The Future of Our Society, autocorrected

During my job search today I came across this on craigslist:

"graphic tudor wanted"

I wanted to ask of the requirements: do i need to suffer from gout? have had several wives beheaded?

But here's the thing:

The person who posted this ad up probably doesn't care about spelling - it's next to grammar as an antiquated function in our society. During the reign of "i know there's spellcheck somewhere but I always forget to use it" I thought we were on the road to more pristine communication. Then texting brought in the great devolution of communication; however, while in school, I noticed few of my fellow students could arrange a complete sentence. So, now, in our technological nanny state, we put in the hands of these same people, software that "autocorrects" bad spelling, usually with hilarious and unpredictable results.

But the biggest result: people no longer have to feel the social stigma of being a bad speller - they just have to add the disclaimer ("stupid autocorrect") to the bottom of every post, every text, every email and they are automagically saved by the very technology that mocked them to begin with.

Advice, virtually

I noticed in the last round of 2013 predictions that this would be the year there will be no more "guessing". Have a question, look it up. Speculation is unnecessary; you have the capability to find any answer at your fingertips (unless you're on wifi, like me). 

Throw Google a juicy question and many search results will turn out to be forums: other people worrying about the same thing I am. Advice, like anything on the web, is ubiquitous - and you have to be vigilante about whose to take. Posting on forums is a good practice, but like any conversation in which you try to engage strangers (or know-it-alls), prepare to be trashed or ignored.

Apple's forums are a good example. The unspoken rule is never to ask anything without laying out the exact specifications of your computer or device, its OS, its RAM, maybe even its color. It saves a lot of time and stupid quips; however, more often than not, most of my questions on Apple's forums go mysteriously unanswered. Understandably, the database is huge, possibly hundreds of questions are posted every hour and the chances that mine will snag an expert's attention can be dim. Still, it's an epic fail if I'm in dire need of some virtual I.T.

It's also prudent to be wary of multi-paged discussions. Usually these are filled with folks raking back and forth over the same territory, throwing in their $.03, contradicting each other. I spent an entire evening this week reading through an Apple forum about why Netflix doesn't stream well with AppleTV. Hours later, I still had no good answer, and streaming Netflix over my AppleTV still sucks. 

Perhaps the only thing more satisfying than posing personal needy questions online is to incite fervent opinion. I use one of LinkedIn's graphic design forums to get other professionals' takes on current working conditions. This is one of the best functions of a social network like LinkedIn - introducing yourself to your community by delving into current issues, and in the course, revealing bits of yourself as well. Opinions seem to flow easier than answers in the virtual world.

iPod resetting instructions, how best to clean my saltwater aquarium, what's the latest rumor coming out of Walt Disney World, how to treat shoulder bursitis naturally, how many times has T'Pau shown up on Star Trek…my google search inquiries are all being filed somewhere in order to directly market to me. A blessing? A curse? Privacy invasion? It's still a flawed system. A few months ago I searched for natural answers to sciatica relief. Now every banner ad on mostly every website is about, yes, sciatica relief. Good thing I didn't search for reasons why genital parasites are on the verge of extinction because of all this excessive manscaping.

Apologizing, digitally

The fact that this apology does not exist anywhere on paper, that it was created in TextEdit on my MacMini, then copy-and-pasted onto Blogspot, is in a major way the reason why I need to say how sorry I am it has gotten to this.

I apologize to Borders and many small, independent bookstores (except the tiny B Dalton's that used to be in all the malls, which were - let's be honest - more of an irritation for serious booklovers) for purchasing my books on amazon.com. True, most of them were used, and the inventory impeccable. I grew up trolling the literally dust-filled bins of used paperback palaces, some maddeningly unorganized, most with 100 copies of crap romance novels and nothing close to what I was looking for. But now they're mostly gone because of me. The fact that Barnes & Noble might not survive 2013 is my fault as well.

I apologize to now-defunct record stores - large and small. Tower Records was closing its doors in New Orleans soon after Katrina recovery was in full swing, and I was there, scouring the shelves for deep, deep, discounts, fingering the bullet holes in the corpse. I often stopped by the Virgin Megastore in Downtown Disney before it went away, more to see what new chill compilations were out, but never to buy. In hometown Tampa Bay, after following Vinyl Fever through three locations, I even stopped trolling the 99 cent used disc bins. And all of this because iTunes allows me to purchase just one beautiful track out of an entire cd that might contain utter shite.

I apologize to all of those amazing independent cinemas that have had to close their doors. The real historic movie houses, like Tampa Theatre, only hang on due to intense corporate funding. Less glamourous palaces, like the just-shuttered Beach Theatre in St. Petersburg, were snuffed out by me, cacooned at home thanks to Netflix, who slide luscious indie and foreign film into my post office box every week.

I am deeply sorry for all the many businesses that I have abandoned in my quest for efficiency, low prices, high tech and customer satisfaction. And for my sins I now live in an area where every where I look is an Amscot, a Dollar Store, a place that will pay cash for my gold (if I had any). This is the barren landscape I deserve.

Music outlook, cloudy

This week, amazon.com emailed me to let me know that they uploaded music I'd purchased from 3 years of cd purchases onto my cloud player. For the 3 people in the world who don't use iTunes, this is probably a good thing.

I've bought a handful of mp3s from amazon over the past few years - mostly as lagniappe after spreading my cashflow around their hallways with large payloads like my Criterion Collection fetish. There once was a myth that amazon sold mp3s unavailable on itunes, but I haven't had any luck tracking down anything rare and beautiful; if it's not with one music service, it probably isn't on any other.

Since mp3s have become widely available, my cd purchasing has lived a rare and fragile existence, left to the odd deluxe repackaging (REM has been releasing 25th anniversary editions, as if I weren't old enough) so I only have about 925 songs in my cloud player.

Will amazon give me digital kindle versions of all the books I've purchased from them? Not in time for any of this year's apocalypses, apparently. Ditto for all those Criterion Collections that line my crypt, so I will remain cautiously grateful of having another way to hear my music in case the cd players fail, my ipods (all 3) crap out and Pandora gets dangerously dull and repetitious (and not very intuitive, but that's another post).

I won't advocate my fogey whine. I can look forward to a day (as some have already realized) where I will not be crowding my space with books, cds or dvds. Some modern folk don't seem to need anything more than a tablet because all their files and their software are in the cloud. As long as the solar flare/electromagnetic bomb doesn't ruin things and we'll be wishing we'd kept that ragged old paperback of On the Road to wile away the hours by candlelight, we'll all be fine and sublime.

Award season, diminishing

I'm not an award show devotee and you might not be either for several good reasons:

1.  Are these awards being voted on by industry leaders, peers, old fogies, corporations? And if it is a people's choice award, does the middle-ground rabble average really interest me, a (film/theatre/music/literature/et al) dilettante?

2. Many in the audience use award nominations and winners as an after-the-fact list of "proven" pieces of art to view or to purchase. Box office sometimes works the same way: if it's #1, it's gotta be good, right? If it wins an Oscar or Emmy, does that immediately mean it's a must-see?

3. Genre projects are the redheaded stepchildren (sci fi/horror/fantasy mostly) who rarely get recognized (unless it stays in its own backyard, like the Saturn or Hugo). As a result, many of my film and television favorites have never been nominated for major awards. Crowd pleasers are more often spotlighted, not cult favorites.

4. The Palme d'Or is all that matters.

     

Bowie, the next day

I'm sure there will be a lot of "Bowie on social security" jokes this year (except that he's a Brit and a millionaire). 2013 marks the first new David Bowie album since 2003. (although, he did become a dad again that year, so I'm sure he's been keeping busy). Put in perspective, he's still a baby compared to Willie Nelson, Leonard Cohen, Ringo & McCartney, Jagger & Richards.

It's a interesting phenomenon to have an artist consistently create work throughout most of my lifetime. Although I'm too young to remember psychedelic hippie Bowie or even glam Bowie, I was exposed to – and influenced by –  Berlin Bowie, New Wave Bowie and Techno Bowie. I imagine Bing Crosby (still spinning in his grave after conceding to duet with young Bowie back in an '70s xmas special that actually aired 2 weeks after his death) would be nonplussed to behold Bowie the 21st century crooner.

Appreciate Bowie the actor in any decade - whether The Man Who Fell to Earth, Absolute Beginners, The Hunger or Basquiat, The Prestige (as Nikola Tesla!) and his cameo in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me.  Even try to appreciate the vague sense of film bio that Velvet Goldmine tried so hard to be. (It grates worse on the Iggy Pop character, another legend who hits retirement age this year.) Let's hope Bowie writes his memoirs soon, because biographers can't seem to articulate his complete kaleidoscopic saga.

The new single, "Where Are We Now?", popped up today – and Bowie sounds a bit sad and gravelly – but he still lends a certain gravitas to a lush, somewhat bleak, sonic landscape. It seems right that 2013 will have a Bowie soundtrack filtering through its days, a Virgil leading me through every hellish circle.

   
     

Elementary, in the details

I had the chance to catch a few episodes of Elementary, the U.S. take on BBC's Sherlock, itself a 21st century update of detection, deduction and the art of fine, sometimes crazy tiny, detail. I am all for fine detail, a skill that is sadly neglected in our education system, but what makes both new versions of Sherlock Holmes' adventures palatable for the mainstream viewer is that the lead character is presented as a "high-functioning sociopath" to quote one of the shows. In other words, the only way an ordered mind can excel in our society is by acting out in the most disorderly ways: no social skills, no guile, no vanity, no use for authority - the many habits of highly deductive people.

As chance would have it, I also watched a brief video talk today on the subject of "should designers learn to code". I won't bore you with the outcome, as it is fundamentally self-evident, but I did perk up at the lecturer's spritely comment that it is somewhat fashionable to hire brilliant coder/developers who "verge on Asperger's" syndrome, to paraphrase out of context. As if that thin line between autism and ADHD can produce brilliant, if not cleverly hip,  individuals who may be useless in the real world but whose focused brain can mean a goldmine for any commercial enterprise. (In other words, they are good hires, just don't expect them to dress well or be up to date on Buck Wild.)

Both Sherlock versions have shown the detective describe himself as only having so much room in his brain (comparing it  to a hard drive) and all vacuous, useless, trivial information needs to be excised so that the brilliance of deduction can have the space it needs. And I think there's an interesting lesson here, as most of the viewing audience - myself included - has to ingest so much information in a day, the fine details of life can easily be lost, or worse: the big picture fades because the everyday minutiae of social networking, tweeting, texting, rss,  - and, sure, blogging -  distort, confuse and shroud sometimes both the forest AND the trees.