betajames

I’ve set up a second computer, devoid of internet, for my fiction-writing. That’s to say, I took an expensive Mac and turned it back into a typewriter. (You should imagine my computer set-up guy’s consternation when I insisted he drag the internet function out of the thing entirely. “I can just hide it from you,” he said. “No,” I told him, “I don’t want to know it’s in there somewhere.”) In fact, you ask me whether I feel there’s any difference between my fiction and essay—well, not (I ardently hope) either quality or commitment-wise (in that sense, yes, writing is writing), but lately, à la David Shields, process-wise I find I do want to Google while I essay, and while I’m always certain I need that other, internet-disabled computer for writing fiction.

An email correspondence between Jonathan Lethem and David Gates, touching on the influence of technology in all things writing. I have a growing interest in what we deprive ourselves of when we get down to writing, whether we perform better by way of sensory deprivation or overload (writing in silence vs. writing to music), whether we invest in programs like Anti-Social and Freedom and/or simpler word processors like OmmWriter and WriteRoom.

How many of us become cloistered when we write?

in the discursive circulation of hand wringing regarding the future of English Studies, what is seldom discussed is the networked makeup of the field’s identity and how it can be traced to the field’s advantage. Instead of doing such a tracing, English Studies argues that its ethos depends on shifts in perception regarding individualized moments such as labor (Marc Bousquet), textual reading (Franco Moretti), or digital computing (Cathy Davidson). These ethos-driven moments, however, are treated separately, as nodes without any network to belong within. When the recent 10th anniversary issue of the journal Pedagogy posed the question of “the most pressing pedagogical issues facing teachers and university citizens in 2010 and beyond,” the responses published reflect the fixed perspective I have been arguing here against.

Geosocial networking, as it's called (though it's surely destined to be savagely abbreviated) is now the big growth area for mobile internet applications. The number of startups fighting their way into the sector is staggering, and reminiscent of the dotcom boom; they all claim to be offering a unique and exciting service, but few seem to be financially viable propositions, and they appear to be waiting to be bought up by internet giants with huge user-bases and deep pockets. Brightkite, WhosHere, Zintin, Whrrl, Loopt and Dokiru are just some of the names that have, as yet, failed to resonate much with the general public; however, Gowalla and Foursquare have achieved a little more market penetration, and the latter's front-running has spawned yet more startups offering services that bolt on to Foursquare: Foodspotting, Hot Potato, FourWhere, SocialGreat, Layar and many others.

But despite the seemingly endless selection of methods by which we can locate our pals, we've shown some reluctance to do so. Too many services are chasing too few enthusiasts, and in the words of one observer, "it's like a big room without many people in it." And those of us who are in the room are curious, early-adopter geeks like myself who you probably wouldn't want to hang out with in any case.

something like this:

• Pointer: a bookmark with no additional content. Underlining. A bare quote.
• Note: a bookmark with some additional content. Marginalia. Adding something to the text, alongside it.
• Reference: a bookmark with a link to some other content. Adding something to the text, pointing elsewhere.

This seems simple, but it’s quite key, with regard to inline bookmarking. Then there’s the more general stuff associated with the whole text, or groups of texts.

One site has information that could endanger the exclusive going to someone else, so they're threatened in order to have it removed. Other news outlets ignore a story they know is true because it might break their embargo, only to find out that USA Today has the exclusive, so their own stories are going to feel like yesterday's news by the time they're allowed to publish. In some cases, writers go see a game, only to have the details, images, and gameplay details published by the developer before the embargo drops, destroying the value of the pre-release briefing.

Through performances like web log portfolios, slide presentations, digital stories and visually differentiated text, students can demonstrate learning in ways that require them to analyze, synthesize, evaluate and *apply* what they know about a particular content domain.

Today's pedagogical toolbox contains many new media tools that are inexpensive, easy-to-use and widely available.

The new media forms addressed in this site are "low end" in that they employ common hardware, as well as easy to use and free or inexpensive software. As such they represent the media forms that students should be able to read critically and write proficiently today. But tomorrow is a different story. Media forms evolve rapidly, and we are still waiting for educational structures to develop that can recognize and support them within the context of teaching and learning.

Academic writers have lots of different needs. For example, some people need to physically share space with others while writing, some need a stern authority figure to answer to, some need solitude and the kind of support that is silent, some need a quantitative accounting of their progress, some need to be in groups with similar others, some need to be regularly inspired, some need ongoing substantive feedback by those in their specialty field, some need regular cheerleading, some need therapy, and some need an occasional exorcism (from the demons of bad academic socialization). It’s even OK if you need all of these things at different times! The important thing is to identify what you need without judgment, shame, or self-flagellation.

Universities focus on teaching, the process of education, exposing students to instruction for specific periods of time, typically a semester for a course, and four years of instruction for a bachelor’s degree; digital natives are more concerned with the outcomes of education — learning and the mastery of content, achieved in the manner of games. which is why an online game pro will never boast about how long she was at a certain level, but will talk about the level that has been reached.

Higher education and digital natives also favor different methods of instruction. Universities have historically emphasized passive means of instruction — lectures and books — while digital natives tend to be more active learners, preferring interactive, hands-on methods of learning such as case studies, field study and simulations. The institution gives preference to the most traditional medium, print, while the students favor new media — the Internet and its associated applications.

Twitter is now a part of my daystream. I check in first thing every morning, and return at least once an hour until bedtime. I'm offline, of course, during movies, and don't even usually take my iPhone. The only tweeting I've done with mobile devices was when our internet went down one day, and when my laptop was lost in Cannes. But you can be sure that before I write the next three paragraphs I will tweet something.

Twitter for me performs the function of a running conversation.

A hundred million years sounds like a safe buffer, but the next one could happen at any time. But you can take it off your worry list – astronomers have it covered. A network of ground-based telescopes scans the skies for bits of rogue rubble larger than a few hundred meters. That's ample time to dust off the nuclear arsenals for an interception mission if we had to. Unfortunately, the Dr Strangelove approach creates lethal shrapnel travelling in the same direction as the original object; a smarter strategy is to send a spacecraft alongside it and gently "tug" it with gravity onto a slightly different trajectory.