The Okayplayer messageboard is supplemental to the Okayplayer blog. Co-founded by Ahmir "Questlove" Johnson — the drummer and founding member of The Roots, a hip-hop band from Philadelphia — the blog and forum first served as the online presence for the artist collective known as “Okayplayer,” in which The Roots were involved. Their Okayplayer website went live in 1999, offering a space for fans and other artists to share in music discussion and creation. Today, the blog features reviews of hip-hop albums, songs, videos and concerts on its home page, as well as prominent links to offshoot sites, including okayafrica, largeup, and revivalist — sites that focus on African, Caribbean, and jazz culture and music, respectively. More popular is the forum, which is home to some of the most consistently active, opinionated, and well-informed hip-hop discussions on the internet. There are no offshoot sites, mobile apps, organized meetups, or alternative meeting spaces for members of the Okayplayer forum: this multifaceted forum is the sustaining lifeforce to the vibrant community of Okayplayer users, where all users can come together and share in discussion, dissection, creation, correction, uploading, downloading, and sounding off.
In my exploration of the site, I focused on a particular subsection of the entire forum called “The Lesson” – a subforum dedicated to discussion of hip hop primarily, but all music in general. Discussion on this forum is generally asynchronous, as several different topics may garner attention at the same time. The fluctuation of a thread’s relevance also drives this asynchronicity; an inactive thread may fall to a later page, only to shoot to the top of page 1 upon the post of a random user who wishes to add to the discussion after it has subsided. There are times when the majority of the community converges onto a particular thread, causing an almost synchronous sort of discourse. Rare but observable, this occurred on 2 separate occasions during my experience with the site: first when members of the underground teenage rap group Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All made their first nationally televised appearance on Late Night With Jimmy Fallon, and second when heralded rock band Radiohead suddenly released their newest album online, leading to a swift discussion of its, strengths, weaknesses, and its ranking among the band’s discography.
What sets this board’s organization apart form other forums is its presentation of posts. Opening a thread reveals first the full text of the original post, followed by a topic outline that simply lists the titles to the reply posts, followed by a proper presentation of every single post made in a relatively difficult-to-follow fashion. Given the difficulty of navigating the sea of posts beyond the topic outline, the most natural way of reading a thread is by simply viewing the topic outline with post titles, then clicking on the post titles themselves to be redirected to the actual posts. Conversations within topics are threaded as well, in that you can endlessly reply to a post that is a reply to another post. This can sometimes create an interesting form of dialogue where people simply communicate in the very limited space of the title of their post, or, as I learned to do very quickly, treat the title as a sort of cliffhanger, with the most important content of the post coming after the introduction provided by the title — for example, in the Radiohead album discussion thread, one might title their post “the best track was definitely...” and actually name the track in question (“Give Up the Ghost”) in the body of the post, only visible after clicking. The two-partedness of individual posts on Okayplayer lay the foundation for an intriguing textual expectation on the site. Fragmentary posts confined simply to a post title are as welcome as lengthy posts; no users are ever discredited for their post brevity or length amidst the discussion. As a result of this vast tolerance for content on the site, literacy on a linguistic level is very open — most people could engage in discourse quickly on the site without needing to study the language habits of the site.
There is still an expectation that users are familiar with some hip hop-based terminology, even if the terminology is not entirely essential to the overall discourse. A "stan" is an overzealous-to-a-fault fan of an artist, coined after Eminem's famous song "Stan," which chronicles the downfall of an unstable, psychotic fictional Eminem fan; the word "ether" is used often as a verb to convey defeat at the hands of another — a usage that is derived from rapper Nas' song "Ether," a cult favorite diss song that insulted Nas's opposition, Jay-Z, in an extremely public rap feud; many arguments are cut short by one party simply saying "U MAD" in response to angry retaliatory remarks from the opposing party, which is an expression originating from a famous encounter between rapper Cam'Ron and Fox News personality Bill O'Reilly on O'Reilly's show that found O'Reilly flustered during a discussion about vulgarity in hip hop, resulting in Cam'Ron simply pointing at him, laughing, and saying "you mad, you mad!" Overall, despite the purely textual nature of the forum, language barriers are not very high and can easily be crossed with keen observation and contextual awareness.
It ultimately is the people that drive the success of the board. Music as a basis for discussion presents a dynamic, evolving subject that offers a point of engagement for everyone; it is no wonder that the users on the site represent wildly different backgrounds and identities. While the site is open to anyone that has an Internet connection and an email address and is populated primarily by nameless and faceless masses of users interested in engaging in discussion, Okayplayer boasts a fair amount of relative celebrities, recognized both by users of the site and oftentimes average people offline. Noteworthy rappers Lupe Fiasco (FNF UP UP AND AWAY) and Phonte (taygravy), as well as respected producers 9th Wonder (9thWonderMusic) and Nicolay (nicolay), can be spotted on the messageboard sporadically, interacting with users in as common a fashion as anyone else. Their careers as successful artists were jumpstarted by their participation on the board; it has been noted that some of their earliest work made it's rounds online after being posted on this forum. As their careers — take Lupe Fiasco, for example — have ballooned into something larger than the site, their activity has significantly declined, but their ability to polarize the forum is stronger than ever. Upon catching Lupe Fiasco's posts, newer members are notably starstruck: interaction with a legitimate hip hop icon fuels overt positivity towards one of the more famous members of the community. However, an interesting dynamic comes into play when examining interactions between more established members and these celebrity posters. Lupe Fiasco's random appearances on the board are received with deliberate apathy by most older members and even vitriol by a select group of high-profile members, as if to suggest that some members are unimpressed with his rise to stardom and dismiss his work. Engaging a celebrity in any other setting – especially offline – would most often produce a far different result than is observed by the prominent minority of established users on the site.
There is one exception to the hip hop celebrity rule that results in interactions other than wide-eyed fandom or general negativity; Questlove, drummer from The Roots and co-founder of the site, is still active on the messageboard under the username "15." Unlike other big name members, his activity, while notably diminished as a result of his extremely busy offline schedule, is still rather regular. As a result, he is treated as simply another member of the board. Respected more readily than nearly any other user as a result of his status and likability over the years, Questlove has often kept his good reputation consistent mostly by delivering information to discussions that no other member could have. Countless threads on the forum call for his expertise since he has witnessed a large amount of hip hop hisory firsthand, and he contributes with his knowledge with surprising regularrity. But the relationship is not one-sided: The Roots are the live band that plays during Jimmy Fallon's late night program, and Questlove crowdsources the choice of the guests' introduction to the board. Questlove creates a thread for a particular month show tapings and each day will update it with a post featuring just two names, and countless users will chime in with their own suggestions as to what songs the band should play for their introduction, as seen in the accompanying picture.
Not dominant in number but in visibility, the reception celebrity posters are given on the site is largely a product of the celebrity's consistency on the board; when they leave the board behind, the board's dominant long-time members leave them behind. But the fact that they are even members of the site is a testament to Okayplayer's influence, importance, and notoriety in the hip hop community.
While some members of the forum have gained notoriety for their work outside the forum, the dominant members of the site are those that have a made a name for themselves within the fabric of the Okayplayer community. The dominant members of the site are by no means monolithic, however. There is no blanket characterization that can address the typical Okayplayer user, but they all have definite tendencies and unique identities. Meet user imcvspl: a member of the site for over 6-years and boasting almost 30,000 posts, he is easily one of the most visible members on the site. Ever-present in discussion, his prominence and frequent positive contribution has earned him a prioritized relationship with the board. His posts are responded to more frequently and his threads are nearly always successful – a music producer and rapper himself, even threads of his own music are popular. While no one truly knows his offline identity, he is clearly a black male, possibly in his late 20s or early to mid 30s since the basis for much of his hip hop knowledge is first hand experience. However, 20 to 30 year-old black males with a strong foundation in hip hop history and respect from the community are common at the top of the hierarchy: what sets imcvspl apart is that he can be found in almost any discussion of any music. More than just a rap enthusiast, imcvspl is consistently engaged in discussions about new music, old music, indie music, classic soul music, electronic music, pop music – just about anything that anyone posts about.
This fact about imcvspl is one of the interesting anomalies of the site; prominent users usually have niche topics of discussion that they will dominate. In this respect, the site functions almost like a knowledge community. When the discussion turns to 60s and 70s R&B, user tREBLEFREE is the go-to user, but he is rarely found in any other posts. When the discussion turns to the original context and climate in which hip hop classics were released, user Dj Joey Joe offers his historical perspective, but is rarely found in any other types of threads. When the discussion turns to the current Internet-based landscape of hip hop and how music is distributed now, regular user, rapper, and constant self-promoter Duval Spit offers his personal insight, but appears in few other discussions. The common denominator for all users is an interest in hip hop, but a specialization in a topic or genre offers one way for a user to become noticed. For the common user, however, this extensive array of topics and expertise lays the foundation for a complex relationship with literacy on Okayplayer.
In our increasingly digital culture, it is easy to assume that hierarchies are gradually dissolving and literacy requirements are being shed because of the diversity found throughout the Internet. However, with regards to Okayplayer, this could not be further from the truth: hierarchies exist and literacy plays a massive role in shaping the forum — literacy in this case referring to knowledge in topics as opposed to linguistic skill. This is because while we are able to use countless identity markers to consider social position offline, online identities, especially on Okayplayer, are products of one's posts. And when a person's words are the sole characteristics that generate an identity, their competency in the topic being discussed essentially defines who they are and what position their opinion holds. This makes sense to some extent, especially on Okayplayer: the most knowledgeable, experienced members have the most respected positions on the board’s hierarchy. Things get problematic when those at the top recognize those that aren't as familiar with hip hop — who have not been listening to the genre for multiple decades, or have not completely digested the entirety of every "important" rapper's catalog — and instantly discredit them. This expected fluency in all things hip hop is a steep literacy requirement that is sometimes impossible to meet, especially for the younger generation of Okayplayer users.
There is a twist, however. Extensive literacy in hip hop history is expected of the average user hoping to engage in discussion. Logically, the boundaries between the older generation and the younger generation of users should melt away when discussing today’s newest hip hop trends since everyone is experiencing everything in real-time. But that is simply not how it works: the older generation is deliberately ignorant of much of today’s music and generative discussion about new acts is rarely had as a result, despite clear proficiency from many of the lesser known, younger, more currently in-tune members. And it is out of this selective literacy that one can finally identify the board’s hierarchy and social structure.
Okayplayer boasts thousands upon thousands of members, with new members signing up every day for over a decade. With the diversification of hip hop music over the course of the past decade, the typical rap listener is no longer a singularly-defined individual. Race, class, and gender – all markers that used to very strictly define who the typical rap fan was – are almost inconsequential to the actual consumption of rap music today. As a result, the overall membership of Okayplayer is becoming increasingly diverse. But as soon as a member logs into the forum, perceptions are twisted and expectations of who can be found on the site change dramatically. The assumed identity of each person is typically a black male in their 20s, until otherwise noted. This is understandable given the history and target audience of the whole site, and the majority of the users on the site fit the description. But all too often, users are diminished as a result of not fitting the stereotypical Okayplayer user markers. A classic example of identity perception involves the increasing white user population on the site. Earlier in the site’s development, when white users were the extreme minority, the revelation of a user being white often lead to their immediate discrediting during a discussion. While the board has grown more tolerant over time, the stigma of being anything but black on the site remains sarcastically throughout Okayplayer. The most common incarnation of this racial dismissal is seen in threads that have polls; users will create polls to generate a consensus in an album, rapper, verse, or even era comparison. While the choices of these polls are always well thought out and legitimate, there is always an inclusion of the choice “I’m white” in the poll. Playful, this harkens back to the notion that being anything but black automatically discredited your ability to comment on matters of hip hop, as the genre was so intrinsically linked to the black experience in America.
But race is not an issue only dealt with between members; it is an issue that is considered in music discussion as well. There is a relentless urge to revisit history and creadit black artists for their contributions to music, especially at the expense of white artists. A favorite topic of discussion on the site is the comparison of The Beatles, literally the largest and most successful band ever, to anything culturally black — such discussions often result in the majority of users agreeing on The Beatles as overrated in quality and influence but admittedly important, while black artists, such as the many Motown hitmakers, are given a revisionist boost.
This race-based dissection of music applies to more recent material as well; discussions about Eminem and iconic underground rapper El-P can rarely occur without their being white becoming a factor in the argument. In the heavily competitive world of hip hop, comparisons are made all the time, but the frequency with which prominent white rappers come up in comparison, and the extent to which many users go to discredit their importance or build up the importance of another black artist reflects an important cultural mindset that is set on revision and rejection of the perceived norm. Adding to the complexity of race and the importance of its accompanying culture, even black artists are scrutinized for being "whitewashed;" artists like BeyoncĂ© or Drake or Kanye West are criticized — sometimes with convincing support and other times for no apparent reason — for pandering to a white audience for their own benefit. No amount of time spent on the site could allow for a full exploration or understanding of the racial dynamic on the site, but every minute spent browsing the forum turns up even more engrossing, raw racial commentary.
Gender, on the other hand, is a topic rarely approached on the site. There is an extremely small minority of identified females on the site, although there is a possibility that there are more that simply have not identified themselves. In the male-dominated world of rap music, however, the dominance of males on Okayplayer is not surprising. But it is not an oppressive dominance, and females are not actively discouraged from joining: simply put, females sign up for the site far less frequently than males do.
It is absolutely an interesting place. Okayplayer lies at the crossroads of hip hop purism and elitism and the democratization of hip hop by way of the Internet. Anyone can be a rapper today, and success in the rap world is only a mention on a rap blog away – but log into Okayplayer, and you are warped into a space where it is still 1998, the golden age of hip hop is still a fresh memory rather than a distant notion, and everyone knows everything about hip hop. Just don't say you're white.
ISHAQ'S CYBERCULTURE BLOG
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
What Osama's Death Means On the Ground
Osama Bin Laden is dead. The news is inescapable, the symbolism is mountainous, the rejoicing is incredibly exuberant, the reality is surreal, the timing is phenomenal, the implications are endless. But more than anything ever before, this historic, timeless event has revealed an aspect of our culture that calls for as much reflection as the past 10 years of the War on Terror and the upheaval in the Middle East.
Watching the 24 hour cable news media will reveal inordinate amounts of detailed information from experts and laymen about the future of US foreign policy in the Middle East, the dissolving relationship between the US and Pakistan, the specifics of the dangerous and wildly successful Navy Seal operation in Abbottabad, the political impact of Bin Laden's death on President Obama's national standing and likelihood of reelection, the importance of this event in the face of sweeping changes throughout governments and social structures in the Middle East, the heightened threat levels for Americans at home and abroad in the face of potential Al-Qaeda retaliation, the inkling of closure brought to those affected by the terrorist attacks spearheaded by Bin Laden, and countless more undeniably important, interesting, and stimulating developing stories. But lost in the media whirlwind is the ground level discourse.
The stratification of discourse has been dissolving in recent years, first as a result of user-generated content gaining credibility and ubiquity in the face of the traditional news media, then as a result of the directness of social networking sites that have resulted in news becoming synchronous discourse on Facebook and Twitter. This fact is proven most effectively by Sohaib Athar, who inadvertently live-tweeted the attack on Bin Laden's Abbottabad compound — his tweets are a part of the fabric of the developing news story that everyone experienced. Back in the US, as thousands gathered in front of the White House and Ohio State University students jumped onto Mirror Lake in celebration of the confirmation of Bin Laden's death, hundreds upon hundreds of photos were posted on Twitter of the congregations; looking through comments of some of these photographs, you will find diligent ABC staff members posting contact information in hopes of using a given photo for a national news story. Social media is a part of the upper level of the discourse following the significant news event.
But while social media has infiltrated the 24 hour news and opinion conglomerates, social media has also sharply defined ground level discourse. Within hours of reports of Bin Laden's death, still images, animations, comics, edited photographs and countless other bits of media bounced around from person to person by way of tweeting, retweeting, Facebook posting, Facebook reposting, liking, commenting, and much more. While media organizations culled together their greatest pundits and speculators following the Obama statement regarding Bin Laden's death in order to offer historical perspective and conjecture, the average technologically-adept American was cracking jokes, celebrating America, and changing their Facebook status. Before social media dominated our culture, the ground level discourse took place in isolated pockets, mostly in face to face discussion. In 2011, the ground level of discourse, below the punditry and speculation on cable news networks, is on Twitter, just a hashtag away.
Scanning the #Osama or #obl Twitter search results is intriguing; the emotional outpour is tremendous and the excitement is staggeringly palpable. But it isn't long until we find out what exactly the impact of this event is on the most basic level of discourse. A shocking glimpse of what the discourse can become is cataloged neatly in the Twitter timeline of user @HEEMS; Himanshu Suri, one half of Brooklyn-based rap group Das Racist, took to Twitter the day following Bin Laden's death and started retweeting some of the irrationally exuberant tweets attached to the #Osama hashtag. Tweaking his search from #Osama to "sand nigger" turned celebratory tweets into vile, ignorant catastrophes of racial sensitivity and reason. He goes on to retweet posts that include the words "dune coon" or "towel head" — the results are startling, and best experienced for oneself.
Below the excessive assessment of the impact Bin Laden's death will have on our nation that is being delivered by many cable news organizations and even political and current event blogs, reality is rearing its ugly head. Nowhere on the news will we find stories of the incomprehensible xenophobia that is accompanying the news of Bin Laden's death. The impact of this historic event on Middle Eastern or Muslim perception and race relations isn't an issue. Most distressing is that the racism that is bubbling up from the American base is not confined to fringe groups with destructive ideologies and distorted messages; the racism is coming from people whose lives have been defined by 9/11 attacks, but have been informed by a society and culture that has so routinely villainized and dehumanized a particular group of individuals. The fact that racism still exists is not groundbreaking by any means, but its prominence is alarming. Racism has been something we only notice subtly in the cloth of society, woven in by achievement trends, advertisements, pop culture and the occasional abrasive, ignorant citizen, rarely emerging overtly in our mainstream culture but always an unfortunate part of our nation. The racism that followed Bin Laden's death was unfiltered, available, and terrifyingly sincere. Rummaging through the insensitivity, it becomes clear that this racism is not being perpetuated by any particular subset of the public, but by a frighteningly diverse array of people with a frightening outlook and a platform to speak their mind.
Our society allows for the perpetuation of this racism. Hearing CNN's John King situate the death of Bin Laden within the Middle Eastern and North African turmoil is important. But so is reading a thousand people celebrate the death of THE TERRIBLE TOWELHEAD. Information aggregation has been converging for years as social media users have entered the business of telling the news, but the conversations that go on at the news media level and the ground level are destructively different. Ten years of Middle Easterners burning the US flag, ten years of AK47-wielding young bearded men, ten years of terrifying reports of hate-peaching madrasas: this is what we see on the news at the ground level, and this is where the racism is developed. What's the point of news and social media convergence if the conversations so clearly divert? Zero mentions of this basic ignorance, insensitivity and racism: this is why, ten years from now, racism will still be an accepted part of the American experience.
Watching the 24 hour cable news media will reveal inordinate amounts of detailed information from experts and laymen about the future of US foreign policy in the Middle East, the dissolving relationship between the US and Pakistan, the specifics of the dangerous and wildly successful Navy Seal operation in Abbottabad, the political impact of Bin Laden's death on President Obama's national standing and likelihood of reelection, the importance of this event in the face of sweeping changes throughout governments and social structures in the Middle East, the heightened threat levels for Americans at home and abroad in the face of potential Al-Qaeda retaliation, the inkling of closure brought to those affected by the terrorist attacks spearheaded by Bin Laden, and countless more undeniably important, interesting, and stimulating developing stories. But lost in the media whirlwind is the ground level discourse.
The stratification of discourse has been dissolving in recent years, first as a result of user-generated content gaining credibility and ubiquity in the face of the traditional news media, then as a result of the directness of social networking sites that have resulted in news becoming synchronous discourse on Facebook and Twitter. This fact is proven most effectively by Sohaib Athar, who inadvertently live-tweeted the attack on Bin Laden's Abbottabad compound — his tweets are a part of the fabric of the developing news story that everyone experienced. Back in the US, as thousands gathered in front of the White House and Ohio State University students jumped onto Mirror Lake in celebration of the confirmation of Bin Laden's death, hundreds upon hundreds of photos were posted on Twitter of the congregations; looking through comments of some of these photographs, you will find diligent ABC staff members posting contact information in hopes of using a given photo for a national news story. Social media is a part of the upper level of the discourse following the significant news event.
But while social media has infiltrated the 24 hour news and opinion conglomerates, social media has also sharply defined ground level discourse. Within hours of reports of Bin Laden's death, still images, animations, comics, edited photographs and countless other bits of media bounced around from person to person by way of tweeting, retweeting, Facebook posting, Facebook reposting, liking, commenting, and much more. While media organizations culled together their greatest pundits and speculators following the Obama statement regarding Bin Laden's death in order to offer historical perspective and conjecture, the average technologically-adept American was cracking jokes, celebrating America, and changing their Facebook status. Before social media dominated our culture, the ground level discourse took place in isolated pockets, mostly in face to face discussion. In 2011, the ground level of discourse, below the punditry and speculation on cable news networks, is on Twitter, just a hashtag away.
Scanning the #Osama or #obl Twitter search results is intriguing; the emotional outpour is tremendous and the excitement is staggeringly palpable. But it isn't long until we find out what exactly the impact of this event is on the most basic level of discourse. A shocking glimpse of what the discourse can become is cataloged neatly in the Twitter timeline of user @HEEMS; Himanshu Suri, one half of Brooklyn-based rap group Das Racist, took to Twitter the day following Bin Laden's death and started retweeting some of the irrationally exuberant tweets attached to the #Osama hashtag. Tweaking his search from #Osama to "sand nigger" turned celebratory tweets into vile, ignorant catastrophes of racial sensitivity and reason. He goes on to retweet posts that include the words "dune coon" or "towel head" — the results are startling, and best experienced for oneself.
Below the excessive assessment of the impact Bin Laden's death will have on our nation that is being delivered by many cable news organizations and even political and current event blogs, reality is rearing its ugly head. Nowhere on the news will we find stories of the incomprehensible xenophobia that is accompanying the news of Bin Laden's death. The impact of this historic event on Middle Eastern or Muslim perception and race relations isn't an issue. Most distressing is that the racism that is bubbling up from the American base is not confined to fringe groups with destructive ideologies and distorted messages; the racism is coming from people whose lives have been defined by 9/11 attacks, but have been informed by a society and culture that has so routinely villainized and dehumanized a particular group of individuals. The fact that racism still exists is not groundbreaking by any means, but its prominence is alarming. Racism has been something we only notice subtly in the cloth of society, woven in by achievement trends, advertisements, pop culture and the occasional abrasive, ignorant citizen, rarely emerging overtly in our mainstream culture but always an unfortunate part of our nation. The racism that followed Bin Laden's death was unfiltered, available, and terrifyingly sincere. Rummaging through the insensitivity, it becomes clear that this racism is not being perpetuated by any particular subset of the public, but by a frighteningly diverse array of people with a frightening outlook and a platform to speak their mind.
Our society allows for the perpetuation of this racism. Hearing CNN's John King situate the death of Bin Laden within the Middle Eastern and North African turmoil is important. But so is reading a thousand people celebrate the death of THE TERRIBLE TOWELHEAD. Information aggregation has been converging for years as social media users have entered the business of telling the news, but the conversations that go on at the news media level and the ground level are destructively different. Ten years of Middle Easterners burning the US flag, ten years of AK47-wielding young bearded men, ten years of terrifying reports of hate-peaching madrasas: this is what we see on the news at the ground level, and this is where the racism is developed. What's the point of news and social media convergence if the conversations so clearly divert? Zero mentions of this basic ignorance, insensitivity and racism: this is why, ten years from now, racism will still be an accepted part of the American experience.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
S/R 1 Revision
Henry Jenkins' Convergence Culture offers a look into our rapidly shifting social experience at the hands of technology. Jenkins is very distinct about his definition of convergence; dismissed is the concept of the oft-talked about "Black Box," a convergence of our popular gadgets and appliances into one general tool that serves as our television, computer, entertainment systems, communication devices, among countless other things. Instead, Jenkins ushers in a look at the "cultural shift as consumers are encouraged to seek out new information and make connections among dispersed media content" (3). What Jenkins argues is that we are in the midst of a dramatic change in our cultural landscape. In order to emphasize his observations, Jenkins offers several case studies. A foray into the world of Survivor spoiling offers a glimpse into knowledge communities, and the power of collective intelligence that occurs when people – especially in an online environment – "harness their individual expertise toward shared goals and objectives" (26) including discovery and exposition. The other side of this startlingly hyperinvolved set of consumers is the large entertainment and media groups who deliberately set out to create media that encourage active engagement and participation from its consumers. Jenkins focuses extensively on the top-down model of corporate entities engaging consumers and the simultaneous bottom-up grassroots engagement bred by communal interest in order to paint a picture of convergence in our cultural and entertainment sphere. One case study that effectively defines and describes much of what Jenkins means by convergence culture is that of The Matrix and its transmedia-based franchise. Diving into the world that the Wachowski brothers manufactured, Jenkins reveals a vast network of "interconnections between the various Matrix texts" (116) that all work together to deliver a larger narrative than can be consumed in any one medium. This example, as well as the example of Harry Potter, or Star Wars, synthesizes Jenkins' observation about the direction our culture is taking, citing a push from the top to extend the impact a specific franchise might have on consumers, as well as a decided effort by consumers to take in as much information on as many platforms as possible – or necessary – to satisfy complex consumption habits. The culmination of Jenkins' examination of culture occurs when Jenkins delivers an overview of the political landscape and the role convergence culture will have on its development in the future. Citing most notably the Internet rise of Howard Dean and his television-based downfall in 2004, Jenkins almost prophetically details the possibilities for our increasingly digital culture to raise participation and foster a more active, aware, and apt body of citizens with the power to one day take control of the political process the way it has of its entertainment as new and old media converge.
Of all the implications Jenkins generates with his examination of convergence culture, the implications of literacy are most important. Jenkins delivers a mode of literacy that is multifaceted; literacy is no longer limited to the ability to read, but limited only by the content developers' imaginations and their expectations of the consumer. When a few corporations dominated television broadcasting, the model was simple: executives delivered content and consumers watched — minimal literacy was required. But now, not only are we expected to engage products on a fundamentally deeper level, we are engaging them on levels that may be unfamiliar to us. American Idol expects us to not only listen to singers, but to judge them critically — an often-undeveloped literacy. Survivor generated robust knowledge communities, soliciting a far deeper engagement to a franchise than most are used to. Films like Star Wars, The Matrix, and the Harry Potter series ask consumers to not only watch a movie, but to read a book, play a game, engage with others online, and dissect alternate incarnations of characters in different media, all often at the same time. This heightened expectation of consumers complicates basic literacy. Literacy often determines the ability of an individual or group to engage in a particular discourse: without the expected competency in a particular arena, one cannot be expected to engage productively. This is especially important when we take into consideration the ideas expressed in Jenkins' afterword. He muses on the potential for our political engagement, suggesting a participatory political culture not unlike the one we see with our entertainment. For those who can develop the necessary components of participatory culture's literacy, this is an extremely positive, hopeful notion that will guarantee increased engagement. But for those who have been left behind already in what Jenkins calls the participation gap, civic engagement could become even more difficult, further alienating them from public discourse. Participatory culture is as of yet trivial, overrunning popular culture, but not the fundamental basis of society. If we are going to move towards a predominantly participatory society altogether as Jenkins suggests, we need to be sure that it does not come at the expense of others' engagement.
Of all the implications Jenkins generates with his examination of convergence culture, the implications of literacy are most important. Jenkins delivers a mode of literacy that is multifaceted; literacy is no longer limited to the ability to read, but limited only by the content developers' imaginations and their expectations of the consumer. When a few corporations dominated television broadcasting, the model was simple: executives delivered content and consumers watched — minimal literacy was required. But now, not only are we expected to engage products on a fundamentally deeper level, we are engaging them on levels that may be unfamiliar to us. American Idol expects us to not only listen to singers, but to judge them critically — an often-undeveloped literacy. Survivor generated robust knowledge communities, soliciting a far deeper engagement to a franchise than most are used to. Films like Star Wars, The Matrix, and the Harry Potter series ask consumers to not only watch a movie, but to read a book, play a game, engage with others online, and dissect alternate incarnations of characters in different media, all often at the same time. This heightened expectation of consumers complicates basic literacy. Literacy often determines the ability of an individual or group to engage in a particular discourse: without the expected competency in a particular arena, one cannot be expected to engage productively. This is especially important when we take into consideration the ideas expressed in Jenkins' afterword. He muses on the potential for our political engagement, suggesting a participatory political culture not unlike the one we see with our entertainment. For those who can develop the necessary components of participatory culture's literacy, this is an extremely positive, hopeful notion that will guarantee increased engagement. But for those who have been left behind already in what Jenkins calls the participation gap, civic engagement could become even more difficult, further alienating them from public discourse. Participatory culture is as of yet trivial, overrunning popular culture, but not the fundamental basis of society. If we are going to move towards a predominantly participatory society altogether as Jenkins suggests, we need to be sure that it does not come at the expense of others' engagement.
Selective Literacy
We've all seen the power of literacy, especially its ability to leave particular illiterate groups disenfranchised. Too often the difference between a respected, influential group in society and a systematically underrepresented one is, among other things, a significant gap in literacy. In our increasingly digital culture, it's easy to assume that identity markers have begun to melt away and hierarchy has disappeared, as literacy requirements presumably have been shed as well. However, with regard to my online community, this couldn't be farther from the truth.
I reported previously on the clear hierarchy that exists on this site; rich as discussion routinely is, the elitism of the board's upper tier makes its way into too many arguments, often to everyone's detriment. But on what basis is this hierarchy generated? Naturally, as we see in our offline society, there are countless factors that determine status and placement. But, also evident in our offline culture, literacy can be a significant factor in placement, even more so than offline. This is because where we are able to use countless identity markers to consider social position offline, online identities, especially on my board, are products of one's posts. And when a person's words are the specified characteristic that generates a given identity for along while, their competency in the topic being discussed essentially defines who they are and what position their opinion holds.
This doesn't seem entirely unfair, though. Why shouldn't someone with a great wealth of musical knowledge be given a premier voice in a community that discusses music (particularly rap music)? The problem lies in the fact that those that aren't as familiar with the genre — who haven't been listening for multiple decades, or have completely digested the entirety of every "important" rapper's catalog — are constantly discredited. There's no room for revision; you are either completely familiar with a song or album in its original context from its original release, or you have no say (and you're white).
Well fine then. So the elder statesmen of the forum are on top when it comes to what essentially entails historical discussion. We can assume the conversation is equalized when the conversation comes to newer artists since everyone has equal access to information, right? Well, no, we can't. The second problem is that people who have a fluency in artists of today contrast heavily with those on top of the hierarchy because those on top of the hierarchy are deliberately ignorant when it comes to today's developments. Part of being on top of the discussion board is being unfamiliar with or disapproving of newer artists. Some of it is because they sometimes reject the conventions of the genre that they are so familiar with from decades of engagement. But most of it is just a product of being ignorant; no generative discussion is had about newer artists because the tastemakers of the board don't care enough to have an opinion. Even worse, if you are more familiar with today's artists than you are with those of years past, your literacy is considered inadequate and your opinion is largely invalid.
Literacy — but not proficiency —determines where you stand in the Okayplayer hierarchy. Selective literacy is given the greatest status overall, which is destructive because it breeds contempt with gathering new knowledge and building new opinions. Have you seen an example of elitism getting on the way of discussion in your experiences?
I reported previously on the clear hierarchy that exists on this site; rich as discussion routinely is, the elitism of the board's upper tier makes its way into too many arguments, often to everyone's detriment. But on what basis is this hierarchy generated? Naturally, as we see in our offline society, there are countless factors that determine status and placement. But, also evident in our offline culture, literacy can be a significant factor in placement, even more so than offline. This is because where we are able to use countless identity markers to consider social position offline, online identities, especially on my board, are products of one's posts. And when a person's words are the specified characteristic that generates a given identity for along while, their competency in the topic being discussed essentially defines who they are and what position their opinion holds.
This doesn't seem entirely unfair, though. Why shouldn't someone with a great wealth of musical knowledge be given a premier voice in a community that discusses music (particularly rap music)? The problem lies in the fact that those that aren't as familiar with the genre — who haven't been listening for multiple decades, or have completely digested the entirety of every "important" rapper's catalog — are constantly discredited. There's no room for revision; you are either completely familiar with a song or album in its original context from its original release, or you have no say (and you're white).
Well fine then. So the elder statesmen of the forum are on top when it comes to what essentially entails historical discussion. We can assume the conversation is equalized when the conversation comes to newer artists since everyone has equal access to information, right? Well, no, we can't. The second problem is that people who have a fluency in artists of today contrast heavily with those on top of the hierarchy because those on top of the hierarchy are deliberately ignorant when it comes to today's developments. Part of being on top of the discussion board is being unfamiliar with or disapproving of newer artists. Some of it is because they sometimes reject the conventions of the genre that they are so familiar with from decades of engagement. But most of it is just a product of being ignorant; no generative discussion is had about newer artists because the tastemakers of the board don't care enough to have an opinion. Even worse, if you are more familiar with today's artists than you are with those of years past, your literacy is considered inadequate and your opinion is largely invalid.
Literacy — but not proficiency —determines where you stand in the Okayplayer hierarchy. Selective literacy is given the greatest status overall, which is destructive because it breeds contempt with gathering new knowledge and building new opinions. Have you seen an example of elitism getting on the way of discussion in your experiences?
Sunday, April 17, 2011
A Crowd of Experts
One of the interesting questions in debating the value of crowdsourcing is whether the concept can be imported across disciplines. The most successful incarnation of crowdsourcing has undoubtedly been in the world of the news media, especially online. With the implementation of the iReport in CNN's endless repertoire of excessively tech-y news delivery systems, the crowd has been legitimized by an established media organization – a legitimization long forthcoming since the popularity of newsblogs, often run by "ordinary citizens," overtook the popularity of newspaper subscription. But what happens when we try to port crowdsourcing outside of the news arena and into some other common disciplines?
Different disciplines require a unique amount of proficiency and training in order to be competent while partaking in its activities; while it takes a significant level of skill to craft a well-written presentation of information, the actual gathering of information and observing of events requires very little occupational education. On the other hand, it requires several years of rigorous schooling and practicing in order to approach a level of competence in the field of medicine – no ordinary person can simply hop into a surgery room or behind an X-ray machine and deliver acceptable results. This is also the case in engineering – but not necessarily in graphic design. This variation is key to the question of whether crowdsourcing can be ported into a new discipline: when we need greater expertise, the ability to crowdsource significantly decreases. And in the case of education, where we count on teachers to offer an authoritative voice of reason, discussion, excellence, maturity, and understanding, perhaps crowdsourcing falls flat. But what if we change the parameters of the "crowd"?
An experimental surgery hits a dead end. The chief surgeon is called in, but has no ideas that might bring about progress. What if this situation was crowdsourced? Dozens, or even hundreds, of surgeons all weighing in on the situation through a live video feed of the procedure would generate ideas far more quickly than the lone surgery team of this particular hospital. Similarly, if a crucial engineering decision needed to be made regarding the integrity of a particular structure in a critical situation, what would be better than allowing several creative engineering minds to come together to make the decision? When the crowd is made up of experts in that particular field, progress can be made. And perhaps we can turn to this idea in academia.
Grading in school is ultimately subjective: no two classes are graded on the same basis, with the same standards, requiring the same level of mastery. Even math classes – where we expect one right answer – can be nuanced, as processes are sometimes given as much or more importance than the end result. Many of us have even approached a level of comfort with a class where we can write an A or a B paper for that teacher. What if grading was crowdsourced to other teachers with a familiarity of the subject? Of course there would be logistical stipulations – what teacher has time to deal with projects from other classes when they have their hands full with stuff of their own? – but let's say these have been taken care of. Would things be better? Fairer? As rhetoricians, we're programmed to write for our audience. If we wrote to a collection of extremely experienced yet unique writing scholars rather than the individual teacher we've spent several weeks picking apart, wouldn't we create stronger work?
Crowdsourcing won't be a passing craze – it'll work its way into our lives more effectively every day. The question is how it integrates into different disciplines, and perhaps crowdsourcing to experts presents the answer to the question.
Different disciplines require a unique amount of proficiency and training in order to be competent while partaking in its activities; while it takes a significant level of skill to craft a well-written presentation of information, the actual gathering of information and observing of events requires very little occupational education. On the other hand, it requires several years of rigorous schooling and practicing in order to approach a level of competence in the field of medicine – no ordinary person can simply hop into a surgery room or behind an X-ray machine and deliver acceptable results. This is also the case in engineering – but not necessarily in graphic design. This variation is key to the question of whether crowdsourcing can be ported into a new discipline: when we need greater expertise, the ability to crowdsource significantly decreases. And in the case of education, where we count on teachers to offer an authoritative voice of reason, discussion, excellence, maturity, and understanding, perhaps crowdsourcing falls flat. But what if we change the parameters of the "crowd"?
An experimental surgery hits a dead end. The chief surgeon is called in, but has no ideas that might bring about progress. What if this situation was crowdsourced? Dozens, or even hundreds, of surgeons all weighing in on the situation through a live video feed of the procedure would generate ideas far more quickly than the lone surgery team of this particular hospital. Similarly, if a crucial engineering decision needed to be made regarding the integrity of a particular structure in a critical situation, what would be better than allowing several creative engineering minds to come together to make the decision? When the crowd is made up of experts in that particular field, progress can be made. And perhaps we can turn to this idea in academia.
Grading in school is ultimately subjective: no two classes are graded on the same basis, with the same standards, requiring the same level of mastery. Even math classes – where we expect one right answer – can be nuanced, as processes are sometimes given as much or more importance than the end result. Many of us have even approached a level of comfort with a class where we can write an A or a B paper for that teacher. What if grading was crowdsourced to other teachers with a familiarity of the subject? Of course there would be logistical stipulations – what teacher has time to deal with projects from other classes when they have their hands full with stuff of their own? – but let's say these have been taken care of. Would things be better? Fairer? As rhetoricians, we're programmed to write for our audience. If we wrote to a collection of extremely experienced yet unique writing scholars rather than the individual teacher we've spent several weeks picking apart, wouldn't we create stronger work?
Crowdsourcing won't be a passing craze – it'll work its way into our lives more effectively every day. The question is how it integrates into different disciplines, and perhaps crowdsourcing to experts presents the answer to the question.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Okayplayer Elitism
Hierarchies manifest themselves in everything we do. The classroom, the workplace, the home, the online messageboard – everything has its own hierarchy. My online community, while notably rich in knowledge and thorough in discussion, is conspicuously elitist. The topics discussed on this discussion board have a short but deeply detailed history, and a solid grasp on this history is of absolute importance to hip-hop purists. In most discussions, having a wide and deep bed of knowledge is a clear advantage, which earns respect from fellow members immediately. However, the dependency on being an "elder statesman" has resulted in a seemingly intentional disconnect in some discussions.
In discussing newer acts and their legitimacy, influence, importance, or even general worth, while most of the forum is able to complete discussion with few hitches, the community of older members who began listening to hip-hop music in the early 90s – by far the minority, despite their vocality – often enter the discussion simply to state their unfamiliarity: some acts simply can't matter as much because they either haven't floated into their realm of music consumption, or because they don't have the makings of what is considered a "classic" artist. A conservative approach to anything, while it disagrees with my personal taste, is by all means respectable. There is absolutely no reason why many of these members should be forced to change their tastes to remain in accordance with the general hype. The problem of this elitist, or purist, attitude is that it can sometimes dominate the discussion. These elitists sit atop the hierarchy on one of the Internet's most dominant, active, influential, populous hip-hop forums; they can serve as tastemakers for many. With this distinction, many hard-working, respectable artists are denied fair due because they are cast aside. Across the Internet and around the country, a new rap collective can be making waves, playing shows, releasing albums, and gaining notoriety on the basis of their own merits and not as a result of a major label promotional kick – but such a rap collective is treated with pure condescension and nonchalance by these high-ranking okayplayer. members.
The hierarchy is well established, and almost impossible to penetrate (the ability to move up in this hierarchy is a topic on its own), and as a result, it's highly influential. The implications of the hierarchy are often positive: if you want to find out the hip-hop climate at a particular moment in the genre – when The Notorious B.I.G. first became popular, when Dr. Dre owned the genre, when Jay-Z stepped up from being a minor player to a rap mogul – these purists and historians are invaluable. But if you want to marvel at how far Kanye West has come in just half a decade, or the importance of rap blogs in reaching a new rap audience, or how well put-together an up-and-coming artist's mixtape is, their presence can be suffocating.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The Gun That Bleeds
One of my favorite aspects of eXistenZ was the underlying theme of the most dangerous technologies actually being organic, non-metal machines. There are countless examples of this but my favorite is the gun. The church is extremely secure, and one couldn't dream of bringing a conventional weapon into the event – to bypass this, the agent that attacks Allegra assembles a gun made of bone that shoots bullets made of teeth. In this case, the organic proves to be more dangerous than the metal, a theme that is interesting in its reversal from much of what we've seen in previous works we've read in class. In Neuromancer, neither meat nor metal is any more or less dangerous or harmful than its opposite; the convergence of the two was the focus. This was also the case in Convergence Culture: we need to retain our humanity, but embrace and take advantage of the convergence of our digital culture and offline society. In both of these works, though, the organic element is the natural, ordered, and benign, with the encroachment of technology presenting the potential for negativity. In eXistenZ, the reality is that the organic is the most dangerous agent, and this provides us with an array of implications.
What does this mean? It could mean so many things, but I'd like to zero in on one of these meanings. It seems as though Cronenberg is suggesting that we are the greatest dangers to ourselves. What we create, what we dream, what we put into action – the experiences that we design can provide the most effective obstacles to our own livelihood. Allegra experiences a physical manifestation of this notion in the church, but this is true all around us. With every thing we invent, we invent a corresponding disaster: with the ship we create the shipwreck; with electricity we create the power outage. Cronenberg delivers this notion in a complete and direct way – the gun is made of organic, living material, and the game pods are living creatures with umbilical cords. He presents them as things not man-made, but coexisting with man, the ultimate level of convergence. Even when taken out of context and placed on a metaphorical platform, though, the ideas remain powerful, and we are able to apply them to things in our society that aren't meat based. We are often afraid of the metal taking over the meat – but the metal is just an extension of ourselves. We are the meat; we created the metal; we are the metal.
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