite citizens through shared emotions. Something as simple as playing only a mildly sad song can devalue the importance of a recent news story and place people at a similar interpretation of an event.

In Tacchi’s article, however, she did not discuss the functionality of the radio as much as the relationship formed with it. She describes the radio as a “friend” and as a tool for a “soundscape,” creating a ritualistic texture in the listener’s life.  In this way, Tacchi embraces how each person has their own subjective view of the radio: she noted how everyone observed, or listened, to the same noise but experienced it differently. Do you think that Kaplan would agree? When Kaplan says “public mood,” do you think he acknowledges the loose definition of public and variety of experience?  To what degree can radio unite as a public or a nation?

Likewise, in David Bathrick’s article, he discusses the captivation of a “national audience” through the radio program “Wunschkonzert.” Superficially, both Tacchi’s and Bathrick’s articles note “domesticity” and “networking private and public experience.” Bathrick’s purpose of domesticity defers from Tacchi’s though. In the context of Bathrick’s argument, the Nazis strove to create the domestic environment to transform the aggression of war “into the solidity of a deeper kind of Volksgemeinschaft.” In sum, Wunschkonzert served as an environment of moderation that did not challenge the status quo or encourage intellectualism. Domesticity does not imply comfort in this case, but rather intellectual simplicity to relate to the greater German population. Wunschkonzert’s domesticity was an indication of censorship and manipulation to paint a modified picture of social and political life. Currently in the US, the FCC regulates the radio stations. Would you argue that the FCC encourages the domesticity that Bathrick describes, one of censorship of harsh realities, or that Tacchi describes, one of simplicity and comfort? Which domesticity do you experience most when you listen to the radio (depending on the type of station)?

Martynec Newspapers 2

Anderson’s argument can be summarized in one basic sentence: “the convergence of capitalism and print technology on the fatal diversity of human language created the possibility of a new form of imagined community, which in its basic morphology set the stage for the modern nation” (46). While I certainly agree that the public could be seen as an imagined community—boundless and endless in nature—I struggle with the idea that print has everything to do with national communities. Without print media, would our ability to present ourselves as a community really be impossible?

I found myself accepting Anderson’s definition of a nation (limited, sovereign, community). I nodded along as he explained the decline of script languages, the critical conception of temporality, and the society based around something other than “high centers”. I understood how the change in character of Latin, the Reformation, and the spread of vernaculars all influenced the thrust of print capitalism. However, I think Anderson ultimately jumps to the conclusion that the imagined community exists as a platform for the modern nation.

What about ancient Greece? A region characterized by fragmented geography resulted in a politically, socially, and culturally disjointed state. The geopolitics of the region led to the creation of small city-states, such as Sparta and Athens. It seems hard to imagine that a self-sufficient polis such as Athens—a state with a functional direct democracy, a strong community, and a free-learning education system had no feeling of national pride. Following his conviction, Socrates suffered and died in an Athenian prison instead of escaping to a neighboring city-state because his loyalty to Athens was more important than his life. This example of national identity seems to challenge Anderson’s idea of a nation state—most had equal access to knowledge and men were able to share their thoughts and opinions in Assembly, much like the salon and parlor forums.

Perhaps national identity is not predicated on print capitalism and the evolution of newspapers, and it is actually the other way around. Maybe when ancient Greek states were able to conquer geographical fragmentation and interact regularly with other states, national identity became boundless and sought a mode of unification. While it is possible that this thesis proves too idealistic, the ability to even form a new possibility seems to weaken Anderson’s argument in my eyes.

Peterson clearly distances himself from Anderson. He writes, “my account complicates Anderson’s model by drawing attention to the ways newspaper rituals become elements in the construction of personal and group identities” (180), it seems as though his work is more of an extension of Anderson’s thesis than a differentiation. This extension, though, is something I ultimately agree with. I do believe the printed form of language and the relation between time and space is something that ultimately dictates a societal position. People are influenced by the written word and the news to which they are privy. They grasp onto things that allow them to propel themselves into different social spheres.

An interesting synthesis of Anderson and Peterson’s work might be the concept of news stories creating patriotism. In instances of tragedy people grasp on to news and personal anecdotes written in newspapers or online and aired on television. In these cases, the newspapers are not creating a national identity, but they strengthen national ties and pride. Do you think there is a difference? In what ways do you think patriotism, nationalism, and pride relate to the news? How would Peterson and Anderson view the strengthened American pride following tragedies such as September 11^th and Hurricane Katrina? 

Hooley Mediation 2

Blog Entry on Mediation for Section 2 by Ian Hooley

The technological revolution of the past century has not only succeeded in overhauling our lifestyle but our perception of reality itself. Media, by default existing in the middle of this rapidly-changing world, has not only provided insight into worlds far unlike our own but allowed us to re-examine the very world we live in ourselves. Dr. Pandian notes in Popular Tamil film and the remaking of rural life that the attitude of certain villagers towards themselves (and particularly the troubles of the younger generations) in the Cumbum Valley appears to co-depend upon the portrayed cinematic reality and the actual everyday life of the area.

This led me to wonder what De Zengotita’s reaction to this would be—Zengotita argues that over-mediation has anaesthetized us to deeply-problematic issues such as AIDS, yet Dr. Pandian observed that cinema seemed to help villagers overcome hardships and view their lives under a different light. To what extent would you argue that this vicarious living through cinema of the rural villagers supports Zengotita’s pseudo-cynical stance that media is blurring our perceptions of reality?

It was Goethe who once said “what we perceive by the eye is foreign to us as such and need not impress us deeply”. Benjamin, arguing that both the cultural and geographical ‘aura’ of an artpiece along with the features such as texture are what define it as unique (non-reproducible to the masses), would likely agree with Goethe. Simply viewing a painting is not nearly enough to impress—it appears as though a range of sensory information and mental processing are necessary to achieve vitality within a piece of art, and that mass mediation could potentially foster the loss of this supposed ‘invisible life’ of a painting (Benjamin points out the history of ownership as an example of what could be lost through mediation). Do you agree with the argument that mere ocular perception of art (namely via mass media) is not enough to truly understand its significance?

Magritte’s renowned painting of a pipe with the French subscript Ceci n’est pas une pipe (hyperlink below), is a symbolic representation of artistic acknowledgement that painting is not reality. Painting, a form of media itself, in this instance is used to encourage audiences to reflect upon the effects of media upon our vision reality. It would be easy for one to look at a painting of a pipe and say ‘that is a pipe’, yet Magritte points out he would be lying if he said “This is a pipe” due to the fact one could not stuff it with tobacco. Paintings themselves in the debate of mediation seem to be largely ignored— the articles we read reflected upon the extent to which the photographing and reproduction of paintings have changed perceptions of the paintings themselves but not the fact that the paintings are media representations of reality in the first place. Do you believe that the atmosphere of the original scene of a painting (whether it be an imaginary setting in the artist’s head or real) can be truly conveyed via the media of painting? If so, could the ‘aura’ of the original scene of the painting be carried through a reproduction of the painting itself even if the painting’s aura was not conveyed?


Hyperlink to Magritte’s painting: http://enculturation.gmu.edu/3_2/images/magritte1.jpg