Random learning, things that stick (day 94)

Some random things I learned today:

• you can become addicted to your own stress hormones
  
• stay away from chiggers (they'll make you sick and dissolve your flesh so they can eat it).
• Corelam is a very good sound absorbing material (amongst other things) and it was invented by one of Emily Carr's Industrial Design faculty, Christian Blyt.
• CMHC allowed an exhibit of small houses ('Homes for Less') designed to help homelessness but drew the line when one of them became inhabited.
• The repetitive nature of the commute (or the running track) can be exploited for narrative design.

A song for this post.

Mood dips in step with temperature (day 34)

I've noticed that the stock market gyrations need a story.  You can't just say "the stock market dipped by 300 points today".  You have to say "the stock market dipped dramatically following investor doubts about...".   I have read many of these headlines.   Over time an image has formed in my head, helped by the many trading room stock photos.  I picture chemicals (economic indicators) being piped in and landing on the crowds of traders in uneven but clustered patterns.  They there is general barking and howling that spreads to local neighbourhoods.  A frenzy of anxious trading takes place, and when the chemicals subside, exhausted stunned traders reckon with the result.   To put a story on this behaviour is interesting but most surely wrong because the traders are barking out of habit and neighbourly influence as much as reason.   The headlines are like a running commentary on a cock fight.   They create mini-dramas out of very immediate facts.  Some of these mini-dramas will actually fit the facts longer than others and you'll feel good about the narrative arc.  It's good to feel like you might know the next thing that happens, or to feel like a tragedy is in the making.  The anticipation is good.  Good like dessert.

The problem is that eventually drama exhaustion sets in.  There is only one cure for drama: deep engagement.  But how does one actually get beyond the fine grained noise to the deeper currents in financial systems?  It's not clear to me that anyone is even relatively sure of the deeper narrative taking place.  And maybe there is none.  It's quite possible that we've created a machine so mesmerizingly complex and with such high stakes that we're stuck in a fearful narcissistic moment.  This may be one reason to see the movie "cloudy with a chance of meatballs".

There is not real conclusion to this post.  The compulsion to stay at the surface of things because it's more immediately interesting is a trap that eventually robs us of insight.  It's related to discernment in the choice of information we take in.  It's also one of the topics we are researching with the Breath I/O project.  The frenzied consumption of the new eventually leads to shallow breathing and anxiety.  What kind of media consumption leads to a deeper breathing?

A song for this post.

Time, space and apple pie (day 4)

I just put an apple pie in the oven. It takes time to make an apple pie. It's full of suspense too. It involves no digital resources....oh...except for the recipe from America's Test Kitchen...and...the digital readout on the oven. There is something to do with your body and mind for about 2 full hours. Not bad. And then there's the moment where you get to sit down with the laptop to wait out the baking in a kitchen full of that nice cinnamon apple smell. Precious time.

Today someone asked me some questions about mobility and the hyperlocal trends. It happens that I'd like to create a mobile hyperlocal narrative application with Vancouver in mind. The question had to do with spacetime and implied that somehow the web has done something to our sense of time and space. It has taken away time by asynchronous communication, and taken away space by allowing us to connect from far away. I think I know what she was getting at. The feeling of other world when you're in it, and the feeling of the world happening without you when you're not reading, watching, keeping up. There is definitely another space with its own speed and insistence. It changes the expectation of what we know about each other when we do meet in the same physical space.

But I think the spacetime perception change may have more to do with the speed at which we need to switch contexts when we plug in. Check email, open a document, keep it open in the bg, quick check of RSS feeds, who's posting on fb, back to email, oh ya the document, scan the document, phone rings, another email comes in, and so on. It's a stream and somehow lots of little things get done. But no big things. I know what it feels like to focus and when I'm actively online, that is not what's happening. And while I'm in it, I'm not taking care of my physical environment in the same way. Maybe my plants don't get watered, maybe my computer gets unpacked months before my books do.

Part of the promise of hyperlocal is another dimension to sort the info. Maybe if I only get relevant information to where I am, it'll be meaningful and manageable. Again the issue of scale pops up though, there are millions of people in Vancouver. Why would the space not be cluttered. Just as cluttered as Robson street on a sunny Saturday afternoon. After all, the online is the mother of pack rats.

Making an apple pie is risky business. You have to go offline for 2 hours. And during that time much could happen without you being aware of it. More than before? Before we knew? Don't know. Don't think so. Not making an apple pie is risky business. You may forget the feel of a good pie crust and the smell of a baking pie. I'm not kidding. These things need to be maintained.