On Reading

Given that I spend much of the day reading, this recent article on reading in the NYT caught my eye. It's rather long but well worth the time. Of course, I was also rather interested in it because it deals with whether or not the Internet has had a negative impact on the ability of children and adults to think. Reading, of course, is the site of contention in all this. The tussle is over whether interacting with non-traditional texts via the Internet is compromising our ability to store and analyze information. I guess that a high level of competence in traditional literacies has always been a gold-standard of sorts when it comes with academic and intellectual success, and whether being literate in the new media of the Internet promotes a similar form of intellectual growth, retards our ability to think, or complements a more traditional view of literacy and intelligence, is really an interesting debate. Of course, it smacks of the "Is TV Bad For You?" debate, but just as the cloning controversy is a more interesting variation of the abortion debate, the Internet offers more complicated options than TV.

From a personal perspective, I could easily see myself as a proponent of either camp. Given that I've plowed through my fair share of heavy going novels, it would serve my sense of moral indignation to condemn YouTube, Facebook, and yes, blogs. And I think a certain amount of this is clear from the article. Those who speak in defense of more traditional literacies seem motivated to hold off what they see as a decay civilization, as they've defined it of course. I suppose there's a bit of a conservative streak in me that suggests that everyone should avail themselves to the same modes of suffering (as well as pleasure) that I've associated with reading. I get the sense that it's more than "academic outcomes" or "intellectual achievement" that's at stake: It's also about how we define our cultural technologies and who manages to dictate how subjectivities are formed (and controlled) vis a vis these.

I also do my fair share of "new media" perusing. I haven't read a traditional newspaper in years, love YouTube, and when the mood strikes me, could be up there with the most fanatical of users of chat programs (Ok, the last claim is probably untrue, and unlike a real savvy Internet multi-tasker, I really can't do much else except chat when I chat). I often think about how I'd probably wouldn't have done well in the O- and A- Levels or University exams if I had had the Internet access which we all now take for granted. Even now, I get endlessly interrupted (ok, distracted) with all the measureless and meandering paths to procrastination that the Internet has to offer. Surely the time and pleasure one spends surfing has to count for some expansion of one's intellectual powers? So I get it when the hordes of academics cited by the NYT article put up a doughty defense for the new literacies that are so different from traditional reading that new measures and definitions of literacy are called for. At the same time, I wonder if a lot of this has to do with make a big ballyhoo out of very little. I'm really cynical about endless academic claims in support of Internet literacies because they really does come off as cultivating niche areas of research that don't really tell us anything profound about how we think or process information. (I should be honest about this and state that I did write a Masters thesis on how Electronic Message Boards promote critical literacy and empower students .... Hah!) Still, if an academic wins acclaim (and tenure, promotion, and the good life) by defending web-surfing habits, more power to him (and her).

In one sense, the conflict over reading literacy and Internet literacy recalls medieval debates over the growth of writing. With the growth of writing as a technology of the mind, medieval thinkers were afraid that people would lose the arts of memory, and eventually lose both knowledge and the ability to reason because they'd become to dependent on marks on a page. The way that the Internet is becoming everybody's prosthetic memory (and perhaps brain) parallels this medieval anxiety about the loss of knowledge. This article that is in the Atlantic (which the NYT article refers to) discusses the issue quite nicely. I've never really had a good memory (and no, just because I'm a Lit student does not mean I can quote from the Western canon at will, though if I could it would be really cool ...), so I can't really tell if the Internet has made me dumber. I will, however, say that accumulating information does give one the sense that one has processed and thought about the stuff. So, clicking through links and quickly browsing Wikipedia does often cause me to think that I'm learning stuff that I'm probably not. But this isn't new. I remember how we (while in JC and Uni) would photocopy reams of articles from journals and books and feel as if we'd done a whole lot of studying. It's a good thing that photocopying is so expensive here, it forces me to sit in the library and take notes by hand, and I think I tend to process the information more diligently than if I were to mindlessly underline sections and merely make marginal comments.

I return to this post after a bit of a break.

A book that I finished about a week ago, and had begun when I first started out this post, deals with the relationship between knowing stuff and being smart, and the relevance of factoids in life, involving issues, I guess, that are tangentially touched upon by the articles I refer to above. It's by A.J. Jacobs, who is quite a character (in a preppy, nerdy, "everyone-graduated-from-Harvard-or-Yale, I-only-went-to-Brown" kind of way), and it's called "The Know It All". It's really quite an intriguing feat that he undertakes. Jacobs decides to read the entire Encycleopedia Britannica. Yup, from A to Z. It's pretty amazing that he manages to do it, all 44 million words within a year, WHILE keeping his day job as an editor at Esquire. It's an easy and entertaining read (Jacobs's book, I mean) but his chatty writing style doesn't obscure the greatness of his achievement or the his enthusiasm for knowledge. Another more recently published book by Ammon Shea, recounts his experience reading the entire OED.

So what do these epic reading enterprises, undertaken in an age of media proliferation tell us about how knowledge is valued in a world where technology appears to be muscling out traditional literacies? I guess reading has become, from a certain perspective, a vast undertaking. There is now a certain novelty attached to reading, and reading what appears to be dry as dust material for pleasure is an oddity of sorts. I also think that the participatory effect of reading, which is still valued at a really young age, is somehow pushed aside by the richness of the new media. No one reads out loud nowadays, at least it takes a conscious effort to do so; and, people don't read that much to each other anymore. The private experience of reading has been made an even more exclusive and exclusionary practice, since the ease with which one can respond through writing or performing on new media texts makes the performance of the traditional text laborious and time-consuming.

I know all this sounds nostalgic for a past where we spent a little more time feeling the rustle of pages between our fingers, and spending entire days with books rather than blogs, and it is, in part. But I'm just not exactly ready to trumpet the wholesale triumph of the new media over my books, if only because books still look great all lined up on the shelf.

Blurbs From a Blogger

It occurred to me this morning, as I was walking Sourdough, that I have every right to call myself a "Blogger". It came as a bit of a surprise, as most revelations of the obvious do, and it caused me to see myself quite differently. Now, I realize that "real" Bloggers, whether full-time or not, celebrated or reviled, actually get more than 3 page views a day (I think that's my average, if I count my own visits to the blog ...), write about important matters (like "Obama needs a New Hairdo and so do You"), generate lots of publicity, and contribute to the general course of human affairs, from behind (or is it in front of ... ?) the near-anonymity of a computer terminal.

But, as you, dear Reader, have no doubt noticed, there IS a new look to this blog. And moving away from the classic blog platform (goodbye outmoded javascript slideshow ...) to Blogger's WordPress-Wannabe Widget Filled Universe has prompted me to cast a retrospective glance at my early output. I'm in the process of cleaning up the interface as well as re-visiting some of my earlier posts. Reading some of the stuff that I wrote way back – especially from 2001-4 – for instance, I'm struck by how prolific I was in those days. Of course, prolific doesn't mean the writing is good or even thoughtful. But there was just a lot of stuff. In "those" heady days, I used a really cheesy platform called "Free Open Diary". Then it was just words – no pictures, no music, no video – just words, a lot of them. And it was great fun then, as there was a relative large and vibrant community of Open Diarists in the school where I taught. There were inevitable attempts by the more daring or cheeky of my students to make overt references to each diary entry whenever I stepped into class, but I managed to keep those worlds somewhat separate, though inextricably bound as my entries were often commentaries on what was going on in school and in the classroom. In retrospect, I think writing on the thing shaped the kind of teacher (and possibly person) I became in those years and created all sorts of opportunities for interaction with students that my official school persona may not have afforded. I'm sure that blogging is now taken for granted by teachers as a means of communicating certain "unmentionables" to students, but I'm glad I was involved in it at a time when not that many people (at least people I knew) wrote on blogs.

So, patiently, with much perseverance, I'm going back to these old entries and straightening them out, correcting grammar and spelling where I find errors, and putting them onto their proper blog page. (In switching platforms, I plonked whole months into a single entry and haven't really sieved through them properly). In the meantime, I've created a "Blast From the Past" link on my new blog interface (using the nice link widget) where I'll put entries that strike a chord with me in this re-vamping exercise. And of course, I'll continue to feel happy about calling myself a Blogger.

Now back to the Dissertation.

Strange Culture

Sometime in 2005, I attended a talk by Steve Kurtz, an Art professor, who was in the midst of being persecuted by post-Sep 11 paranoia. Just a few days ago, browsing the shelves of the public library, I came across this cool documentary, Strange Culture, that was made in 2006/7, which was about his case. It not only traces the tragedy with enormous sympathy and precision, it also employs a clever blend of dramatization (Tilda Swinton plays his wife, whose tragic death was the genesis of the entire bizarre affair). Even more remarkable is that fact that at the time that they were making the doc, Kurtz's case was still unresolved, and he was still facing the prospect of many years in jail. The film is not only a sensitive rendering of the entire affair, but also fleshes out the broader implications of the case for basic human and academic freedom.

In brief, here's what happened. Kurtz was, and still is, a critical artist. So his stuff is radical art that questions the relationship between art and science. In the talk I attended, he said that his mission has always been to try to use art to put science in the hands of the people, because the general population has been alienated from science by big corporate interests. Anyway, he was working on a project that involved the critique of bio-warfare when his wife died of a heart attack in her sleep. He called 911, and when responders came, they noticed that he had a lot of science equipment at home. And so, the FBI and the bioterrorism task force was notified, and he was eventually taken away (illegally) on the suspicion that he was a bioterrorist. Despite repeated attempts by him and his colleagues to explain to the FBI that "this is what he does, and has been doing all along ...", the government was set on charging him with something. In the end, because there was no way that the bioterrorism charges could be filed (all the stuff he had was legal, harmless, and could be bought over the Internet), they decided to charge him with "wire fraud" and "mail fraud".* In essence, the government, riding on post Sep 11 paranoia, was using its expanded powers to silence voices of dissent by concocting scenarios that are best described as Kafkaesque.

The good news is that he was cleared of everything in April this year, and I found this interview from June where he recounts the entire ordeal, being able to speak openly about the facts of the case for the first time. His interview with Amy Goodman begins at 35:35.



* As I understand it, the prosecution's attempt to charge Kurtz with mail and wire fraud stood on the fact that he'd gotten his research collaborator to buy the reagents that he needed for his work from a supplier who does not sell to individuals, but only to institutional accounts that are registered with them. It's as if I bought a second hand book from Amazon.com on behalf of someone in Singapore because Amazon.com second hand book sellers won't ship internationally. Because I bought the books with the intent of circumventing this system, I (as well as the person receiving the books) am guilty of mail fraud along the lines of the crime that the govt was trying to charge Kurtz with.

Pecan Pie

Pecan pie happens to be one of my favorite deserts - after carrot cake, of course. I made my first one yesterday. Lots of recipes call for corn syrup, which apart from being really bad for you, is also the poster child for everything wrong with the food industry, so I made one with honey instead!

Chomksy At Google

Here's a good Chomsky talk. Interesting because it's wide-ranging and pitched at a broad audience rather than the endless (and damning) slew of facts and figures that Chomksy usually broadsides American policy with.

Berry Good Pie

Two pies! Above - the raspberry-strawberry-rhubarb pie that I made last week. It was runny and I had to resort to desperate measures that involved performing extensive drainage operations. But, I'm pleased to say that this is the first pie where I'm happy with the crust. The key to good crust (for me): vodka. (What I lack in skill I make up for in exotic ingredients but there's a nice scientific explanation for using vodka - it evaporates quickly!) Having rhubarb in a pie was something I had to do having read about rhubarb and heard about it all my life. Turned out to be a nicely tart combination. Below - I made this 'largely blueberry pie' today with the berries we had left in the fridge and freezer. To circumvent the runny insides, I used a corn-starch filler recipe, and for double insurance, made a crumb top so that the juices could evaporate.

You, Who Hear My Singing

I've been working on putting together (yet another) new blog, one that documents my attempts to make music. It started with an interest in figuring out how to put one of those audio players on a blog page and then took a life its own. Anyway, if you're interested in hearing me sing badly, play the guitar (and banjo) in a variety of styles, see what I've been up to musically, and perhaps even sing along ... it's here:

http://youwhohearmysinging.blogspot.com/

Great Nader Lecture

Given the terrible and widespread public misperception that Ralph Nader "cost" Al Gore the election in 2000, I doubt that many people are interested in hearing what the man has to say. Even so, here's Nader in his own words. He's fantastic and if I were pressed to say who I supported in this U.S. election, I'd pick Nader. What is great about this lecture is the fact that he very fondly includes anecdotes about how his time at Princeton shaped his desire to change things. I've put all parts in a play list and playing them one after another should be quite intuitive!

Midnight's Sighs

I like Salman Rushdie! Along with Umberto Eco and Thomas Pynchon (and perhaps Don Delillo and let's not forget Jhumpa Lahiri, S.R. Delany and Ursula Le Guin, and Ian McEwan ... ok this list might go on a bit ... ), he's probably one of the few living writers that I'm quite keen about. I'm actually reading The Moor's Last Sigh right now and it's fabulous. My Salman Rushdie moments include 1. explaining why I liked Midnight's Children to a tutor during NUS who liked to grill students about what they were reading "outside" the curriculum. 2. Finding a copy of the Satanic Verses in the French section of Kino. I guess it's ok to read banned books in French. and 3. actually liking The Ground Beneath Her Feet (as well as the U2 song of the same name that Rushdie penned) very much. 4. Of course, I've never had the chance to meet the man, though a friend who has managed to get in a question about his favorite book (if I remember the anecdote correctly) - which happens to be Haroun. I guess if one wanted to see what the whole fuss was about either Midnight's Children or The Moor's Last Sigh would be great representatives of Rushdie's strange blend of poetry, wit, wordplay, irreverence and abiding respect for history. For a fun read, there's Haroun. For a sense of how clever Rushdie can be with myths and intertextual referencing, there's The Ground Beneath Her Feet as well as Fury. There's lots of Rushdie that I haven't read - including his two most recent books - so there's lots for me to enjoy!

Anyway, despite the silliness of lists like these, I will say that I like some of the other people on the "Best of the Booker" shortlist. There was a time that I was really into Peter Carey, and I liked Pat Baker's WWI trilogy immensely. News like this always causes me to go hunt for stuff by these authors I haven't read! Another wonderful distraction!

LONDON (Reuters) - British author Salman Rushdie won the "Best of the Booker" prize on Thursday to mark the 40th anniversary of one of the world's most prestigious literary awards.

"Midnight's Children" won the Booker Prize in 1981, and the Indian-born writer was hot favorite to take the award decided by the public from a shortlist of six in an online poll.

The 61-year-old, whose 1988 novel "The Satanic Verses" outraged many Muslims and prompted death threats against him, also won the 25th anniversary Booker prize in 1993.

"I think it was an extraordinary shortlist and it was an honor to be on it," Rushdie said in a recorded message from the United States, where he is on a book tour.

His sons, Zafar and Milan, accepted a trophy in London on his behalf, and the author said it was apt that "my real children (are) accepting a prize for my imaginary children."

Milan, the youngest, added: "I'm really looking forward to reading it when I'm older. Well done Dad."

Victoria Glendinning, chair of the panel who drew up a shortlist, said the entries were dominated by themes of the end of empire and two world wars.

"These are the nettles we have been compelled to try and grasp," she told reporters.

But there was some criticism of the award, partly because the choice was narrowed to just six nominees.

"It's an artificial exercise, simply because the general public only got to pick from six of the previous winners," said Jonathan Ruppin, promotions manager at Foyles bookshop.

"Readers have not been able to vote for some of their most enduring favorites," he added, mentioning, among others, Arundhati Roy's "The God of Small Things" and Kazuo Ishiguro's "The Remains of the Day."

ONLINE POLL

Around 8,000 people from around the world took part in the online poll, and Midnight's Children won 36 percent of votes.

At least half the voters were under 35, and the largest age group was 25-34, "a reflection of the ongoing interest in quality fiction amongst readers of all ages," organizers said.

Midnight's Children, an example of Rushdie's magical realist style, follows Saleem Sinai who is born on the stroke of midnight on the day of India's independence in 1947 and whose life loosely parallels the fortunes of his nascent country.

Some critics believe it is Rushdie's finest work, eclipsing subsequent novels including The Satanic Verses, for which he remains best known.

What was perceived to be the questioning of the tenets of Islam in The Satanic Verses led to book burnings and riots across the Muslim world culminating in a death edict against Rushdie by Iran's supreme religious leader.

The author was forced into hiding for nine years.

The other nominees included Nobel Prize winners J.M. Coetzee and Nadine Gordimer, both born in South Africa.

The full list comprised Rushdie, Pat Barker (The Ghost Road), Peter Carey (Oscar and Lucinda), Coetzee (Disgrace), J.G. Farrell (The Siege of Krishnapur) and Gordimer (The Conservationist).

Both Coetzee and Carey have won the Booker Prize twice.

The Booker rewards the best novel each year by a writer from Britain, Ireland or a Commonwealth country.

Recent Kitchen Exploits

Just messing around with the slideshow function in Picassa. So 1. I made quiche just so I could experiment more with pie-crusts. Making good pie crust has become the Holy Grail of my baking endeavors. This attempt wasn't great - too crumbly. 2. That's almost entirely homemade bruschetta. The bread was sliced and toasted from a homemade baguette, the basil and tomatoes were from the plants we've been nurturing since May. Now if only I could get a cow to fit on the balcony then we'd have homemade cheese as well ... but this was excellent smoked cheddar from the MSU Diary Store. 3. More bread - focus on the pan, not my strange "I'm-trying-to-look-pleased-with-my-efforts" semi-grin. Crusty dinner rolls this time, superb with any kind of stew!