Thursday, October 29, 2015

Some Games Count



Video games are difficult to classify. While some consider games to be mindless pastimes, others view them as unique works of digital literature. Video games can come in many different styles, all which have their own unique purpose or motive. These games can be used as a means of experiencing a story, or leisure time with friends and family.  Some seek to engage the user  in an insightful storyline as played through an animated character, while others simply satisfy the addictive habituality of simple key strokes as explained by Michael Clune. Nonetheless, there is a hidden line that separates certain games from being classified as  pieces of electronic literature. There is one important thing to take away from this. Although this line may be hard to define, and some games may fall in both categories, certain games can be classified as electronic literature, and others can not.
This distinction is often based on the story behind the game.  Certain games like Skyrim or Mass Effect may have unquestionable literary characteristics and contributions to make, but the demographic served by these games is limited.  Females and (ideally) youths may not be as drawn to them.  What about the consideration of games like Mario Kart?  An avid Mario Kart player will see a lot of the same characters that have been in Mario’s games since Donkey Kong in 1981.  Throughout the decades, all of the characters have been the same, and the plot lines have been remarkably aligned.  This continuity, even in a simple Mario game, highlights not only nostalgic accessibility, but also the capability of a game to forge and maintain its own world.  
It is helpful to confront some misconceptions about video games through a few valuable perspectives of individuals in our readings.  Video games are often notorious as time-wasters, known for encouraging counterproductive behavior.  They can cause health problems.  They prevent oneself from doing work. But anyone can say this for everything people do for recreation.  Movies, reading, sleeping.  It’s impossible to draw a line.  Still, video games are rarely an addiction.  Michael Clune discusses how video games helped him “overcome his addictive nature.”  “Computer games have enhanced and enriched my life while drugs and alcohol turned me into a walking corpse.”  His observations and contrasting points between gaming habits and addiction are enlightening.  Video games are not mindless.  In Sherry Turkle’s articleVideo Games and Computer Holding Power,” Matthew, a twenty-nine year old economist, considers a game’s potential to lead a player “into another mental space where the thoughts and the cares of his day cannot intrude.”  Denying the positive aspects of gaming, or misrepresenting the negatives, will get us nowhere in this discussion.
Another characteristic of gaming as an element of digital humanities, while not essential, is graphics.  The quality and realism of graphics in nearly every video game has become better with advances in technology.   Ultimately, these graphics can make a plot line more immersive and the interaction more natural.  This helps the player become a part of the game itself, making it much easier to see the game as a story. Modern graphics can be wholly considered works of art, so why shouldn't the stories behind them be considered literature? At the core, though, do graphics matter? What about the text adventures we have explored the last few days in class? Perhaps the beauty of the medium is being able to convey a gripping story without them.
Where is the line drawn at which a video game can engage the psyche at a level of depth comparable to, perhaps, the literary classics?  Many would argue that the Halo series (or even Pong) presents significantly more narrative depth than your typical romance novel.  Modern gaming is capable of delivering not only the computer “microworlds” that gaming has always existed in, but also immersive, character-driven, narrative-based stories that confront human themes and engage the player as part of a new, avatar-based existence not governed by the limits of their home reality.


Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Essay One - Electronic Literature


Monday, October 12, 2015

Maybe Make Some Change

For this week’s consideration of electronic literature, a standout was the interactive, code-based piece Maybe Make Some Change.  Like many works, the stark realities that brought about its existence are confronted well in its execution.  The story is based on the real conflicts of young soldier Adam Winfield during his time of service in Afghanistan.  Winfield was a member of a rogue company reportedly ordered to carry out systematic killings of civilians by his commanding officer Calvin Gibbs.  Adam was threatened with death if the plans and acts were revealed.  The piece, based in controversial and dishonorable wartime conduct, represents the emotional strain and difficulty of the situation well.  
         Given the background of the story, Reed's delivery of the events are certainly a form of electronic literature. The story progresses as the reader makes decisions using certain verbs and nouns highlighted in the text. Maybe Make Some Change is technically classified as a work of interactive fiction. Nonetheless, the events in which the work is formed around are very "real" issues. Though interactive, and not proceeding without user input, the user’s interactions are limited.  The soldier the interactor is portraying can only do what he “knows.”  New “abilities” are unlocked based on the interactor’s responses to events, and the use of these new choices yields tremendous variations in story and response.  Like code, a specific syntactical order is required in order for the piece to proceed.  When such an order is not present, the code responds with messages similar to that of an interrogator or prosecutor.  “Tell me exactly what you did and what you did it to.”  As the story moves forward, the decisions you make may be reflected in a different voice, that of warnings and recollections from fellow soldiers.  There is some support for the understandable ambiguity of a wartime scenario.  The digital and interactive elements allow the interactor to experience that difficulty, especially when your only choice is to shoot.  Backgrounds from first person shooters further this sort of ambiguity, potentially theorizing that the training of these individuals has built their responses as a predictable and dehumanizing reaction to the situations they find themselves in. The conflict these young men and women find themselves embroiled in is much more complicated than that. The reality of war is something only a veteran can understand. The detachment, and remote understanding of war, is what leaves this case in the dark. Perhaps these are a few of the underlying thoughts associated with the war in the middle east, leaving America with one question. Maybe make some change?



Monday, October 5, 2015

“Is Code Language? Why is Digital Literacy Important.”

Code is definitely a language.  Programming is not something you know off the top of your head, it is something that requires proper instruction and practice. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines language primarily as “the words, their pronunciation, and the methods of combining them used and understood by a community”; in conjunction with, “the vocabulary and phraseology belonging to an art or a department of knowledge.”  Elements of a computer programming language use standardized and particular “words” to accomplish operations on data.  Combination in a particular order is essential to proper function, and is a technique of art and efficiency in and of itself.  Punctuation in the form of syntax, such as parameter brackets and end-of-line semicolons, is one of the most important pieces of the puzzle.  If one were to insert a comma in the wrong place, or have a wrong word/phrase, the code will generate an error, causing the program to work incorrectly.  Just like learning the English language, programming has its own rules and standards that one must follow in order to be a good “coder.”  The community is a diverse representation of the designers, developers, and enthusiasts who use code as both a tool, and a medium for work, play, and even art.
In our consideration of digital humanities, the fundamental premise for viewing code as a language becomes all the more justified.  Tasneem Raja’s article, “We Can Code It” compares the evolution of programming and digital development to that of writing and literacy.  If we continue at the current rate of advancement and adoption of technology, there is no question to the relevance of that comparison. As we have considered in class, programming can also refine human experience with the written word.  Even with the advent of computer technology, the archaic written word remained static. As programming has transitioned from machine code to higher-level, more user-readable languages, text has become operable and understandable by the system.  In the hands of a fluent craftsman, code can allow for numerous revolutions. From the archival application of traditional literature, to the addition of interactive experiences to existing born-digital work, to complex and far-reaching virtual environments.  When a work is digitized, what other form can it take?
In the digital age, programmers are needed everywhere. The demand for programmers will only increase as technology becomes more prominent, and evolves in the years to come.  As the growth and expansion of the digital age continues, maintaining an understanding of technology becomes a responsibility for everyone. When we come to terms with the size and scope of technology, and programming in particular, we begin to see its growing importance to society. With this being said, high schools should require students to take an introductory class to programming. Unfortunately, both hardware and software systems are becoming increasingly closed.  In the words of Cory Doctorow, noted in the aforementioned article, "Buying an iPad for your kids isn't a means of jump-starting the realization that the world is yours to take apart and reassemble; it's a way of telling your offspring that even changing the batteries is something you have to leave to the professionals."  This highlights a disparaging effect of modern technology on humanity, as we have transitioned from creators to consumers. While developments such as the maker movement, open source software, and Creative Commons are making measurable strides in a better direction, they have done little to establish any further interest or recognition.  Few consider the immense opportunities to code a better world.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Personal Google Maps Essays

Allie - Foreigner in a Foreign Place - My memories about my 3 week stay in Germany when I was 16.
Evan - A Matter of Choice - An introduction of a place that’s special to me, memories I’ve had there, and an invite for the reader to explore it themselves.
Josh -  Taking a Turn for the Best - A fictional story about someone struggling to find inspiration on writing fiction. IRONY.
Nick - Canoe Trip 2015 - This is a story about my family’s annual camping trip. I begin my story with the day leading up to the trip, and continue by explaining the events of the weekend.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

“Every Word Forms a Sentence”: A Response to the Keynote of the Pitt-Johnstown Day of Digital Humanities

It’s very true: every word does form a sentence.  However, when that word exists only as a stored pattern of ones and zeros bouncing amid the sparks of a wafer of doped silicon, does it really mean as much?  I suppose that is the profound question of the digital humanities.  Though it is true that it is not so much the printed word that holds meaning either, but the intrinsic emotive response created when a work imprints itself of the human essence.  If I had possessed any doubt of technology’s ability to replicate that sentiment, the reactions and emotions brought upon by the works of keynote speaker Alan Sondheim thoroughly expunged it.

In Sondheim’s own words, this was an exploration of “the nature of the virtual as a representation of the real.”  While it may not have been the most organized presentation, I can call it the most unique that I have ever attended.  Never before have I encountered such a combination of technology, culture, anguish, and twenty-first century buzzwords.

As a man of technology, Sondheim’s experience with motion capture technologies is impressive.  He and his team make use of complex hardware and software in manners that I doubt would ever be considered in a more practical circle.  What constitutes a body?  The warping of limbs based upon remapping of “virtual” nodes?  The synchronization of multiple motion capture recordings to a single model?  Even the collaboration of multiple physical participants to map the coordinated movement of a single avatar?  This I found most interesting, with what nearly constituted a“hive-mind,” as Sondheim called it, being engaged in an act of human cooperation for a solely virtual accomplishment.  “It’s like they’re reaching out to each other,” Sondheim’s garbled recording muses, but I see nothing in the binary to indicate that being the case.

As a man of edgespace and gamespace, Sondheim’s interest and work within collapsing digital realities was, to me, profound.  The humanities of virtual realities such as videogames is a big interest of mine, but Sondheim’s focuses are far from the script.  I have experience playing in borders and edgespaces, even in my youth, which further provoked my interest into his explorations.  As a computer engineering student with interests in the realms of artificial intelligence, these developments also pose a soon non-rhetorical question about the meaning of human control of the digital realm.  The only truly visceral reaction I have yet had to Sondheim’s presented works was my response to the uncontrolled collapse.  Not an experiment, beyond the realm of human control, the sound of, for lack of a better word, death, as the simulation collapsed and the program terminated.  This created a surprising emotion in me.  I ask myself whether or not this emotion was valid, but I suppose it is interesting enough to recognize its existence.  When an avatar, a construct, a non-playable character, or even a representation of yourself ceases to digitally exist, is there any relevance?  Did it exist in the first place?

As a man of culture, Sondheim finds true fulfillment of his art.  His work to convey anguish, terror, and violence, as well as his comments on the surge and annihilation to the limit were eye-opening.  The digital works presented conveyed the emotion surprisingly well.  It is extremely interesting to consider the emotional ramifications of critically human themes expressed in a binary form; the greys of our culture expressed in the pure black and white of one and zero, everything and nothing.  Sondheim’s reactions to the chaos through his unique art were an interesting perspective.  It brought with it questions of worldview, perspective, and purpose.  One of Sondheim’s final remarks was the question of our response.  “What do you do about it?” he postulated.  “I have no answer...in that regard all of my work is a failure.”  I would argue much to the contrary, Mr. Sondheim.  You have confronted issues, posed questions, and brought depth of perception to matter of great struggle.  In some ways, I suppose this is all anyone can hope to do.

Creating these perceptions through solely digital means was most remarkable.  The emotions conveyed through the medium were well perceived.  This is a fantastic use of digital humanities that does not shy away from difficult themes.  Works from motion capture to manifestations of human nature unify aspects of flesh and code.  As the keynote to Pitt-Johnstown’s Day of Digital Humanities, it served to the highest degree as a representation of what this discipline is capable of.  


At the conclusion of Alan Sondheim’s presentation, I could not help but walk to the front and shake the gentleman’s hand.  I do not know why,  I certainly did not understand the crux of what I had just seen, but, in a manner I cannot wholly explain, I wanted to.  I have worked with computers from a young age, and I am used to the possession of a certain level of understanding when dealing with them.  This is the first in quite some time that I have faced a certain level of mysticism where the reactions to a digital medium left me with echoes of the human condition.  The whole was much grander than the sum of its parts.