Greg Linch's Commonplace Book

Oh, hello there. Welcome, interweb traveler. Here's where I share interesting and inspiring links. I hope you enjoy!

my experience puzzling over the card, before I knew the code, was a bit like a centering prayer, moving letter by letter, in a way that was much more like viewing a painting than reading a text.

As a reaction to the blurriness and confusion, some people resort to ideological certainty or personal animus to steady themselves. For each person who shifts back and forth between Dylan Farrow and Allen, there are others who, judging from the furious commentary, seem to have made up their minds even before Farrow published her open letter in the Times.

Perhaps, on some level, and in the face of social problems that are ultimately simple cases of gross injustice, we find these murky ethical situations gratifying, as if they offer us an excuse—human existence is just too complicated!—not to try to make meaningful changes in our public life. Or maybe our attempts to get at the truth of an imbroglio, like that involving Farrow and Allen, reflect a frustrated aspiration to retrieve some kind of shared, collective truth, period.

In retrospect, even the celebration of moral relativism by the post-structuralists of the nineteen-nineties was, despite its cloistered classroom quality, a development that took complexity out of literature’s privileged hands and brought it closer to everyday life. In post-structuralism, the person speaking or acting—the “subject”—was immediately suspect, merely an unwitting, unreliable product of social, psychological, cultural, and linguistic forces beyond her control. It was the reader or spectator’s job to cut through the subject’s illusion of integrity and get to the forces that were manipulating her. Sound familiar? Hundreds of thousands of people, often on interminable commenting threads, are trying to “deconstruct” Farrow and Allen in order to put a finger on precisely how one or the other is being manipulated by a third party or by his or her own hidden motives. We are all post-structuralists now.

For all of these reasons I’ve come to view delayed analytics as positive. The turnaround time also imposes a welcome pressure on experimental design. People are more likely to think carefully about how their controls work and how they set up their measurements when there’s no promise of immediate feedback.

At least one scholar connected up typewriter art and pointilism as pointing the way to the idea of pixels on a screen being used to represent everything. 

[…]

In other words, the decomposition of images into lots and lots of little marks was a conceptual step towards the pixel. In this telling, typewriter art is not merely an ancestor of ASCII art, but of everything that goes on a screen. The television, the CRT monitor, the iPhone.

This suggests that learning how to code is not enough to change how we think. Yes, coding does provide a certain structure to one’s thoughts. But there is a more important — and often ignored aspect — behind programming: through code, and the recognition that algorithmic similarity occurs over and over, we can see the similarities between different spheres of knowledge.

we’re at a parallel moment to what happened to painting when the camera was invented. In order to survive, it had to adapt, turn in a direction away from the portrayal of realism, thus the birth of impressionism and abstraction. Writing is facing a set of machines that, similarly has rendered its primary task obsolete: the Internet. In order to survive, it too will have to change its course, though I don’t feel it will go toward abstraction, rather it will be mimetic and replicative, involving notions of distribution of over ideas of content and narrative, what has been driving writing for centuries.