No one likes spoilers. In this episode, Martin explains the lengths to which he has gone to avoid spoilers for the upcoming Star Wars movie Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker, along with what’s frustrating about modern trailers and how they could be changed to restore mystery and intrigue for audiences.
Something that we hear about frequently these days is how we need to prepare for the future of work. With the growing use of automation, artificial intelligence and online services, many different jobs that are currently performed by humans will continue to be taken over by efficient machines.
People will apparently have to focus on developing soft skills and creativity—the very things that make them human and superior to a machine. That is, at least until machines are so advanced that they can replicate or outperform humans in creative endeavours. Really, nothing is safe.
We’re already in the midst of this seismic societal shift and for those who are unfamiliar with the terminology, it’s generally referred to as the ‘Fourth Industrial Revolution’ or ‘Industry 4.0’ (I cringe at the second moniker).
As far as I’m concerned, although many of the technologies that are replacing (and will continue to replace) humans are new, the trend of replacing humans in general is not. There’s a reason that it’s referred to as the fourth revolution: this has all happened before. Humanity survived the earlier march of mechanisation.
Still, while I try to retain some optimism for the future and remember that history does tend to repeat itself, it does feel strange and somewhat unsettling to see tangible examples of this societal shift in person. This isn’t just a future thing; it’s happening now.
One instance of such human replacement presented itself when my wife and I went to see a movie on the weekend. Upon entering the cinema with our tickets in Apple Wallet, already booked online, we expected to go to a counter to have a human scan our barcodes and let us through the foyer. This was not the case; we were confronted by a normal counter, which one would expect to see manned, but instead had automatic scanners and printers ready to receive us in front of where a person would normally be standing.
To be clear, we are accustomed to seeing automatic checkouts at supermarkets; the difference there is that it is a new kind of space in the supermarket, with a series of computers and scanners arranged appropriately with a human stationed nearby to provide assistance. In the case of the cinema ticket counter, machines had been installed into the very place where a human being would traditionally stand. This was not the creation of a new interface or service context; it was the presentation of pure human replacement, an awkward transition into what the company clearly envisages to be the future.
All in all, the movie was most enjoyable and we had a great evening. That being said, there was something strange and lacking about going into a cinema, which is fundamentally a public place, and not having to deal with a person in receiving a ticket. There was no one there to rip a ticket, scan a digital equivalent or simply say, ‘Enjoy the movie’.
Yes, this is one small example of automation out of many possible situations, however it is a noticeable change that can affect how you understand and move through such a space. It alters the experience. Cinemas should be competing with automated alternatives in the home like Netflix by providing a human-service experience, not falling into the trap of dehumanising their service offerings and ultimately losing their point of differentiation.
We should ask ourselves: in the quest for incredible efficiency over ‘slow’ human interaction, what are we losing in the long run?
These days, we’re all drowning in technological devices and social media… but does it have to be this way? In this episode, Martin reflects on his own use of online accounts, covering both the rubbish that he left behind and how he aims for more meaningful consumption and interaction today.
After work today, I had my final video call for the year with my primary supervisor, Kate. (Chris is on leave.) Naturally, we had great fun dealing with various technical difficulties before starting our discussion, as we fought Google Hangouts, Slack and Cisco WebEx, which all failed to create and maintain a proper connection. FaceTime thankfully saved the day.
In the lead-up to this chat, I had been trying to consider the real value of narrative to my project—investigating the media ecology of niche tech podcasting and the stories of fans—so that I can formulate more explicit thesis questions to frame my project. I intend to use narrative enquiry (a qualitative research method) in this project down the track, as I did for my Honours research.
Two passages in Lance Strate’s (2014) article ‘Notes on Narrative as Medium and a Media Ecology Approach to the Study of Storytelling’ were particularly helpful in framing this discussion with my supervisor. Even if you’re not super-plugged into the topics that interest me, what he has to say about storytelling is relevant to every human being on the planet:
‘Storytelling is produced by social interaction, a product of transactions, of relationships between human beings. Narrative represents a relationship between source and receiver… It becomes easy to lose sight of this fact because we tend to focus on texts rather than contexts, to pay attention to the content and ignore the medium, which brings us back to “the medium is the message” as a call to pay attention. For this reason, Postman described the media ecology approach as context analysis (2006)’ (p. 9); and
‘The future of storytelling lies in the continued shift away from narrative as text, and towards the fuller development of narrative as environment. In conjunction with the electronic media and especially the new media, narrative will increasingly involve interaction and collaboration in its creation, and its reception, social narrative as a form, and social storytelling as an activity… These and other mutations are aspects of the continuing evolution of narrative, as it interacts with other media, at each turn releasing bursts of creativity, what McLuhan referred to as hybrid energy (1964)’ (p. 23).
The idea of ‘context over text’ is very relevant to the idea of podcasting, as podcast networks and their shows, hyperlinked show notes and supplementary social channels all contribute to a greater environment and context than a single audio stream of storytelling. Furthermore, to my mind, interaction and collaboration between both producers and listeners are integral to creating the overall narrative. There is no show if either party is missing.
As usual, Kate was exceptionally helpful in her feedback about my reading so far, my understanding of narrative and my preliminary ideas for thesis questions.
Most profoundly, she reminded me to remain personal and reflective in my work, as I tend to get a bit carried away in my reading and research. It is still early days for me and she reminded me that in addition to establishing clear research questions and citing scholarly evidence, I need to remain grounded and aware of why I am doing this in the first place. Before embarking on any extended writing that is teeming with sources, I need to write for myself and elaborate on what I know and love about podcasting… before it’s too late. Too often, apparently, people delve into research, only to become inundated with texts and forget what they loved about the topic years down the track. Right now, I have the opportunity to discuss what interests me before I’m ‘tainted’.
I am grateful to have two great supervisors in Kate and Chris: both bring very different interests to the table, but they both encourage me to question my assumptions and expectations—both about the overall research process and my own capability.
As we approach the summer holidays, it’s reassuring to know that I’m on the right track. Kate has reminded me that I need to enjoy this process and reflect on why chose to undertake it. As long as the reasons are clear in my mind, the next few years should be much easier.
It’s hard to find someone who doesn’t enjoy movies but some people don’t always think about the crucial role of the soundtrack. In this podcast episode, Martin is inspired by a noisy neighbour and a fellow Micro.blog user to discuss one of his favourite movie soundtracks and what makes it stand out from others, even years after it was released.
Fellow Micro.blog user Andrew Canion—who suggested this audio rumination—on the Micro Monday podcast, which highlights various users of the service and how they blog
The latest episode of Recode Decode includes a fantastic interview with Deborah Rutter, the president of the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C. in the United States.
I had no idea about the Kennedy Center prior to listening to this but I found it absolutely riveting. On the show, Swisher asks Rutter not only about the centre’s history, but also about her varied career and the ways in which she believes that technology can enrich the performing arts. Later in the episode, they discuss the centre’s new collection of free, ‘immersive learning spaces’, called REACH, which is a great example of technology and the performing arts working together to engage diverse audiences.
This was a stand-out line for me, spoken by Rutter:
Technology is a way for you to figure out what you want to do with your primary activity. Don’t try and build technology for technology’s sake but to advance what you want to do with whatever your art form is.
As someone who loves digital devices, I can really relate to this. I don’t want my social accounts and computers to rule me; I want to use them in a way that helps me to be creative and engage with others.
Perhaps the simplest of all grammatical concepts is the noun. If you went to an Australian public school, as I did, teachers often gave a very clear and concise explanation for what constitutes a noun: it is either a person, place or thing (notice that each explanatory word is a noun itself!).
Of course, it’s much more interesting than this. You can have general nouns, concrete nouns, abstract nouns, gerunds, collective nouns… the list goes on.
What I find confuses people most however, is the difference between common and proper nouns in English. Oxford English Dictionary defines them as follows:
Common noun: a noun denoting a class of objects or a concept as opposed to a particular individual; and
Proper noun: a name used for an individual person, place or organisation, spelled with an initial capital letter, e.g. Jane, London and Oxfam.
Quite simply, the difference is whether the noun deserves a capital letter or not. A place name, such as ‘Melbourne’, deserves one, but a general word like ‘milk’ does not.
In languages like German, it’s different—all nouns are assigned a capital letter, regardless of their significance or what they represent. A proper noun like Otto, the abstract noun Fröhlichkeit (cheerfulness) and the common noun Milch (milk) all have capitals in German.
Back to English, you just have to learn to understand the difference and deal with what seems to be (but isn’t) inconsistent. Unfortunately, too many people fail to understand this distinction and include capital letters in common nouns. To give you an example, consider the qualification ‘Master of Business Administration’. In this particular name, all the nouns ‘master’, ‘business’ and ‘administration’ are common, but combined they form the official title of a qualification, which earns them the right to have a capital letter. The title is a proper noun in the form of a group.
I have noticed increasingly, however, that people see such titles and do not realise that they are in title case; instead, they believe that all fields—whether business administration, science, engineering or law—are all official things that require a capital letter.
It has become such a visual scourge online (at least for me), that I have chosen to classify it with a new term: CAPITALISEm.
The growing phenomenon of CAPITALISEm is not confined to professional spheres; it’s also prevalent on retail signage. This week, I spotted this puzzling example at a Myer shop, which looks like it was written by someone who thinks that Everything on the Sign is really important.
After reading this sign, one could assume that there are 60 people called ‘Security Camera’, one person by the name of ‘Security Personnel’ and an indeterminable number of people called ‘Merchandise Tagging Systems’. Furthermore, they are all being ‘used’ in some way, which I don’t wish to imagine.
Moving to the next sentence, the writer has switched to the German tradition of capitalising the abstract nouns ‘Safety’, ‘Security’ and ‘Merchandise Protection’—all undoubtedly significant elements of the human condition. Finally, the beneficiaries of these abstract nouns are ‘Valued Customers’. I can only assume that Myer believes that all visitors to its shops are called ‘Valued Customer’.
The icing on the cake is that neither of the two sentences end with a full stop and only one noun on the entire sign has not been granted the privilege of CAPITALISEm: ‘store’. With the capitalisation of this common noun, someone at Myer could have convinced me that they were going for some sort of super-innovative retail title case, however this reveals that it was in fact only foolish inconsistency. Someone wrote this poorly, someone ordered it to be made, someone made it and then someone put it on the wall. Nowhere along the line did someone look at this and say, ‘This looks ridiculous’.
Moreover, it is possible that with a logo in all capital letters, MYER is Australia’s leading advocate for the new wave of CAPITALISEm. The company clearly cannot envisage a world in which the capital letter does not reign SUPREME.
The next time that you read a Post online about the growing Importance of measurable Data in effective Brand Storytelling or browse a Menu and choose to order roast Lamb with a red Wine Jus on a bed of mashed Potato, grilled Asparagus and Cherry Tomatoes, point out these rogue, nonsensical capital letters and ensure that you do not fall into the same habit in your writing.
For years, I’ve joked that one of the most frustrating things about visiting one of our local shopping centres, Figtree Grove, has been getting caught behind various elderly customers and their trolleys. No matter how determined you may be to duck in and out of the place quickly for a bottle of milk, you’ll end up stuck behind a convoy of trolleys through automatic doors, at the checkout and in the car park. Sometimes, if you’re really lucky, you’ll even run into three different sets of friends along the way, turning five minutes into 50 minutes.
Being a Seinfeld fan, this regular predicament has always reminded me of one of Jerry’s opening sets from the TV show, in which he describes how retirees like his parents drive in Florida. Conveniently enough for linking and quoting purposes, it also features in this transcript from a 1998 live show:
I just can’t drive around there. You know how these old people drive… They drive slow, they sit low. That is their motto. The state flag of Florida should be just a steering wheel with a hat and two knuckles on it. And they left that turn signal on since they left the house that morning. That’s a legal turn in Florida. It’s known as an eventual left. You can signal this week, turn any following year of your life. What is that age that old people reach when they decide when they back out of their driveway, they’re not looking anymore? You know how they do that? They just go: “Well, I’m old and I’m coming back.” “I survived. Let’s see if you can.”
This is certainly the attitude that I’ve seen from older customers in their navigation of the shopping centre and believe me, I’ve always tried to remain patient and respectful.
Well, today Natasha and I saw in person the kind of reckless road behaviour that Jerry described, which not only eclipsed our regular trolley experience but even his driveway story. While cruising through the suburbs to visit family, we encountered this unlikely road warrior…
Clearly, this man cares neither for the safety nor the schedules of his fellow drivers. He rolls how he wants. It took some time for him to hear us and move out of the way and he’s fortunate that we were patient and careful. (Playing songs by Earth Wind & Fire in the car might have assisted with this.)
Although we may laugh or cringe, there is surely a lesson in this: perhaps we all need be like this guy once in a while, just slowing down to enjoy the day, without caring what others may think.
Lounge Ruminator 