This Is Not.

This improv comedy genius blew my rhetorical mind the first time I saw him perform.

Understanding Comics is an interesting approach to defining the line between what is art and what is writing.  Often, these two concepts intertwine, but we get hung up on our strange word associations that create boundaries for *clean* interpretations.  I particularly liked chapter 2, where McCloud breaks down the fact that nothing is really what we say it is, especially if it is represented on paper.  The fact that "this is not a pipe" and "SPLAT is not a sound" is simple enough to understand, but still a huge concept.  Reaching back to some of our earlier readings, the realization that things are not at all what they seem to be reinforces the idea that we are living in a somewhat simulated environment--a matrix.  However, it's a pretty realistic simulation; one that we would probably all buy into if we weren't exposed to a constant stream of theories that try to debunk our worldly construct.  And that makes me wonder, in light of Alex's post last week...is it rhetorically responsible to debunk our matrix?  Or is it irresponsible to take the world apart without really knowing how to put it back together?   Oddly, this question is also asking, do we stay put and learn to be satisfied, or do we venture into the unknown, ignorant but hopeful that we can create a better construct? 

McCloud's book itself is a super cool concept, but an acquired taste, especially for those of us that never read comics.  I made it to page ten, reading every word on every page, and then my eyes drifted to read only the pictures until about page 20.  I probably missed some things like definitions, but overall I don't think I missed a whole lot of content by ignoring the words.  This is one example of proving whether or not art can be writing; if I can summarize roughly the same amount as someone who read all words and no pictures, then it's a pretty even exchange rate of information.  That being said, combining pictures and words is a lot more for the reader to process, and therefore a little more mentally exhausting.  It's probably a learned skill, something that you get faster at with practice, but as a beginner, it can be a little distracting.  I'm stretching a bit here, but this reminds me of what it's like to help the elderly check their email (yeah, I'm in with the old crowd.  They write fat checks.)  They think every fucking side ad is something that needs to be clicked, as if the advertising companies are trying to be helpful by providing shortcuts to their inbox.  Modern folk (for lack of a better term) almost don't see the ads at all, because we got used to filtering them out.  For the elderly, it's visual overload, so they fall prey to advertising's cheap tricks.  Similarly, while reading McCloud's book, I'm not sure where to look, and if I come across a page with too much, I skip ahead for something a little more bite-sized.

Kinda what it's like to read Understanding Comics

"But if who I am matters less, maybe what I say will matter more" (McCloud, 37).  Damn, what a concept.  And I think I buy it, although I'm sure that there are plenty of people in history who said nothing of importance, yet their names are well known.  And the flipside is true as well; tons of thought provoking maxims are credited as anonymous, because whoever said it first wasn't famous enough to get credit.  This circles back to the "shit happens" principle.  Really, none of us matter, and some last minute thesis paper we write may be quoted in history books 200 years from now.  Similarly, a thesis that has taken years to develop with some really crucial findings may become buried underneath a pseudo-intellectual-philosophical twitter feed, because it had more followers or however the hell twitter works.  What does this mean for us?  Make every sentence count, write it as if you intend to be quoted throughout the ages.  Of course this type of diligence can be exhausting, and unrealistic.  But wouldn't it be a real bitch if you were remembered for saying some stupid shit that you really only typed to meet your word count, or complete your blogging quota?  Maybe we should be a little more conservative with our words, and only say something when we are really inspired to weigh in on a topic to eliminate a mountain of bullshit.  But then again, if we take on this perspective, we may never find an appropriate time to talk/write, because it seems like we all have to publicly vomit all of our rambling before we can get to the real substance of our thoughts.      

     

Customize Your Personality With Our New Custom Personality Generator!

It's pretty cool that we are far enough along in our understanding of composition that our assigned text revolves around the expansion of teaching composition.  I know Wysocki isn't the only writing scholar who is making an effort to progress our field (technologically speaking), but the existence of her book, Writing New Media, is a pretty significant contribution.  After reading the first 20 pages, I thought this was much like watching an ant try to roll the universe uphill, because there is such a huge amount of technology that needs to be implemented into education in order to keep things relevant.  But then again, I suppose that's how massive tasks get accomplished, one ant and one 'budge' at a time.  I guess even being a part of this course means that we are doing our own amount of budging.  Since our assigned reading was essentially an introduction, I don't have any quotes to pull out for credibility's sake.  Instead, I'll just elaborate on the notes I jotted down while I read.

There is some amount of irony in the fact that I own the kindle version of this text.  I always opt for the kindle versions, because they're cheaper, but mostly because you can use the "Ctrl+F" function to seek out specific keywords and ideas.  Or, more realistically, you can write a paper about something you haven't read but seem to know where all the supporting evidence for your argument is.  Wysocki seems to be familiar with this trick though, because she made all of her arguments in bold so that your eyes know when to stop skimming.  I appreciate the hell out of this, even though I originally felt 'caught' in the act, I realized it takes one to know one.  Although our generation may have come up with the term "TL;DR (too long;didn't read), I'm pretty sure everyone who has ever been through any level of education makes a serious effort to only read the necessary sentences.  Making them in bold really helps a fella out.

I don't want to beat a dead horse, but I once again really identified with Wysocki's idea throughout p. 4 where she explains that school is constructed in a way that makes our education seem practical only if there is an assumed "degree agenda."  Seeing as I dwelt on that in last week's blog, I thought I'd comment on the bit in parentheses, where she says that another literal boundary that school has is it's physical structure and unlikeness to other social spaces in the world.  I had never thought about that before...we basically go to college to learn how to get jobs in the real world, and the place we go to learn this information is NOTHING like the real world.  Weird shit. 

When Wysocki was discussing the implications and behavioral responses to webpages, it got me thinking about the ghetto days of MySpace.  Although I've never had a Facebook, I had MySpace back in 7-8th grade, and became addicted to its customizability.  Literally every facet of the webpage could be altered, with almost no limitations.  I was a pre-Hot Topic goth kid at the time, which meant that I had to have the darkest, most shocking page imaginable.  I spent forever combing the web for obscure fonts, disturbing images, ungodly music, and cool html effects to make sure I could represent...well, whatever the hell I thought I had to prove at that age.  I might not have had the theoretical knowledge at the time, but I knew that every single thing I put on my page had to be deliberate because it directly reflected on my character.  Wysocki says, "there is little or nothing that asks composers and readers to see and then question the values implicit in visual design choices, for such design is often presented as having no value other than functionality..." (Wysocki, 6).  I guess that's something I knew in some loose form back then as well.  Most things are just sort of casually scanned, with a neutral response.  Maybe that's why I used to (and still do, to a lesser degree) get my kicks out of shock value; you can always get an obvious response.        

(In)Significance

Things can only be what we think they are.  We lack full perspective to see otherwise.

(Apologies for the previous terrible formatting of this post, had to repost it entirely)

 It seems that we are really driving home this concept of being trapped within the confines of our own societal framework.  The further along I get in education, the more I see how trivial learning is in the big scheme of things, because we are essentially just reproducing the elements of our culture over and over again.  To me, it seems like we aren't getting anywhere new in terms of perspective and classifying our world.  Could it really be that our first notion for a societal narrative was the correct one, and that's why we've kept pursuing it?  Or is it more likely that we came up with something that the majority of our peers could grasp, so we decided to pursue it by default?  In either case, all concepts can become stale with time, and maybe that's why so many of us (especially in younger years) have a bad taste in our mouth about the structure of education.  

Everything we think we know is really just a long string of historical invention, thought up by someone who was as equally insignificant as we all are.  Fisher acknowledges Burke for referring to this dilemma as the "unending conversation" that we are all a part of as soon as we exist (Fisher, 381).  It's unfortunate, because we are a part of this construct whether we agree with it or not, and cannot even be heard in our disagreement until we submit to the very construct we disagree with.  With this perspective, it seems that we can only become significant in the big scheme if we become a notable contributor to the unending conversation.  For those of us that accept this naturalism, there is comfort in having a clear cut task to become significant; study and critique the history of theories that came before you until you find an anomaly, then exploit that anomaly so that you will be remembered and quoted for truth, and the earlier theorist fades away with time.  For those of us who find this naturalism oppressive, life can seem a bleak and pointless endeavor.  

While there is obviously no clear-cut meaning of life, the majority of us share the appetite for the pursuit of purpose.  Upon realizing that all purpose fits into a construct set forth by a long string of dead people before me, who are only known today because the constructs of naturalism and literacy demand that they be known, it becomes obvious that everything is made up.  Fisher speaks to this directly, noting, "the effects of naturalism have been to restrict the rational world paradigm to specialized studies and relegate everyday argument to an irrational exercise" (Fisher, 380).  This quote really hit me hard, because I agree with it so whole-heartedly, yet it serves to undermine every dollar I've ever spent on college tuition.  Some days, it's difficult to want to contribute to classroom discussions, because even in the biggest "AH HA!" moments, it's all really just an exercise that leads to nowhere and nothing, except another argument/conversation.  This seems completely irrational when considered as a one-time event.  It seems downright insane to do this over and over again for 4+ years, and PAY to do it.  However, our narrative makes it rational because we have constructed the system in such a way that proof of 4+ years of irrational argument (also known as a Bachelor's Degree) leads to a higher probability of landing a decent paying job.

Wysocki-Eilola seem to be asking the right questions in regards to how we go about breaking out of this narrative shell.  "Why aren't we instead working to come up with other terms and understandings--other more complex expressions--of our relationship with and within technologies?" (Wysocki-Eilola, 360).  This question brings me right back to the issue of significance.  I bet there are quite a few people that frequently use other terms and understandings to communicate complex expressions, but we'd likely interpret them as disturbed individuals, because they'd be speaking (or telepathing/miming/???) outside of our universe of understanding.  These types of people have, in fact, come up with something *new*, but those of us within the standard narrative lack the perception to be able to interpret their communication with any amount of significance.  I'm not suggesting that the mentally ill hold the secrets of the universe, but what I'm trying to illustrate is the fact that we have very limited perception, and the concepts that Wysocki/Eilola/Fisher are looking for can only lie outside of our perception, and therefore can never be seen until we open a third eye, so to speak.          

Intro to Adam Schreuder

Here are the main things about me.