Final Reflections on 21 Tags!

So now that the 21 Tags are complete, here are my ruminations:

First, a link to the original idea (or I should say, the blog that covered the blossoming of this idea) or here on this blog.

And a link to final executed project demoed in class:

Originally – not that we had collectively agreed yet as a group of nine disparate members, sharing really only membership on Dodging for Columbine, the greatest dodgeball team known to academia – our first ruminations were to venture into Toronto Island and document its deep, dark secrets a la an elaborate geo-caching meets the Blair Witch Project sort of thing. The hook stemmed from a tidbit of history that one of the old lighthouse keepers on the island died/disappeared mysteriously and that the thirteenth step of the lighthouse was now haunted. We cooked up the possible idea that as a group we could find seven-plus stations on the island steeped in dark lore and set up geo-caching video-podding stations. Each member of the group would wear the same outfit and while two others would lure random individuals from the ferry to the seven locations, where they could record their confessions/thoughts/etc. and store it in the “virtual” geo-cached spot as an advanced new media time capsule. Needless to say, without GPS readers and no group accord, the idea died a slow death, and we began to ponder a much more feasible endeavor involving collective intelligence and integrating the now seven very different perspectives of the same geographic space. Our expectations originally were to incorporate as many concepts of new media production practice that we as a group were capable of achieving in a short span of time and in that sense, we were successful.

It is difficult to say how the outcome differs or corresponds to our objectives, because as a team of highly proficient filmmakers, photographers and academics, we were actually highly inexperienced as new media practitioners (in terms of web design, gaming or installation know-how). We did however achieve exactly what we set out to do, once we finally managed to coalesce as a group and understand the essence of merging collective and connected intelligence. We as individual artists discovered a means of presenting our unique perspectives (in the means by which we interpreted the 21 tags as photos and again as captions) while at the same time managing to unite this expressive content in an interface that explores a multi-perspective document of a geographic space without emphasizing individual identity or authorship.

One thing that was critical to the success of 21 Tags was the development of a plan of approach that incorporated a number of concrete ideas (experimental controls) with parameters to ensure that our individual perspectives did not overshadow the anonymity required of the collective project. Mark Laurie wrote and sealed a letter for each team member describing the protocol for the picture-taking day. We all had four hours to explore the island, discover the respective tags and document them with our SLR cameras and notepads (for the captions). Afterwards, we had until evening to transcribe the captions as PhotoShop pictures and the following day to work as a collective team in creating the interface and ironing our the kinks (re: broken links!).

Through 21 Tags I really discovered what collective and connected intelligence really require and what they can offer to documentary practice that limit more top-down approaches (such as film or photography). As an artist, particularly a filmmaker, the instinct is to have a clearly defined outlook or vision and to communicate this vision to a team of trained practitioners as a director or manager. With collective teamwork, however, it is important that all members of the team act as both the queen and the drone (of the hive mind, for lack of a better metaphor). We learned how to create an interface or framework (the 21 different objects to document on the island) that requires the equal contribution of our individual perspectives to strengthen the overall expression of the idea.

If given another chance or more time to develop the core ideas of 21 Tags, I would include the option to view the various perspectives (the photos and captions) of the individual artists as separate narratives. As my intention to document the island as a descriptive, fanciful explorer differs much from the more symbolic or ironic perspectives of my peers, it would be interesting to see this project “reverse engineered” to provide stronger context for the idea.

As a filmmaker who intends, at least for the short term to remain a filmmaker (though I do have very ludological tendencies!), the new media concepts of this course and of this project offer a more thorough extension to view and explore more narrative ideas. If I were, for example, to create a TV documentary that explores the rich historical lore of Toronto Island, new media strategies such as 21 Tags would be excellent supplementary tools for viewers interested in learning more about the idea, or as a marketing strategy to promote the original idea.

Woes of Synthetic Intelligence

As synthetic or artificial intelligence continues to evolve (at an exponential rate), in some ways it has far exceeded human intelligence (particularly in the purely mathematical ability to compute data) but there are still notable setbacks that prevent it from reaching the adaptive, emotional complexity of human intelligence.

As Simon Penny notes in “the Virtualization of Art Practice,” since the early successes of artificial intelligence, computer intelligence could excel at “logically complex but bounded problems such as playing chess” (Penny 1997) but that day-to-day tasks requiring “common sense” were much more difficult to program. Penny believes that abstract logical reasoning was more easily simulated in synthetic intelligence because the discipline of engineering has its roots in such thinking. Of course robotic navigation have since evolved considerably, allowing rudimentary common sense obstacles to be overcome with multiple sensors, remapping technology and collision detection.

The abilities to learn, grow and mature are still in relatively primitive stages in artificial intelligence, where the potential for autopoiesis (the ability for auto-creation, the way biological cells can self-replicate) is still a technologically infantile process. This is possibly because most artificial intelligence is limited by the Top-Down paradigm of thinking, which prevents any computational analysis of the greater picture – most synthetic intelligence makes decisions about certain data but does not extrapolate about the bigger picture. Penny notes that just as biologists move away from reductive and dualistic views of biology, it is discovered that deeply entangled relationships exist that allow large organic molecules such as DNA to reorganize themselves, computer engineers are focusing on more bottom-up research that could lead to true machine autopoiesis (Penny 1997).

The ability to create and innovate art are tasks particularly far from the reach of synthetic intelligence, though there are several programs now that can use complex algorithms to manufacture artificial poetry or music by feeding in multiple examples of “proficient art,” which are reverse engineered to the basic components.

An example of a seemingly simple (but altogether complex) setback includes the linguistic notion of “word sense disambiguation” (WSD), a function useful to search engine scripting. While humans can easily discern the difference between difference ‘senses’ of the same word (i.e. homophones or additional obscure meanings) when given a contextual sentence (i.e. ‘let’s go fishing for bass’ or ‘the bass sound is cacophonous’), it is very difficult to develop algorithms that replicate this human ability in computational linguistics.

Issues of linguistic analysis in synthetic intelligence are also abundantly clear in most word processing grammar checkers, which are so faulty in their ability to identify actual errors (instead addressing stylistic choices like gender word use) that most users will turn off the irritating functions.

Works Cited

Penny, S. (1997). “The Virtualisation of Art Practice: Body Knowledge and the Engineering World View”. CAA Art Journal, Fall 1997.

Can Open-Ended Narrative Work?

An important concern of contemporary user-created narratives is that it has the potential to lose the high stakes, tense conflict and consequent emotional drama of traditional literary, cinematic or even linear gaming narrative.

In the last two decades of videogaming (currently we are in the seventh generation), both traditional, linear narratives and open-ended, user-created narratives have emerged and evolved a great degree. While gaming linear narratives demonstrated the ability to accomplish much of the emotional depth, symbolism and suspense witnessed in cinema or literature as early as the fifth generation (with mature stories in titles such as Metal Gear Solid, Final Fantasy VII and Xenogears gaining notable attention), more open-ended narratives faced a number of challenges in engaging players

Depending on the genre, some titles, including both single player games (ex. Elder Scrolls), or massively, multiplayer online RPGs (ex. World of Warcraft) allow the custom creation of an avatar that oftentimes does not speak or emote with other players or non-player-characters unless the user chooses to. Major plot threads can exist in these games, but these more open-ended games often emphasize multitudes of optional side quests, missions and subplots over one conventional narrative. Depending on the complexity of the interface and the virtual options available, players can do what they want, from farming and harvesting resources to becoming a local hero and building reputation or even to play the badguy, murdering innocent villagers or attacking and killing other players. Some titles, including those in the Grand Theft Auto series balance somewhere in the middle, allowing users to explore an open virtual space (in GTA IV, Liberty City is the spitting image of Manhattan island), completing optional missions, wandering aimlessly and taking advantage of a complex dating system, all without pursuing the optional central narrative, if they so choose to. But options are considerably limited compared to the free-world openness of Second Life or most MMORPGs.

It seems that the more polished, intuitive and innovative the gameplay, the more fixed the narrative is likely to seem. In Second Life, avatars can go anywhere they want, drive vehicles, interact with other intelligent characters or view works of art, created by users. However, the exploration and platforming movement is much more clunky than a linear action-adventure title (i.e. Tomb Raider or Ratchet and Clank); the driving control and collision detection is poor in comparison to a current-generation racing title (Gran Turismo) and the artistry on display pales next to the photorealistic or expressionistic beauty of the graphically advanced vistas seen in genre works. Needless to say, user-created narratives amongst communities of players, however unpredictable, lack the high stakes and drama of conventional narrative.

However as system hardware evolves to allow more seamless, immersive worlds, programmers can navigate the contrived limitations facing user-created narratives (side quests with cliched goals) and open-concept worlds (simplistic, horizontal exploration), where the goal is presumably a virtual world where any choice is possible, and where the outcome or consequences of those choice are as complex, believable and emotionally charged (or potentially even more so) as those made in the real world. The Holodeck on Star Trek seems like the obvious pinnacle of this path, where users can wholly immerse themselves in virtual spaces that simulate visual, aural, tactile sensations, the artificial intelligence mimics human intelligence and narrative stakes are exponentially high because the user is truly embodied in this realm.

Just as traditionally linear adventure titles like Tomb Raider offer the Lara Croft avatar more and more custom abilities and the worlds present multiple means of exploration (instead of one obvious trajectory from A to B), the graphical artistry and gameplay precision of open-ended user-determined narratives are quickly approaching the quality typically only experienced alongside limited narratives.

Embodiment in Horror Videogames

As an example of digital artistic expression and one of the New Media, gaming has demonstrated itself to be particularly effective at nurturing the notion of embodiment. We as users of videogame art are becoming better enabled to engage true emotional response as we control digital avatars in open environments and nonlinear narratives. This has been illustrated particularly well in horror gaming, where users can activate the fight-or-flight response through control of their avatar in games like Resident Evil, Silent Hill or Alone in the Dark. I’ve taken and updated excerpts from a paper I wrote for a conference on videogames and popular culture in Kansas City last October.

Contrary to popular conjecture, videogames do not desensitize us to the experience of fear and terror; rather, they re-sensitize us to it. By placing users in control of a narrative’s protagonist in bleak situations, “survival horror” videogames reengage the primordial fight-or-flight response to fear. Consequently, as decision-making can result in virtual life or death, videogames allow for a more instinctive sensory experience of true terror. Other cultural media, such as literature, film and television, limit the genuine experience of fear and terror by confining the audience experience to passive reaction or intellectualization, thereby preventing any form of reactive decision-making, or agency. In these instances, the fight-or-flight response is obviously pre-chosen by the story’s author for the story’s characters, over whom the viewer has no control, which decreases the fear response, particularly for audiences conditioned to archetypes of suspense designed to hide this fact (desensitization). Active media such as videogames, however, bring users closer to the fundamental connection between fear and survival by placing users within the narrative and demanding instinctive choices that stimulate this fight-or-flight response.

In passive media (literature or film or photography), there is a paradox facing the creation of suspense and fear when viewers become desensitized to this pattern and no longer feel a sense of uncertainty, such as with repeat viewings or predictable or clichéd films. Action or horror videogames, on the other hand, do not suffer from this paradox, because “the player can almost never know the outcome of the game with certainty” (Frome, Smuts, 2004)

It is no secret that videogames stimulate highly emotional responses in gamers. Psychological studies are frequently conducted to illustrate how violent action games “increase aggressive behavior and emotional outbursts” (Kardaras, 2004). Some of these studies tend to focus on the negative implications of games affecting players with boosts in heart rate, blood pressure, adrenaline and testosterone levels. When placed in virtual danger, the mind and body of gamers’ are placed “in the same heightened state as someone in actual physical peril” (Linnea, 2003). If an adventure game can better stimulate feelings of tension, frustration and thrills than equivalent action film or literature, and survival horror titles the corresponding sensations of dread, suspense and terror, is this not an indication of the medium’s efficiency as immersive entertainment?

Even though videogames have yet to reach a point of filmic verisimilitude in the depiction of horrific imagery, by placing viewers in control of the character, he or she becomes directly responsible for this character’s survival, removing the need to willingly suspend disbelief. Such experiences demand such an intense level of focus and concentration that they do not allow for a meta-gaming process of intellectualization, which might lead to desensitization. In contrast, by engaging these intense levels of stress and emotion or the fight-or-flight response typically rarely encountered in the “real world” gamers actually re-sensitize with it and embodiment takes place in the virtual realm.

Works Cited

Frome, Jonathan and Aaron Smuts (2004) “Helpless Spectators: Generating Suspense in Videogames and Film,” Text/Technology 13.1: 13-34.

Linnea, Sharon (2005) “Video Game Values”, BeliefNet.com, http://www.beliefnet.com/story/130/story_13096_2.html, Retrieved June 1, 2007

Kardaras, Eleni (2004). “The Effect of Video Games on the Brain”. Serendip, http://serendip.brynmawr.edu/bb/neuro/neuro04/web1/ekardaras.html, Retrieved May 30, 2008

New Media Production

< Note this is transcribed from the TEAM blog docnewmedia.wordpress.com

For our new media group project, we have decided to undertake a distributed, photo-based, online documentary on Toronto Island. We will collect and upload our media (via WI-FI) on Sunday, June 15th, coinciding with the final race in the Cycle Messenger World Championships, to be held on the Island.

Our documentary process will resemble in some ways a “scavenger hunt,” in which each of the project’s seven participants will be assigned a list of “tags” to find and photograph. Each team member will submit a shortlist of tags, and from that list, the final list will be chosen randomly upon arrival at the island, to avoid premeditated photographic strategies and encourage discovery (and interpretation) of the tags within the Island space. Once at the site, each team member will be able to interpret and photograph the tag-words as she or he sees fit, and the photographs will be uploaded in real-time to a social-media site (such as Flickr), such that each “tag” will be displayed as a series/grid of images. Thus, we are taking an unconventional approach to tagging, in that the tags precede the images, and the result should be a kind of typology assembled by several authors, possibly interspersed with seeming non-sequiturs/double-entendres/etc, reflecting the group members’ varying semantic interpretations of the tag words. We would also like to map the images geographically (perhaps using Google Maps – let’s ask Alex) to chart the various trajectories of the group members throughout the site and build an idiosyncratic picture of the site according to the tagging parameters.

We are going to scout the Island and test its WI-FI access tomorrow. (Mark Tollefson is helping us with this). The ferry to Hanlan’s Point leaves at 1 pm; thus, it would be best if group members arrive at the Ferry Docks by about 12:45. Please note: I have a dentist’s appointment in Scarborough tomorrow and may be late in arriving at the Island, but I will call another member to let you know when I will be arriving.

We still have several things to work out in advance. First and foremost is the web interface and uploading procedures – will we use a blog/Google Maps/Flickr/etc, and will we permit photoshopping and/or some kind of assemblage of the like-tagged photos into single, grid-patterned images? – let’s determine this with Alex’s help. Speaking of which, let’s try to meet Alex ASAP, to get her advice and approval. We will decide on a time tomorrow, and then assign someone to write to her.

That is all for now, but please: keep in mind that this is my understanding of the group project as discussed earlier after today’s class, and if I have not articulated something correctly, or if you disagree or have something to add (practical or theoretical), please feel free to post your thoughts on the group blog.

Second Life VS. MMORPGs

Playing Second Life, which is a MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role-playing game), the notion of bringing disparate peoples from anywhere on the planet together in multiple virtual environments (islands as they’re referred to in the game) is limited, in my opinion, by the lack of inherent narrative or goals. While the variety of people tinkering in virtual environments (whether for business or for pleasure) are certainly increasing and targeting less gaming-niche users, the majority of these users still seem to be individuals that are typically less social than their average peers. This poses a problem in Second Life, which as a gaming interface provides no direct benefits to communicating with others within the virtual space.

Many users spend countless hours customizing the appearance, items and behavior (re: scripts) of their avatars, but avoid making meaningful contact with other random users to encourage community and connected intelligence. Through our exploration of several notable locations during our lecture, I only conducted conversations with other classmates and nobody besides other classmates communicated or attempted to communicate with my avatar, despite the fact that I intentionally behaved flamboyantly and activated visually unique scripts (turning my avatar on fire, dancing, muscle beach posing) to stand out. Perhaps it was clear I was a noob (new user) to veteran players, but with no reason to work with other users (no monsters to slay on masse; no potions to collect in faraway realms) with direct benefit, my social interaction in this persistent space was severely limited. One problem I noticed is that it seems some islands are completely empty, while others, including “Hippie Pay,” are full (because you make virtual money simply by being there) and it can be difficult to find other communicative users.  In other MMORPGs, like EverQuest, World of Warcraft and Final Fantasy XI, however, the games encourage cooperation with other thinking, emoting avatars because working together (connected and collective intelligence) is crucial to accomplishing tasks like the slaying of certain deadly foes (which one or two players could not face on their own) or to voyage into particularly dangerous realms. As such, these games feature the ability to form “parties,” into which you can recruit other real players and the game design feature elaborate means to communicate with other players in the various realms (i.e. servers) that have tagged themselves as looking for parties (which are customizable by party level, party goal and party role [i.e. healer, warrior or sorcerer]). So if you are exploring a desolate portion of the map, you can you the interface to locate other willing player characters. Communities (guilds) are formed of like-minded individuals looking to harvest resources (to make better weapons, armor, items) or simply chat, emote and dance much like one would in Second Life, but with more inherent benefits to doing so. This motivates synchronous communication (the building of a live community of play), where user-created narratives will in fact take place, however drama and stakes-free they may be.

Not only do these goal-oriented MMORPGs have more intuitive means of connecting virtual players and creating a space where user-created narratives are limitless, they reward virtual teamwork and strategy with progress and material benefits (experience points, magic items, new abilities). The benefits to teamwork in Second Life are more abstract (i.e. teaching and learning in virtual classrooms), perhaps reflecting the real world. But considering a large majority of Second Life users are probably not as socially educated as their non-gaming peers, they often seem to behave like they might in the real world: introverted and quietly.

Of course, Second Life does differ from its strictly gaming cousins by offering a virtual space to develop original elements, like artworks and collectable objects, potentially allowing the game world to be used as a simulation space for scientists, academics and the like. And as a simulation space or discussion forum for individuals located throughout the globe, the potential for a persistent virtual space like Second Life to connect users in ways that differ from role-playing games is palpable. I just do not see it quite yet.

Urban Sensing and Big Brother

As sensing technology becomes increasingly advanced, fears of government surveillance and privacy invasion become more and more prevalent, particularly in a post 9/11 culture of relative fear. In “Urban Sensing: Out of the Woods,” Dana Cuff, Mark Hansen and Jerry Kang explore the notion of traditionally scientific data collection moving into the realms of politics, aesthetics and everyday life and some of the interesting ramifications of this shift.

While at this point in time the “full centralization model” scientists enjoy in the field (where they control the placement of various sensors, the data they collect and the ways in which the data is collected) can’t be realistically adapted to the urban environment because scientists lack access to certain properties and they can’t individual eschew privacy rights without breaking the law, the authors believe that this data will become available via devices like the cell phone (Cuff et al, 2007). Already most cell phones are capable of sensing location (as GPS receivers), images/movement (as cameras) and obviously sound. Within years, they could also be programmed to detect atmospheric conditions such as pollution levels as well temperature changes, radiation levels and who knows what else. In the article, Cuff, Hansen and Kang discuss the problems of having various individuals who lack scientific training and objective perspective as the beacons of data collection and that the consequent data could be biased or otherwise flawed. (Cuff et al, 2007)

Perhaps however, at a certain point in the ominous near future, probably after another incident like the WTC attacks again forces the US government to reexamine privacy freedoms and the constitution of surveillance. As we face the sort of singularity (major paradigm shift) that Web 2.0, advancing computer technologies and new media means of expression bring, all it would take is some form of major incident to make these pervasive but optional elements of our lives absolutely mandatory. The technology exists for us all to have chips embedded in our bodies that regulate our heart rates, blood pressure and other biological readings. These chips could also monitor and record our location, our bank and credit accounts, our genetic histories and predispositions towards cancer, homosexuality or even criminal behavior. As part of the paradigm shift, these chips could very well become mandatory implants. Perhaps, depending on the severity of the global incident that prompts this new privacy infringement, certain sensors will remain “optional,” like the monitoring of financial accounts and GPS locations.

Scientists fear that “bad data processing” and the “observer offect” could lead to amateurish data collection via “cheap, unverified, uncalibrated sensors,” with no pretense of neutrality or comprehensiveness (Cuff et al 2007).  If these sensors, whether they be in cell phones, PDAs our embedded in our actual bodies, remain optional, the notion of connected intelligence will become critical and scientists will need to pay special observation to discerning relevant data from “junk data”. However, with the Big Brother effect—a conservative government that enforces the scientific, economic and legal benefits of total surveillance—the paradigm will shift more towards collective intelligence, where the hive-mind is strengthened by mandatory cooperation of the data-collecting drones.

Terrifying sacrifice for human freedom, yes, but big leap forward for digital singularity!

Works Cited

Cuff, D., Hansen, M., Kang, J. (2007). Urban Sensing: Out of the Woods. Communications of the Association for Computing Machinery.  url: http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1092932, Retrieved May 28, 2008