Just last year, while researching a book on America's digital illiteracy, I met with the Air Force General then in charge of America's cybercommand. He said he had plenty of new recruits ready and able to operate drones or other virtual fighting machines - but no one capable of programming them, or even interested in learning how. He wasn't even getting recruits who were ready to begin basic programming classes. Meanwhile, he explained to me, colleges in Russia, China, and even Iran were churning out an order of magnitude more programmers than universities in the US. It is only a matter of time, he said - a generation at most - until our military loses its digital superiority.more...
One of my favorite musicians and artists, Archer Prewitt, best known for the comic Sof'Boy and band Sea and Cake has just finished the latest figurine in his series for PressPop, the Allen Ginsberg doll - authorized by Ginsberg Estate. Complete with glasses, book, and beaded necklace, he should make a fine addition to anyone's collection of beat poet dolls.
The doll comes with a CD of some of Ginsberg's previously unreleased live poetry readings, including Manhattan Mayday Midnight and On William Burroughs' Work.
This one, for Arthurmag, explains why - for my own current book, anyway - independent publishing may be a much better path than going through the traditional corporate route. Unlike Seth Godin, I'm not in a position to say "I've decided not to publish any more books in the traditional way. 12 for 12 and I'm done." There are reasons to go the long route, including getting an advance, getting distribution, and getting the weight of an imprint when soliciting reviews and coverage. But being able to make such definitive statements is part of what makes Seth Godin, Seth Godin.
For me, it had a whole lot to do with my impatience waiting for a book to move through the traditional, 1 1/2-year release cycle, as well as wanting to sell a book for less money. It seemed to me that if people are willing to click somewhere other than Amazon or BN for a book, then we'd be able use the web in something much closer to a p2p fashion.
There's even some good news in the failure of so much of traditional publishing: the discarded talent is still here to help us write better books, and is developing some new models for getting them out:
Meanwhile, the better editors and publicists--the ones who understand their jobs differently than the corporate publishing model now dictates--are the first to be let go when budgets are cut. Working with an author on a book takes valuable time away from the acquisition of more titles. Working a whole afternoon to get a young novelist on NPR for an hour means a lot less to the executives and their balance sheets than getting a defamed movie star two minutes with Katie Couric.
Luckily for writers, however, the editors, marketers, and publicists booted from the corporate publishing industry are starting up little companies of their own. The corporate book industry can't grow at the rate required by publicly held companies, anyway. This is why it is failing. Publishing is a sustainable business, not a growth industry. So it needs to be run by people looking for sustainable projects and careers--not runaway profits.
And speaking of alternative currencies, Bernard Lietaer -- the man who introduced a great many of us to the inequities inherent to a monopoly currency system and the great possibilities for complementary alternatives - has finally launched a comprehensive website about his work. Above, the TEDX Berlin talk, currently on his front page.
This is a great one-stop shop for a total mind-shift on how money works and how it could.
So far, I've had the pleasure of reading galleys for the first two, Jonathan Lethem's deconstruction of John Carpenter's They Live, and Chris Sorrentino's homage to Death Wish. These are fun little books - little, meaning a hundred or so pages and in a tiny fits-in-your-back-pocket format suitable for reading anywhere at anytime. And they justify all the nights spent watching reruns of these films, never sure if we were allowed to like them as much as we do - even after we see through to their obvious faults. This book series considers such films "deliberate" B-movies.
I read Lethem's time-coded analysis of They Live on an airplane while I watched the film on my phone, for the perfect DIY mini-Criterion experience. Lethem is one of my favorite writers anyway, but experiencing him wax on about Nada and the ghouls was perhaps the highlight of my summer reading. Here he is on Shephard Fairey's original OBEY campaign, which began as a reaction to the "obey" signs revealed beneath ordinary advertisements when characters in the film wore "Hoffman glasses":
Fairey's interventions occupy the same uneasy middle ground as They Live itself: on the one hand, the termite arts of graffiti or of the deliberate B-Movie, marginal activities carrying a subversive potential past the sentries of high art. On the other, the gallery-ready postures of text-artists like Barbara Kruger and Jenny Holzer, or of the Cahiers table of "conscious" auteurs - Hitchcock being the supreme example - at which Carpenter may occasionally be granted a shakey seat. Too poisted and context-aware to be claimed as primitives, too crass and populist to be comfortably claimed for the high-art pantheon, Fairey and Carpenter both oscillate dismayingly in the void between.
Or, a bit later...
Kruger and Holzer's non-sequitor interventions briefly attained a gallant purity, but they'd always needed the gallery or museum context as a quarantine against recontamination. Their work degenerated anyway, refamiliarizing into po-mo moral rhetoric or reappropriated for fashion layouts. What makes Shepard Fairey's populist gesture insipid is is how self-evidently it awaited a product retrofit, a proceed-to-checkout button. When the OBEY t-shirt or CHANGE political campaign rolled out, no one, least of all the 'artworks' themselves, even hiccuped.
While mix tapes may no longer involve chromium dioxide passing over magnetic heads, there are still many heads who appreciate the music streams of others, and find them particularly useful when engaged in plant shamanics.
To this end, mixtape enthusiast and Arthur editor Jay Babcock has teamed up with recording engineer Bobby Tamkin to bring us Blackout, a fundraiser mix for the magazine with a "pay what thou wilt" link.
1. MOON DUO "Into the Trees" (from the Escape LP on Woodsist)
2. WHITE HILLS "Three Quarters" (from the White Hills LP on Thrill Jockey)
3. WHITE NOISE SOUND "Sunset" (from the White Noise Sound LP on Alive Naturalsound)
4. LORDS OF FALCONRY "Osiron" (from Lords of Falconry on Holy Mountain)
5. ENDLESS BOOGIE "Pack Your Bags" (from the Full House Head LP on No Quarter)
6. MASTERS OF REALITY "Johnny's Dream" (from the Pine/Cross'd Over LP)
7. MESSAGES "Tambura" (from the After Before LP on De Stijl)
8. ENUMCLAW "Harmonic Convergence" (from the Opening of the Dawn LP)
All available for preview at Arthurmag.
I've been researching alternative currency systems for the past decade or so, ever since I became convinced that a 21st Century economy simply can't be run on a 13th Century printing-press-era operating system. As most of us know, the centralized currency we use today is a legacy of the early Renaissance, when kings, threatened by the rise of a merchant middle class, made all peer-to-peer and local currencies illegal. Debt-based currencies helped monarchs centralize their power and the worth of their treasuries. And these currency systems worked particularly well as colonial empires expanded via their chartered corporations.
Nowadays, however, most of us have more value we wish to transact than there is cash out there to do it. (I personally blame the derivatives markets, which now are more predictive than derivative - their bets being placed before the so-called "real" markets have a chance to operate.) But whatever the cause, there are plenty of real people willing to work and exchange value; there's just not enough money available to do it.
I've been looking hard at many of the systems out there, from exchanges like LETS and TimeDollars to reputational currencies like Whuffie. The main obstacle - usually unacknowledged, but mostly just ignored - is the tax. And I think that's what sets Superfluid apart from the rest. They've got two sides - a "community" portal for people to do favors for one another in the way a LETS system might allow. And they've also got a commerce portal through which people can begin to sell merchandise or commercial services.
What makes Superfluid interesting for the Boing Boing community, I believe, is that its philosophy and methodology - as described in the video above - is so consonant with that of the programming community. It makes sense to me that a technology based in shared computing resources would be great for administrating the sharing of programming skills. And it also seems to me that the programming community is the more likely birthplace for a robust and legal p2p currency than the kinds of communities that have attempted to scale up their currencies in the past.
See what you think. I'll try to get the founders of Superfluid here to engage in the comments if people are interested.
This just got released at Maker Faire NYC on Sunday: a starter kit for making your own wearable computing, from a new company called Fabrick.it. The kit is broken down into modules or "bricks" for everything from light-up LED's to rechargeable batteries, all linked together with attractive sewable, washable, and solderable conductive silver ribbon.
Perhaps more valuable than the components themselves will be the instructions and tutorials for putting things together, and the community that should develop around DIY wearable technologies.
In all honesty, the book brings me back to the core values that have been espoused here on Boing Boing since the beginning: these technologies are the most fun and the most useful if we have some idea of how they work, and if their workings remain accessible to us. Knowledge of the codes - both digital and otherwise - is the best way to begin changing them. Meanwhile, an awareness of some of the more dehumanizing biases of some of these tools and spaces helps us keep our digital communities productive, collaborative, and happily mutant.
For me, this was the core insight of using these technologies in the first place. As a kid raised on television, I was inspired by how computers allowed me to get behind the screen and change what was in there - even share what I did with others. It seemed to me that once people experienced the mutability of online spaces and systems, they'd begin to see the mutability of real world spaces and systems, too.
But over the years, as interfaces get thicker, devices get locked down, and the real programs and agendas behind the tools we use get more obtuse, I'm finding people quite willing to treat technologies as given circumstances. The cyberpunk insight I tried to share with others in religion, government, and economics seems somewhat scarce right here in cyberspace. I talk to kids - the ones I once extolled as "screenagers" - now accepting programs like Facebook at face value: they think Facebook exists primarily to help them make friends, and accept the system's embedded values as if Facebook had no agenda of its own. This is a perception I think communities like this one help to change, and I'm honored to be among you as a reader, commenter and, now, poster.
My posts over these two weeks will be likely be biased toward my own current fascination with people and organizations who are changing the rules and inviting others to do the same. But I will of course be on the lookout for anything of value to share with you for your appraisal and discussion.
(Portrait by Leland Purvis)
BabyCastles, the videoarcade in Ridgewood, Queens, is quickly turning into a hub for intersection of the art, technology, and culture of independent gaming. It's a place where you can sample the latest in indie videogames, like the Hungarian physics Sumotori Dreams above, or experience fully curated exhibitions - all in an atmosphere more like a hacker's coffee bar than a museum or a commercial arcade. Everybody is on the inside.
Founded by two graduates of NYU's Interactive Telecommunications Program, Syed Saluhuddin and Kunal Gupta, BabyCastle is basically just a wall of the music venue Silent Barn right now, featuring six video arcade cabinets with rotating content. But the extended BabyCastles collective is growing - and has launched a Kickstarter campaign for a pop-up video game, art, and music venue on 42nd Street in Manhattan, along with partnering organization Showpaper.org. Their purpose, in addition to having fun, is to change common perception of the art and culture of video games.
Yes, there is life after Gamestop.