Monday, April 25, 2011

All work and no play

A luxurious, colossal hotel on a scenic wintry, snowy mountain from a Thomas Kinkade painting. A large industrial kitchen customized for gourmet chefs out of Bon Appetit magazine. A lush garden maze from Better Homes and Gardens. And the space and solidarity to enjoy, savor and revel in this all for yourself, without those obnoxious tourists congesting every inch of your personal space.

This all sounds very picturesque, but it may also sound like a movie many of you have seen or a book you might have read by a familiar author, Steven King, called “The Shining.”

Jack Torrance takes a position as a winter caretaker of the Overlook Hotel, a very elaborate yet haunted hotel. Initially, the setup sounds ideal: Jack will spend the winter at the hotel when it’s closed for business to maintain its facilities, while he works alone in peace and silence on his next novel. However, the isolation from humanity ultimately culminates in cabin fever, and he tries to kill his family.

I don’t know exactly why this story came to my mind after reading “Cognitive Surplus.” But I do think there is some importance in connecting it to “The Shining.”

Obviously there are many other factors contributing to Jack Torrance’s downfall -- creepy ghosts, his alleged alcoholism and the hotel’s haunted condition -- but there is something about working and living completely alone with barely any human interaction that I find very important to explore in an era when you can reach, connect and talk to people without ever having to speak to them or see them in person.

Clay Shirky's sequel book, “Cognitive Surplus,” starts where his debut, “Here Comes Everybody,” ends. Shirky demonstrates how the Internet’s disposition for open participation has opened doors for group activity, allowing us to be much more creative than in the past.

Shirky provides us with an explanation about group projects -- ICanHazCheezburger and Wikipedia -- and their success: people like sharing and working with each other. And there is a construction and foundation on the Internet that promotes and facilitates this kind of communal sharing and exchange among people. By exploring the Internet and these new outlets, we can all create social change and improvements that employ hundreds, thousands and even millions of people either to help with a cause or to just simply entertain each other. Social media offers equivalent opportunities for all people to consume, produce and share.

Even though the ICanHazCheezburger campaign isn’t a very important or valuable example of Internet sharing, it still leads to some participation and interaction among people. And some participation might lead to other projects that are more noteworthy and relevant to more people. The important part to remember is that the Internet allows more people to come together and collaborate who ordinarily would not or could not have participated in the past. And by amassing more people, more can be done.

By being able to freely and openly consume, produce and share with others, we become much more innovative and confident in what we are producing and sharing. Rather than writing the same creepy, unoriginal line over and over again on our typewriters (“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”), we can talk, correspond and bounce ideas off of other people and employ other people to help us live up to our potential.

Groups and working together are important. Isolation doesn’t get you very far, especially in this era of social media innovation when millions of people are connected. You cannot lock yourself in a room by yourself and expect to complete an extensive project in solitude, much like Jack in “The Shining.” Yes, you do need time alone to think, muse or ponder over your own ideas, but you need to talk to others about it to maximize your potential.

Severe isolation like that in “The Shining” only squashes creativity, productivity, inspiration and imagination.

Maybe if Jack Torrance had a wireless laptop, “The Shining” would have had a very different, more productive and more amiable ending.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Frank and the Olive Tree

My father, Frank, was born and raised in a small Sicilian town on his family’s farm from the 1950s to the 1970s. He often reminisces fondly about milking his goats, sleeping under the stars, and using the farm’s produce to cook and sustain life. His memories are pleasant, often inducing a smile or laughs from everyone listening in on his stories. Everyone knew everyone, and everyone trusted each other. It was more than just a community; it was a family that embraced customs and traditions that were passed down for centuries -- a family that named all of its children only after close ancestors.

But, even though his tales of a community so loving and tightly linked evoke warm family sentiments, my dad still chose life here in a progressive, industrial country over his simple, tradition-based upbringing in Italy.

My dad, to me, represents the struggle presented in Friedman’s “The Lexus and the Olive Tree.” Half of the world, according to Friedman, was determined to modernize and advance in the global market, while the other half was still cemented to the past. The Lexus epitomizes growth, advancement and progress, and the Olive Tree symbolizes “everything that roots us, anchors us, identifies us and locates us in this world,” (167).

When my father retrospects and recalls his past, his internal conflict is so noticeable. It’s obvious that he loves the life he has created here, living in a fully air-conditioned house, driving a convertible, smoking expensive cigars, and spending summers on the beach. Sure, he revels in his hard work and rewards himself once in awhile. But, each and every Christmas, he still tells us about his own childhood traditions (which included a witch on a broomstick giving kids candy … kind of strange, I know).

He’s clearly still holding onto his customs and roots, reminding us about where we come from and who our ancestors are. His stories are so deeply embedded in tradition. Every ceremony, celebration or even daily family dinners were implanted in traditional songs, prayers and foods. And these cultural practices bonded everyone in the town. Everyone understood and cared about each other. And my father never wants us to forget that.

Yes, Friedman talks about globalization and its benefits and disadvantages, and I agree with his main points. Globalization has increased the standard of living and given everyone the opportunity to participate. Globalization, this new system in practice today, replacing the old Cold War system after the 1980s, has taken over. It is, simply put, the combination of finances, technology, and information spread across the globe, creating a single, unified worldwide market and community.

And in order to take part and personally engage and benefit from it, you need to understand it.

What I think is most important about globalization is the understanding, appreciation and perceptions we can gain and access about the world. Globalization allows us to become more connected to the world, but what good is this connection when we have no fundamental understanding for those we’re talking, reporting or reading about? How can we communicate with or about another country if we’re unappreciative toward its people and customs?

Friedman asserts that "if you can't see the world, and you can't see the interactions that are shaping the world, you surely cannot strategize about the world,” (232).

It’s apparent that Friedman is encouraging and promoting a balance between the Lexus (advancement, progress) and the Olive Tree (tradition, rituals) in order to maximize this new global system.

While I initially thought that my father was conflicted and even torn between his past and present, I now realize that he may just be the perfect balance.

My dad and his stories instilled in us an understanding of another world, so different than our own here. Behind every story, my dad just wanted us to remember our culture and history, but he also still wanted, and wants, us to seek every opportunity we can and progress and accomplish what he couldn’t. My dad wanted us to grow up with an admiration for people, family and community.

And because of that, I am thankful that my father has been both the Lexus and the Olive Tree because he has opened my eyes to the world.

Monday, April 4, 2011

The limitless Internet

In my Propaganda, Media and American Politics class this semester, we have been dissecting and analyzing media sources from U.S. publications to international reporting. A good portion of the class is learning about the media portrayal of the wars in Vietnam and Afghanistan, both domestically and internationally. From what we’ve discussed in my Propaganda class, there seems to be a consensus that most U.S. mainstream media sources tend to exclude opposition or confronting opinions about the systemic problems within our government. Yes, people criticize George Bush and Barack Obama openly and frequently. But it’s hard to find mainstream reports that really delve into the core issues, questioning why a particular president decided to wage war against a country with “weapons of mass destruction” when there really was no evidence of them existing, ever.

Well, there are a number of reasons for media bias and the exclusion of systemic dissent. Noam Chomsky discusses some of these contributing factors in his book “Manufacturing Consent”:
* The mainstream media sources are typically owned by few, large major corporations, which leads to similar coverage.
* Advertising, which is a big source of income for the media, forces media sources to appease their advertisers by not producing extreme or radical news.
* The sources mainstream journalists employ are typically the same corporate or government experts who give the same, “manufactured” responses.

So how can the average, ordinary person express his/her resistance to the government and its decision to wage war when he/she is confronted with high-profile government officials, huge corporations or advertisers? The 1960s proved that many ordinary people could come together and assert their opposition to the Vietnam War in the form of street protests and demonstrations. We recently watched a documentary about student protests against the Vietnam War called “Berkeley in the Sixties.”

The documentary followed the stories of student activists at the University of California, Berkeley standing outside army recruitment offices; sitting on train tracks (in front of moving trains, risking their lives); and protesting on the streets, flipping over cars and destroying fences. A student protester wore a construction hat during protests, he said, to prevent a “bashed head” from police officers who were trying to end the protests.

But, what really stuck with me, after viewing the documentary, was how ineffective all of these protests were. When students gathered outside recruitment centers, imploring potential soldiers to reconsider their decision to go to war, not one soldier budged. The protesters didn’t deter a single soldier.

I could not believe how unsuccessful these protesters were. They were willing to be struck by a fast-moving train, endure police beatings and face nasty remarks from the community. Yet, with all their hard work and determination, they still seemed unheard.

One big hindrance holding these protesters back was that the media tended to focus on the aggression, numbers and appearance of the protesters, not their message, so that they could sell more papers or lure more viewers on TV. The media, as we learned in my Propaganda class, really didn’t care about the protesters’ messages; it was all about documenting their appearance and militancy. That’s what increased readership and ratings.

So what can we do to overcome these boundaries and get our messages across and become more active participants in politics? Well, Markos Moulitsas Zuniga provides some insight into how an everyday, normal person can engage in the political scene in his book “Taking on the System.”

Zuniga argues that in order to achieve change or progress in this technologically developing generation, activists and protesters will have to circumvent these obstacles presented by mass media by employing new emerging sources of communication: online blogs and video-hosting sites like YouTube.

“We live in a world where there is no reason anyone should whine or complain that they are being shut out of the system. The tools are available to mount credible challenges to even the most entrenched of powers. Such efforts will always lack resources, and will mostly face well-funded, deeply entrenched foes, but innovative tactics and smart use of money can carry the day,” (240).

An example of ordinary people successfully using the tools available to them and participating in politics via the Internet is the Obama campaign’s online fundraising. According to the New York Times, Obama raised $36 million in January 2008, $4 million more than had originally been predicted. The story also said the campaign “brought in $28 million online, with 90 percent of those transactions coming from people who donated $100 or less.”

Through this online campaign, the average person was able to partake in the presidential election against “well-funded, deeply entrenched foes.” He/she didn’t need millions, thousands or even hundreds of dollars to participate either. They were able to support Obama by making small donations, thanks to the Internet and the tools it provides to everyone everywhere.

The Internet opens more doors for people to engage and participate in causes they might otherwise have been hesitant to join, like the violent street protests featured in “Berkeley.” By welcoming more people to participate, the Internet allows people to voice their dissent more directly to the public (through blogs, websites and YouTube videos) without having the mainstream media pick and choose what will sell more papers. In a blog, no one can distort, filter or disregard your own message.

And, the streets can only hold so many people. The Internet is limitless.