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Monday, March 21, 2011

AR

We live in a society in which ever-changing technologies are almost necessary, for people get bored with the current ones in the blink of an eye.  Some of the aspects of augmented reality are kind of cool, but others just seem to encourage laziness on the part of the consumer.
For instance, it would be nice to point your phone at a building to see what shops or restaurants are held within, for such an act is only slightly quicker than searching your location on Google then finding nearby venues.  The same goes for real estate.  What an idea to find a building in which you want to live, and instantly know if that dream is even possible, without having to look through the classifieds or Apartment Finder magazine or contacting a realtor.
On the other hand, how difficult is it really to go to the post office and find the box that fits your package before shipping?  Not difficult at all.  Besides, you have to physically go to the post office anyway, so why bother spending the time downloading the app, situating your package in front of a camera, and waiting for it to process the image and its dimensions before spitting back the size of the box (no matter how "instantaneous" the creators say the app is)?
Creepy was exactly the word I thought of about half-way through this piece.  That, and "big brother."  One "might learn just where in a foreign ministry building a potential source's office is."  No matter how simple it is to locate someone's address or whereabouts on the internet, it does not need to be made easier by creating an app that will access just that information with minimal effort, especially in such an increasingly volatile world.  This merely seems to me to be a way of making journalists' jobs easier.  But the digging and getting your hands dirty has always been a part of the job.  So that when you uncover something really juicy, you can break the story and get both the recognition and personal satisfaction from the hard work.
I suppose overall, some of the stuff seems neat and useful, but most of it seems novelty and unnecessary.  While it won't necessarily narrow people's experiences, it will change them in a way that does not seem for the better.

Neuromancer part II

One prevalent theme in the story of Neuromancer is Gibson's playing with the idea of humanity.  He has some very interesting commentary on what it means to be human.  More often than not, though, he raises more questions than he answers.  One example is Case.  From the outside, he looks like a normal human, but once we learn more about his character, we find out that he has been greatly influenced by technology.  Both the mycotoxins that originally damaged him and the surgery to reverse the damage are technological alterations.  And it only gets more robotic, mechanical, and computerized from there.  For instance, Molly has the blade implants under her fingernails; even Ratz has a prosthetic arm.
From there, the idea of "human" becomes more skewed and blurry.  For instance, Dixie's ideas, knowledge, and memory are preserved in a ROM.  But he is unable to feel, create new memories, or gain any knowledge.  He is only able to organize and reorganize what he already knows.  Is he human?  His body is dead, but the memory of him carries on.  Further, he begs Case to destroy his ROM so he can, essentially, stop being trapped in a memory.  Therefore, he is able to feel.  It seems as though that is a truly human emotion, even if he is only a computerized shadow of himself.
Another human-bending concept is the idea of Wintermute and Neuromancer.  Both RAMs (random access memory), the two entities can create new ideas and memories themselves with the vast database they to which they have access.  This is very similar to the act of human thinking, though they do not have human bodies.
Further, the idea that Dixie and Case "flat-lined" (meaning their hearts stopped and they were dead) and then came back to life shows that humanity can come in different forms.  While Dixie is dead but preserved in a ROM (does that mean he's really dead?), Case is very much alive through the end of the story.  Is he less alive because he has once died?

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

S/R 2: William Gibson's Neuromancer

In Neuromancer, Gibson shows us the world of the matrix and how the advancing of technology is a dangerous game.  The main character, Case, is a former computer hacker, a cyberspace cowboy, who angered the wrong people and had his nervous system damaged by mycotoxins.  He is now unable to “jack in,” the term for logging into the matrix (37).  He resorts to making deals on the black market.  Meeting Molly, however, changes that.  She tells Case that her boss (Armitage) wants to fix his nervous system in order for him to complete a job within the matrix.  Though neither knows what his job will be.  Armitage, former Colonel Corto, informs Case that sacs of mycotoxins have been put in his body and will be removed upon timely completion of his tasks.  First, Case and Molly must steal the ROM (read-only memory) of his former mentor, Dixie Flatline.  Flatline is tired of being preserved in non-expanding memory and asks to be erased as soon as possible.  After traveling from Japan to the United States (the Sprawl), the team enters Istanbul to recruit a “certified psychopath name of Peter Riviera,” a drug addict who can create hallucinations with the use of implants in his brain (51).  We find out that Wintermute “is only a part of another, a, shall we say, potential entity,” that is, Neuromancer (120).  It was Wintermute who convinced Armitage of his alternate personality.  Riviera turns on Case and Molly in the matrix, trying to kill Case, but is run off by the bodyguard of 3Jane, the owner of the technology that is Wintermute and Neuromancer.  Something is built into Wintermute, “the compulsion that had driven the thing… to unite with" Neuromancer (269).  3Jane gives up the password to unite the two, creating a greater, stronger, smarter entity.  After having the mycotoxin bags removed from his bloodstream, Case destroys Flatline’s ROM (per his request).  Case talks to Neuromancer, who has found another AI like himself in another solar system with whom he can communicate.  Case finds a new home, new work, and a new girlfriend but never forgets his adventure or Neuromancer.
William Gibson spends much of the novel playing with the idea of humanity.  He forces us to look at the characters and ask ourselves what makes someone or something human.  There are countless examples of how answering such a conundrum is nearly impossible.  For instance, is Case truly human, inside or outside of the matrix?  Inside the matrix, he is mentally experiencing things, but he is physically in a lab or private room hooked up to trodes and a computer.  Outside the matrix, he, as well as Molly, Riviera, and even Ratz, have as a part of their anatomy some sort of technological advancement.  Does this fact mean that they are robots rather than humans?  Then, we are introduced to the concept of Dixie Flatline, whose memory is preserved in a ROM.  He is incapable of forming new thoughts or memories; he must rely on the information he had when he died in order to communicate with other characters.  Is he really dead? Is he still human?  He has the ability to request to be destroyed, to be able to move on, into the afterlife, seemingly.  That is a very human characteristic, to will, to desire.  The concept of the cloning that the Tessier-Ashpools have achieved also questions what it means to be human.  3Jane can think, feel, act; but she is the third clone of Marie-France.  She does not have a mother who bore her, but she has genes, thoughts, and a company to run.  Lastly, Gibson questions the humanity of such people as Wintermute and Neuromancer.  These personalities are not derivatives of actual humans, nor do they have tangible human bodies.  Case must be continually reminded that these personalities are “its” not “hes.”  This exemplifies Gibson’s opinion about what it means to be human.  In this world of technology a distinct line must be drawn between Molly and Case, actual humans, and the projection or memory of humans (such as Wintermute and Dixie).