Thursday, October 16, 2014

Instantaneous Communication: A 3x3 Window on a Fast Moving Train

Is the internet to blame for a major shift in humankind's communication methods? Originally, we were visual creatures. Messages were shared through hand motions. Using earth-derived paints, we drew pictures in sand and carved caricatures into stone. Next, we developed language. Now we could tell stories with symbols and sounds. Through language, our culture changes from perceiving ideas via movement to comprehending concepts through the shapes of symbols or letters. For centuries, the power of the written word controlled our societies. Those privileged enough to be literate and have access to texts, those who truly understood the publications of Kings and Gods and Lords and Landowners, had the advantage of interpreting such as they chose and filtering what was passed down to the illiterate masses.

The development of the printing press was perhaps more a tool for democracy than any other technological advancement. Suddenly, the illiterate masses could own books and even learn to read and interpret the text in which their newly acquired books contained. Language was power and books were a means of rebellion. Not only did words mean something, they meant a lot.

The internet was, once upon a time, a space for words. We logged into read live journals, message boards, wikis, blogs, and even *gasp* live-breaking news! People, anyone with access to the internet, had a platform to say whatever they'd like, and we, as readers, could find those words and read it all. The internet emerged as the place in which people, all people, could speak.

Say, three years ago, blogging reached what I fear will forever be its peak. I decided to go public and created a space to channel the thoughts keeping me up at night into words. Strange thoughts about punk boys and getting older, important ideas addressing feminism and the contents of the Millennial generation. I came here, wrote, and expelled. You, my readers, would actually read those thoughts. Those ideas. And, then, my time would come and I would read yours. In that odd pixelated way, I feel we knew each other. I felt we truly connected. There was so much comfort in knowing that you simply exist.

Blogging gave way to microblogging and we learned to speak less freely, more compactly. Twitter rewarded us for being clever and to the point, for being witty and curt. Although I appreciated the challenge, I longed for the verbosity of blogging. So often it's not the conclusion of the story that matters, but rather the manner in which our prose winds and tangles upon reaching that end. Sometimes, the journey is the story and the destination is quite dull, but at least we grew in getting there. Twitter doesn't understand that part about me about anyone.

Just as blogging paved the evolution of microblogging, microblogging gave way to visual microblogging. Fuck words. Use a single image. A picture is worth a thousand words, right? Or is it? You can scroll past hundreds of photographs in mere seconds, absorbing it all in entirety at the speed of light. That's the whole phenomenon behind Instagram: it is instant. However, when something becomes instantaneous it sacrifices its comprehensibility, its completeness. Instagram is a 3x3'' window on a fast moving train. Do you truly understand anything discovered through a window? If a train moves through Oslo going 100mph while passengers stare through a tiny plexiglass square, were the passengers ever really in Oslo? Did they see enough to accurately say they have seen the city? Did they come to understand anything about that place through such a journey?

I fear that eventually, visual microblogging will give way to a whole culture that communicates solely through pictures and emojis and abbreviations. No longer will humans greet each other with a verbal "Hello." We'll instead project an image of a hand waving in front of each others' faces. The punchline of your jokes will not conclude in a cascade of a laughter, but a projection of crying smiley faces. Maybe we'll use sign language to spell out the letters R, O, F, and L, separately like that to emphasize the abbreviation.

Shouldn't the future excite us? Why then, does the very prospect of veering away from written language depress me so? Are visuals a more efficient way of communicating? Perhaps my opinion has something to do with the way in which I, in particular, communicate. I find myself lost within the transition from words to images. I want to talk it through. I structure my thoughts in complete sentences and blocks of prose. I find comfort in hopping from point A to point B in my own head with an audience watching.

Click. Another picture of a face captured, but behind every selfie exists a brain containing so many complete sentences. That's the side of people we ought to know and relate to. Yep, that inside globby bit. Otherwise, what's the meaning of all this? What's the purpose of technological experiences when there's no level of humanity behind them?

Anyways, how retro is blogging? So quirky. So charming. Bloggers have so many feelings. I have so many feelings. Well, isn't that cute?