Thursday, February 24, 2011

Midterm

Part One:

Can computers think?  It seems a pertinent question to ask while playing Guru Meditation on the iPad.  The iPad, in this particular case, acts as a mediator between the player and the App; it seems to safe to say that some people may believe that the Guru Meditation App forces the iPad to "think," but this is not the case.  A slight jerk of the hand, and the little green bar--so tantalizing to the player because it is infinitely unattainable--disappears completely.  The App thus believes that the player has lost his concentration.  But this is cannot be further from the truth.  

Searle, in his article "Can Computers Think?", argues that in order for a computer--a machine--to think, it must have the knowledge as to why something occurs.  He uses the example of computer programmers creating a program in which the computer simulates understanding Chinese symbols; the computer is able to answer questions with Chinese symbols because it searches through its databases for a relevant and "appropriate" answer.  However, the computer does not "think," it simply rattles off the information that has been programmed for it.  Searle describes the computer as having "syntax, but not semantics" (671).  In short, the computer can respond with Chinese symbols because that is what it has been programmed to do, but it cannot formulate a conversation or comprehend what it has said--in a way, the Chinese symbols experiment demonstrates that while a computer can perform to exceedingly high standards, it is not able to explain the *why*.

As such, the same can be said for the Guru Meditation App.  The App does not "think," but only performs.  It acts solely on the motions of the player's hands.  Perhaps the player has managed to wipe his brain of any and all thoughts--which, according the App's Inspiration page, that is what the App is intended for--but perhaps he has naturally shaky hands?  Guru Meditation would promptly end the player's attempt and make him start over again.  Much like the computer with the Chinese symbols, Guru Meditation only understands the programming, but does not take into account the why's or how's or any of the other issues that may play a hand in the game.

The Guru Meditation App also functions as a reproduction of the reality of meditating.  In Benjamin's "The Work of Art," he explains that art is always being reproduced throughout the centuries.  Although Benjamin speaks of films and statues or the like in his article, meditating is simply a different form of art, one which applies to his argument.  The process of reproduction takes away from the original and loses its uniqueness.  That is not to say that the reproduction, of say, the statue of Venus, is not as appealing, but there is something to say about the original--to use Benjamin's vocabulary, the original is "natural."  As such, Guru Meditation is a reproduction of actually meditating; it is a simulation (a program) that creates the illusion of peace because in reality, the player is much more focused with not moving his hands than losing focus completely.  

Part Two:

The Kindle App, and the e-books that can be then bought from Amazon, is a form of the third order of Baudrillard's simulacra.  The third order of the simulacra, in short, is the hyperreal, it is the "simulacra of simulation, founded on information, the model, the cybernetic game--total operationality, hyperreality, and total control" (1).  Perhaps it may help to back up a little: if Kindle (or, let us be more specific, the e-book) is the third simulacra then that means that the printed book must then be of the second order--the model, the imitation of the "natural" (the first order).  

But what is the "natural?"  Baudrillard describes the "natural" to be, in a way, God, or at least a person's imitation of it.  In this particular case, we can perhaps substitute "Author" for "God."  The second order, the printed book, seeks to make a Utopia of the Author (unless we are speaking of Barthes, who claims that we should separate authorship from reading completely).  It is the "real" model, meaning that one can find a book in a bookstore or a grocery mart.  It has been mass-produced and is therefore a reproduction.  However, the third simulacra takes the simulation a step further, a simulacra of a simulacra, if you will.  For a simpler example, let us look at the infamous bagel vs. mini-bagel scenario.  The bagel has been mass-produced, it has become the "ideal" in both shape and form (i.e the printed book has become the ideal because it is what a person recognizes); however, the mini-bagel is not a replication of the standard bagel, but rather a hyperreal version of it, a new version.  The same can be said for the e-book.  

The e-book is intangible; it exists solely in an alternate plane.  The App displays the e-book to appear as the printed book might--it simulates turning pages and text against the back screen, but it is not a printed book.  This can be seen in the simplest of manners: locations rather than page numbers, changes in font, the mere fact that a reader can purchase a book and have it in his library in under ten seconds.  Moreover, the concept of the "library" is also changed, formatted to appear as a real bookcase might (if all the books faced forward, that is).  The Kindle's library is a simulation, an imitation, of a real library; and Amazon's Kindle Store is also a simulation, an imitation, a simulacra, of Barnes&Noble or Borders or any other bookstore.  The e-book (and the Kindle App as a result) is the mini-bagel: it is passed forward as a simulation of the printed book (the standard bagel), when in fact, it should instead be viewed entirely as its own entity.

In addition, the e-book can also be viewed as the third order of the simulacra in a different light.  Baudrillard explains that science fiction (the third order) has altered and changed over the years because the discovery of  Earth has already been completed--in fiction then, one must push past that and create other worlds to show a way of "otherworldliness."  The same can be said for the Kindle App, and also, the e-book.  Since the sixteenth-century, the printed book has been tweaked and altered and praised; for 600 years, it has been the way in which people read.  However, Baudrillard would claim that the progression to the e-book and online reading has been done in much the same way that science fiction has moved to alternate universes.  We have used (and perhaps abused) the printed book, the model of the "natural," and we have now moved onto the hyperreal, or, the third simulacra.  As such, the Kindle App and its subsequent parts (the e-book) is a simulacra of the printed book/bookstore, the production.

1 comment:

  1. Your reading of Searle in your first essay is astute and well taken. However, we want to push you a bit on your perhaps all too quick conclusion. You assert, "The App does not 'think,' but only performs"—but on what grounds can you distinguish "thinking" from "performing thought," really? By all accounts, your description of the app *does* suggest an interactivity, a receptivity—if a simple one. Furthermore, since it is a *meditation* app, and the goal is, as you nicely put it, for the user to "to wipe his brain of any and all thoughts"—then in this case wouldn't it seem that the app itself could be seen to mirror this low-state mode of 'thinking'? The app is, as it were, a brain wiped of thought.

    We would like to see you adopt the position of the thinking computer, because the "hows and whys" of thought seem all too assumed and yet abstract in your essay. Can you really be so certain that humans 'know' why and how they think, at any given moment? Really? At every single moment? If not, then it would seem that you might have fallen into your own (and as you hail him, Searle's) trap. Instead, perhaps it would be interesting (if nothing else) to imagine the iPad as a thinking machine, via the iPad. If only for the 'post-human' aspect of this class, we would like to see you explore this pathway...

    Now concerning your reading of Benjamin: In fact, even if the act of meditation is aided by the app, can we really say that it is a "reproduction" of a natural thing? After all, if a meditative state is truly achieved (which by all accounts it *could be*, right?), then there is nothing non-authentic about it, is there? Meditation is meditation is meditation.

    It would have helped here very much to have incorporated an actual quotation from Benjamin—then, we might have been able to wrestle with 'the work of art' as Benjamin delineates it. As it is, we are left wondering if the 'work of art' in question here is the app (as an aesthetic display), or the actual act of meditating—in which case it seems like a stretch to call this a work of art in a Benjaminian sense of the term.

    In this first essay we would have also liked to have seen your actual reflections on playing the game, really using Guru Meditation, rather than heading straight for a critical point.

    ***

    In your second essay we want to pause for a second on your quick parenthetical reading of Barthes, "who claims that we should separate authorship from reading completely"—not quite. Barthes doesn't think we *should* do this, but rather that texts do it automatically, by existing as nexuses of language, quotations, & "tissues" of culture. His point isn't that we should 'kill' authors but that by the nature of any text the author is 'dead' whether we like to admit it or not. The point is just that when I write, like right now, on this blog, my so-called "intentions" are meager and ephemeral compared to the tenacious and pervasive rules of language, habits of thought, and cultural forms that guide my every keystroke. I'm writing this, but it would be foolish of me to think of myself as the Author of this comment in any monolithic way. Does that make sense?

    That quibble aside, we really like your reading of the Kindle app and appreciate how you move through Baudrillard's third order of the simulacra in describing the work of the e-book store. Very nicely done.

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