McCloud's cartoony representation was (for lack of a better
word) brilliant. Seeing the icon displayed in its many facets was intriguing. I
specifically liked his representation of objects becoming a part of ourselves. “The
vehicle becomes an extension of our body. It absorbs our sense of identity. We
become the car” (McCloud 38). The idea of an object melding into our body seems
like a strange science fiction movie; however, the more I see cell phones
plastered to people’s foreheads and hands, the more I begin to understand what
McCloud is saying. Interesting enough, my hand connection with the laptop also
forms this symbiotic relationship. My hands make a physical connection with the
computer, but I also have to make a personal connection with the machine. In
many ways this computer will absorb my identity; it can form a digital identity
of myself; it can be customized to iconically represent the identity I have
with myself; it can also display my dialogue identity—this writing
specifically. First, however, the computer and I must congeal into one.
This begins almost immediately when you access your computer. If this machine is newly
purchased, you will first enter your computer
name, your log-on name, and your password. Although these features
have a practical use, such as anti-theft, their main function might be the initial
connection to engage the user and the machine into their symbiotic
relationship. The relationship using this digital handshake can be accomplished
on a foreign machine with the same results. For example, when we enter our
classroom and sit at one of the classroom computers it is not ours (we do not own it), but once we log-on using our student network
identification the computer becomes us;
we own it. We can mark the save my password box on the internet and download
pictures to your computers with some kind of privacy. However, the feel at a public computer seems a little
different. If you check the box to remember your login and password and leave
the computer someone can access your private domain. Any picture you save to
the computer can be dissected by anyone. I personally feel a disconnect towards
public computers. Could it be that the symbiotic handshake wasn’t initiated? Or,
even worse, that someone else did it and we are trespassing into their domain?
To properly apply our computer identity we have to be in a comfortable place—our own domain.
The computer is an integral connection to developing a
digital identity. A cell phone can accomplish this identity, but the computer
is more intricately intertwined in the process. Specifically I would like to
point out such entities as Facebook and Twitter. These sites further draw my
identity connection with a computer. My life can be displayed in the past,
present, and (a possible) future linear timeline; It also allows me to view
other people’s lives in the same manner. The intimate connection with my life
and others is only attained through a machine to display it. Thus I make the
machine part of myself (giving it purpose/identity) and it displays my digital
identity (and others identities) for me—completing the symbiotic circle.
Dude, forgive me for hyper-reading you post, but our time is finite as you know. One thing you're touching on is pretty well-developed theory by Katherine Hayles in her book How We Became Posthuman. Fucking bizarre shit, all about symbiosis between man and machine.
ReplyDeleteThis is a test. This is only a test.
DeleteI find your post very interesting; a new way of looking at computers has suddenly occurred to me.
ReplyDeleteThe degree to which people customize personal computers with themes, desktops and screensavers; choices in programs, software, and games; and collections of documents, music, and images (to list a mere few of the things a computer usually contains) could imbue any random stranger who stumbled upon any given computer with quite a bit of personal knowledge about the life and habits of its user. Computers therefore seem to be not only tangible things, but also personalized places which the user enters. They are complete with experiences and activities unique to these intangible locations.
But I’ve heard the mind often referred to —colloquially— as a “place,” although it is unarguably part of the individual, and the same could go for computers.
This tangent...is a little out there, I know. But it's interesting to analyze a process which I've assimilated so completely into my life that I don't even stop to think about what my mind is really doing when I use a computer.
I completely agree with you on McCloud's idea about the "Car" being an extension of yourself, and think that translates very well into what you explained about computers, and especially about cellphones - but how far the phone-being-an-extension-of-yourself goes scares me. I stumbled across a taping of a concert on a news channel the other day, and as the camera panned from the performer on stage to the people in the crowd, I was, for lack of a better word, kind of devastated to see almost half the crowd holding up their iPhones to record the experience. What kills me about that is that I feel our generation doesn't necessarily always live "in the moment" in the way that phrase always used to mean. We seem so obsessed with capturing things on video and with pictures so constantly that I wonder how much of the world we actually see through our eyes instead of through the screen of some technological device.
ReplyDeleteHm... I think this is an interesting perspective that you could definitely explore further, and it brings up points that I have not thought of before, but I don't know if I necessarily agree. A couple of years ago, I spilled a can of beer all over my laptop and toasted it. At the time, I had no money to pay for it, so I went a year without having any computer at all. For school I would borrow friends' laptops, use the school computers, and do whatever was needed to get by. I felt the same connection to those computers as I did to my own when I was finally able to acquire one. I am almost thankful for the experience because it showed me that my computer was nothing more than a tool. The only comfort I received from gaining a new computer was having all of my documents in one place instead of spread across a variety of computers. My computer isn't an extension of me anymore than a pen is an extension of me. It is merely a tool to allow me to create my written identity.
ReplyDeleteI do like your ideas about identity, though. It is interesting that we have so many identities today with our different social networking sites, email, work docs, etc. I know I interact much differently on Facebook than I do in real life. The computer acts as a sort of buffer where I feel safer speaking my mind than I do in person. It also records everything I have to say for all of eternity, so if I make an embarrassing late-night drunken comment on an old friend from high school's photo, it is there for all to see permanently. Embarrassing.
I think that the computer is a great tool that has the dangerous potential of becoming a crutch. I know that I find myself depending on my computer and my phone way too much and it scares me a little.
I think the relationship between people and their computers can be very personal like you describe. However, I think that such an analysis can go further. It is possible to project ourselves onto almost any inanimate object that we become intimately familiar with. I know that I grow attached to many objects which are not quickly disposable. I identify everything from my apartment to the pencil I have been using for classes for the past few semesters as part of me.
ReplyDeleteI think McCloud helps explain this phenomenon in simpler and more sweeping terms. He simply writes that "we see ourselves in everything" (33). McCloud does not even limit his ideas concerning projection to objects with which the viewer is familiar. If McCloud is correct, this may be why personification is such a popular stylistic device. I am me, and I like to view the world in a way that applies to me. It is possible that this translates into a propensity to see myself in the objects around me and particularly those that I see and interact with regularly.
I realize that the idea of projection of the self onto the world around me sounds a bit egocentric. However, I think of it more as a device to help make meaning of the world. Does anyone else experience a similar sensation of projection in their lives?