This page is no longer on this server…
The theorist George Landow, writing on Hypertext, urges us to forget the usual conceptual elements which hold language together and, instead, use new substitutes ‘such as multilinearity, nodes, links, or networks.’ Elements of syntax - and, when, so, or - are now converted to a range of physical manoeuvres: mouse up, mouse over, mouse down etc. A click now links us to our mediated world.’
In this new world the internet is often described as a virtual landscape without a horizon but, with the average lifespan of a website measured in months rather than years, in practice it has surprisingly many broken links/dead-ends. Although the web links us to snapshots of ‘history’ in unlimited supply, it has no memory - just a post saying ‘this page is no longer on this server…’ When going ‘back’ is really going sideways, we can only link, in endless configurations of synchronicity, to the present.
This change to narrative structures is not a new phenomena; technology has always influenced the way we visually navigate our world. The narratives of story telling, songs and pictograms were gradually outmoded by the technological developments of the 19th Century. Walter Benjamin, writing at the time, describes a moving away from the traditional links of language - the narratives of story telling etc. were being replaced by the mechanically reproduced image which, like ‘mini explosions’, were displayed as photographs, cinema clips and so on.
Perhaps the link on the webpage is today’s mini explosion – each click takes us into a new realm: a new page, image or sonic experience. Web designer Peter Luining has created a site, clickclub, which is without content except link buttons, another web artist recently produced a faux porn site where, upon entering, you are shown a provocative image of a naked body with the genitals covered by a link button. Each time you click on the button you open another window with increasingly fractured images of naked bodies and more buttons…. You never get to the fully naked body. On this site, the frustration is two-fold, it reminds us of how we consume the visual image and how, like channel surfing, the link has become the fetish itself… constantly zapping to capture what we might be missing.
The question we ask; in our broadband, Wi Fi, Bluetooth linked world; is there anything left to miss?…
Escapade Solitude
Apart from all the negative and positive connotation to the various terms thrown up in the article above, which we could argue forth and back already, I appreciate the views expressed in it. However I am not too happy about stating things and leaving the mentioned in the open without creating context around it. So I cease the opportunity to create (my) context.
The internet, as it seems to be the main focus of the statement, has its context - with positive and negative sides (who’s to judge?) - and is not just an accumulation of links. It is not simply clicking for the sake of instant reward and it is not some ‘space’ inhabited by nerds and shopping fanatics and ebay junkies. The internet is a platform, providing us with tools of incredible power, but only as long as we switch it off again. To draw a reference: I grew up with a TV in the house and although my parents never told us to, it never was and never will be a problem for me to switch it off. Neither TV nor Internet is to blame for the superficial surfing of its users rather than diving deep into a subject matter.
Why do I state the obvious? Because, funnily enough, it is not obvious anymore. I think the phenomenon of our strange electronic addictions (internet, TV, mobile phones, . . .) is to be seen in the wider context of our society. The article above is closely interlinked with both other blogs (about design politics and the slow society) and all of them have the same roots. I will go out on a limb here and say that we - as society - are currently missing the point of ourselves. (society = western society, the one that has access to all those tools to make this a better place, and also there are exemptions). I should really leave it right there and wait for hate-mail, but I will try to justify my statement a little.
We all know that life seems to speed up. We have access to many more things, we can travel everywhere, we call ourselves a global community, we are constantly connected. Life in London is a good example for that. It is extremely fast, it is extremely fascinating, it is full of cultural excitement, it offers a lot of attraction and also distraction. Great! Well - ok - there are high living costs, but we can put up with this (for the moment at least). So one starts to soak it up, to be involved, to know what is going on, to follow and dismiss trends, to interact, to connect and it is great, and it is exciting. There is energy, there is ‘a vibe’, there is a committed community! Although this may sound cynical, it actually is not! It is the most important thing one should go through if interested in urbanity and the life in it. You cannot, and if you want to survive will not, switch off. Also, there is no time to switch off! Possibilities are endless, and one is drawn from flame to flame. All these flames are energy which give you more insight and let you shine even brighter.
(For all the ones who have not gone through anything like it yet: Stop reading here! Everything that comes now could be used as an excuse for you to stay put and not engage. And consequently you will never experience the fascination of pace and cultural density!)
A slightly more critical look at the scenario mentioned above: In a high-energy environment like this, one starts to shine. The question is though: Am I really an energy source myself or am I merely reflecting other light sources, maybe adding a little bit to the overall glow. Am I swimming, or am I drifting with the flow. In order to find this out one has to seek distance. One has to disengage, disconnect and place oneself into a certain nothingness.
‘Escapade solitude’, as I would call it.
Human beings are social beings. And if you give them the means to connect to each other, they will use them. And it is good. But great things come from solitude. Great appreciation for community comes from solitude and it is in solitude that you take the time to work on subjects and issues yourself think are important. A great typographer, who lives quite far off the cultural ‘hot spots’, once told me to slow down and take enough time to prevent sedimentation of information from happening. I thought about this statement a lot in recent times and noted quite a few things, which distract me and don’t allow me to focus. The internet, email, mobile phone and TV are certainly part of it, and it is difficult to disengage. Solitude (not to be taken literally, but contextually - deliberately slowing down is, in this context, also solitude) is not an instinct, but it is a necessity. It needs to be learned and practiced. It can be done in any context as long as you’re able to switch off yourself. Don’t expect the TV to do this for you!
/Paulus 29/06/2005