t byfield on Wed, 7 Nov 2007 12:24:33 +0100 (CET) |
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Re: <nettime> Goodbye Classic ? |
[email protected] (Tue 11/06/07 at 05:58 PM +0100): > You can work around it with emulators like SheepSaver and Basilisk II. True, but it's also worth noting that this kind of solution is part of the broad trend of -- I'll use a phrase that floated by somewhere I've forgotten -- devolving risk to the consumer. I hope I don't need to add that 'risk' and 'consumer' are very loaded terms; it might make more sense to speak of devolving additional roles and responsibilities to individuals. Either way, the point is that requisite levels of technical know-how are becoming an increasingly burdensome aspect of many kinds of cultural activity and exchange. It doesn't take much technical experience to check out a book from a library, make a photocopy, keep an eye on the movie listings of repertory movie houses, record a cassette tape, or bend a hanger into a makeshift TV antenna. And indeed the CD-ROM as a storage and transport medium has proven to be astoundingly durable; the first one I saw was 1980 or 1981, when the word on the street was expressed in terms of the faults of vinyl -- so, for example, it was claimed that you could run over a CD with a car and it'd still play. I never actually saw an 'industry rep' make that claim, but I assume that the person who owned that insanely expensive CD playback device heard it from an interested party -- back in that now-inconceivable world when it would take a full- fledged [and -funded] technical specialist or investigative journalist to dredge up more accurate facts. That might seem digressive, but it's not: the volume and velocity of ambient technical 'knowledge' needed to do anything more than merely 'consume' anything other than the 'media' put in front of us is really breathtaking compared to just a few years ago. What's even more amazing is the ease with which this knowledge transfer takes place. My daughter, who's just over two, can: (1) reliably disable the keypad lock on my mobile phone using a technqiue I haven't figured out; (2) plug a USB cable into a USB plug (as opposed to Firewire, say); (3) unreliably but persistently manipulate a remote control to maneuver through chapters on a DVD and songs on a Mac; and so on. No one taught her any of this; on the contrary, most of these activities are ultimately little more than dressed-up versions of the kinds of cognitive puzzles that are typical fatures of toys made for kids that age. There are lots of ways to interpret this; one importan one, I think, is to acknowledge that the flipside of what's often spoken of in terms of cultural loss is also a testament to human ingenuity. You needn't look much further than, say, the Dead Media archives to see how *little* has been lost. Or, if you'd like, you can look back as far as the mythopoetic burning of the Library of Alexandria. Would it be nice to have all the books? Sure. But let's not delude ourselves: if we *did* have them, the result would be parochial bickering among specialists in various fields of classical studies. The loss en masse has a much broader value, as a symbol in all its luminous generality. The same applies to more recent references like _Fahrenheit 451_: this or that camp may invoke it to promote the idea that its world is being destroyed, but, really, does anyone propose any *specific* work will be lost? Maybe, but not nearly as often as people invoke it as a ~metaphor for a more discurive loss. But why should it be the responsilibility of the 'consumer' to conjure up ways to preserve particular media objects? Why shouldn't it equally be the responsibility of those who made the works in question to 'update' their works? Maybe, as you suggest and based on the immanent lessons of the problem, into what they think will be more neutral, dirable forms? I've bumped into this in a few forms recently: Hypercard stacks for kids; William Forsythe's _Improvisation Technologies_ CD-ROM; and an unfinished project of my own, a 'fictional phone book' that consisted of a mass of my own amateur programming in high-level languages to extract data from the first consumer-level databases of national addressing info. In the case of the Hypercard stacks, there's a micro-fandom scene that's given pointers about how to port the works (albeit in Japanese, which isn't my forte); I wouldn't think of suggesting to the authors that they bore a responsibility to port the works to a newer (and equally ephemeral) format. In the case of Forsythe's work, I think there's a strong case to be made than ZKM, which played an important role in publishing the work, to play a similar role in preserving it. And in the case of my own, unfinished project, the 'context' has changed so dramatically that it would make sense to finish it not to complete it but to *reconstruct* it as a token from the different world of, oh, 1993. Which brings us to your next point: > But, at the risk of sounding like a zealot, this is the typical > example of how proprietary software platforms, and dependency on them > [which includes dependency on binary compatibility], will always bite > you in the end. The problem wouldn't exist if those media works had > been written as Web CGIs in Perl outputting HTML 2.0, or generating > JPEGs, for example. You do sound like a zealot, which is fine -- no judgment of any kind is needed or appropriate. But it's important to recognize that the kinds of standards you mention (Perl, JPEG, etc) are, as you suggest, more resilient because they're open -- but only 'more' resilient. Perl is not Latin, and JPEGs are not the codex; or maybe they are -- the result is the same, only the time scale changes. Adhering to these standards, whosen 'openness' is defined and evaluated in large part against the backdrop of dominant proprietary standards, would grant these works at most a few more decades of compatibility. You could point at something like I/O/D's Webstalker and lament the fact that it was written as a Director Projector -- but that was fact was an explicit aspect of its creation in its context and, equally important, one reason it was such a success in that context. If it had been written in an open standard, it would have been inaccessible to most of the people who appreciated it -- who weren't about to invest in some baroque hack like Tenon's MachTen (or better, A/UX). Back in the day, as they say, some SoHo artist whose name I've forgotten made what then seemed like a horribly cynical piece, called "Talent," I think -- a dozen or so headshots of the art stars of that art season. I have no idea what the artist who made it thought, but it aged quickly and, I think, well -- and though I haven't seen it in close to twenty years, I'd venture to say that it's probably one of the finest pieces of art that came out of that scene. The particulars about who went on to become blue-chip or has-been are less important than the -- to use the phrase of the day -- 'generative' quality of the distinctions as they unfold over time. We don't know which standards will be accepted or applied in the future; and while it's certainly worth considering which ones will survive, it's also worth considering how paying too much attention to the imagined future historicity of what we make can remove us from making things here and now. Cheers, T # distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission # <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism, # collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets # more info: http://mail.kein.org/mailman/listinfo/nettime-l # archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: [email protected]