As part of the imposing, sacrosanct Basilica of San Francis in Assisi there is an understanding that even in their moment of greatest penitence and prayer, the pilgrims must still empty their bladder. So, the good people of Assisi have constructed a large public restroom adjacent to the church. When you descend the stairs, pass the gypsies asking for money and pay your obligatory 50 euro cents to enter, you see an amazing sight. Something never seen before in the history of the mankind. Above the urinals, cut into the granite massive is a large picture window, open to world with a 180 degree view of the Umbrian hillside, resplendent in a rural patchwork.. It is such a startling sight, that for a moment, you hesitate mid stream imagining in horror that you are accidentally relieving yourself in front of a Botticelli in the Uffizi. But, then you relax, realize you’re not going to fall off the hillside and enjoy the first picturesque pee of your lifetime. In fact you’re happy that for once your oversized prostate allows time to linger. Eventually though you’re finished and instead of leaving, you just stand there, mesmorized and contented. When you feel the eyes of the guy waiting behind for your spot, you finally quit but instead of turning around you are walk backwards looking out the huge glass window and when you leave to tip the Gypsy and realize by her scowl, that you forgot to zip up. You ascend the stairs, saunter back to the Basilica and start viewing the Giotto frescoes, all the while wanting to run out and drink two espressos and a bottle of water, just so you can descend those stairs again soon.
The Italians have been stereotyped in many ways: they drive using the “Force”,talk using their hands, drink a lot of wine and change governments like underwear. Mythical as they may be, there is one that holds a kernel of truth – the Italians build inside of their world not on top of it. Watch the world while you relief yourself is not the only example of this. When you enter Assisi you see signs leading you to an underground parking garage, placed overlying and within Etruscan ruins. You park your car near a 2,000 yr old Corinthian column, get out and see large ancient granite stone blocks integrated into modern concrete. You are gently led to the exits by large opaque glass openings cut into ancient walls exposing natural lighting from outside.
The Italians welcome history and the environment into daily life. A cynic might say, they have no choice. When your town is perched on a 60 degree hill 1,000 feet vertical and happens to be the home town of a famous saint who talked to animals, you can’t escape it. Too expensive to tear down 500 year old buildings, cheaper, and more appealing to renovate them. So the Italians deal with antiquity from the medieval streets designed for horsecarts to foundations dug by the Romans. They restore and integrate the past into the present. What existed should continue to exist but must do so within the needs of the present. Yes, occasionally convenience and logic bow to elegance and tradition maybe that is why cities are not grided,but maybe that is why do many find Italy so charming. In America you may find the signage sensible and the streets perpendicular but where else will you stop to admire a parking garage or stand in front of a panoramic plate glass window and meet a basic moment of need.
Unpublished work © 2009 Stanford Shoor
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Smarter
Last night I attended a KQED fundraiser featuring two Capitol correspondents from NBR. One of them strongly recommended that the audience of 50 plusers obtain a Twitter account and begin using it. It was a method of communication that she thought would influence daily life and change the way we interact. While I don’t mind 128 character handcuffs, I wasn’t convinced of the revolutionary promise of micro-mass communication. So, I googled back in time and found similar paradigm busters in the past.
Let’s start with Cro-Magnon man. At the time, state of the art mass media was shouting and wailing. The bandwidth however was limited and the hearing impaired were out of luck. So some bright group of cave college students struck it rich selling an IPA that produced the new, new technology of drums and buffalo horns. Known as rhythm and blues it quickly replaced the screamers and wailers who ended up unemployed and panhandling for elephant tusks. “Get a drum and horn”, the young people said, “Start sending messages. It will change your life”. “Screaming and wailing is dead”. The people blew their horns and felt smarter.
The rhythm and blues period lasted several millennia. Until one day, as an obsessive compulsive Neanderthal was rubbing sticks together in a pile of dry leaves, a flash of light arose and the leaves started to burn.. Where fire there is is smoke and soon some entrepreneurial guy created a new form of mass communication—smoke signals. “Smoke would change human behavior forever”, they said. “Light travels further than sound. No more hyperventilation or carpal tunnel syndrome”.
Campfires sprouted up all over the place. You could barbeque your mastodon meat while signaling your friends to tell what you were having for dinner. “Drums and horns are things of the past” advised the tribal leaders, “Build a fire, buy yourself a blanket and start “signaling”. The people smoked and began feeling smarter.
It only took one millennium to realize the limitations of smoke. You couldn’t send a signal after dark and carbon monoxide was killing people. That’s when the Babylonians stepped up.
Bored while smoke signaling a chatty friend, a young woman began doodling on muddy sandstone .Soon others realized that one could draw unique shapes to represent concepts and thoughts. It no longer took 10 stick figure drawings to indicate an encounter with a wildebeest, a simple set of symbols would convey the same meaning. Cuneiform was born; “Smoke-a-log era” was replaced by the more precise “Cune-igital” era. Given an ample supply of sandstone an economy grew up around the Tigris Euphrates and it soon became known as “Sandstone Valley” Every 10yrs the size of the sandstone tablets would decrease by 1/3 and the price would drop. Everyone had a Sandberry and common etching on city walls became known as “Sandbook” a place where you could post new prayers and details of your love life.
The wise men sung the praises of the new communication and told the masses “Buy a tablet, start etching—it will revolutionize your life”. The people starting scrawling and they felt smarter.
But the Babylonians patents wouldn’t be safe. Further west, another cradle of civilization was about to bust a paradigm. Egyptian farmers used papyrus reeds to wipe off the color of seed husks that they harvested. Egyptian teenagers observed this and realized that if they got the oily dark substance on their fingers and wrote on the dried papyrus, they could easily send notes in class to their friends, a task impossible with bulky sandstone tablets. Husk ink and papyrus sales skyrocketed in the souks of Cairo. The cuneiform bubble burst and with it the Babylonian-sandstone based economy. A“higher” form of media or “hieroglyphics” was born and the young Egyptians who popularized became known as “Nile-ists”. The Pharaohs proclaimed that all should begin using the new technology—“Dry same papyrus and start glyphing”. The people did and they felt smarter.
Until the Athenians intervened. An out of work high school Greek teacher became interested in the overlapping conversations that were taking place in the local plaza. He had heard of the days before symbols when people actually used shouting and wailing. Putting the two together, he created a fusion technology where people spoke together in a group and assembled to “act out” stories. These “plays” of words became a craze and soon the new method of communication. The philosophers advised the people: “Go to the theatre, join a chorus”—the spoken word is in; the written word is old school”. And the masses complied and they felt smarter.
It didn’t end there though. After a young Macedonian pumped up on steroids ran 26miles to announce a victory at the battle of Marathon, venture capitalists created Athens on Line (AOL) and athletes began carrying news and information between city states. Instant messaging was born and the experts predicted it would last 3 thousand years. “Hire a messenger, send a text message s anywhere anytime—plays and choruses are for entertainment only---messaging is the future. And the people messaged and they felt smarter.
And so the pattern would have continued right on through when a German named Guttenberg was goofing around in the office, trying to imprint his rear end on some liturgical text and discovered moveable type.
Except for those pesky Greeks. An irascible brick mason named Socrates used to hang around the Agoura in Athens interrupting speeches and bargaining sessions by an odd technique. Instead of stating like everyone else, he asked questions-about everything. Why is there air? Is truth knowledge? Why did the chicken cross the road? The old coot drove people crazy, interfering with business deals and bringing the otherwise confident Athenians into a state where they weren’t sure of anything. What goes around comes around----or does it just keeping going? Is revenge sweet or is it sour? And finally the topper----Is information knowledge or is it just information? This last one threw the philosophers and soothsayers into a panic. What should they tell the people?
You mean it wasn’t how you communicated or even what you communicated--it was the meaning of the information? You mean the medium is only the message? Not the truth? How do you get smarter? Reflect? Think? Analyze?
Panic ensued, the price of lamb and sheep plummeted, dropping the stock market to record lows. The word anxiety and stress were born and some even blamed the plague on the uncertainty. Eventually with the help of a huge Spartan defense budget, they fought off the invading Persians, started the Olympics and cemented their place in history.
So will I follow the advice of the Capitol correspondents for NPR? Do I “tweet” I to a “twitter” account and learn the smoke signals and hieroglyphics of the new 128 character language?
I will. But, when I do so, I will promise the old stone mason and his Platonic buddies that however smarter I think I feel after I “tweet” I will still take the time to ask myself what it all means. Maybe that will make me smarter.
Unpublished work © 2009 Stanford Shoor
Let’s start with Cro-Magnon man. At the time, state of the art mass media was shouting and wailing. The bandwidth however was limited and the hearing impaired were out of luck. So some bright group of cave college students struck it rich selling an IPA that produced the new, new technology of drums and buffalo horns. Known as rhythm and blues it quickly replaced the screamers and wailers who ended up unemployed and panhandling for elephant tusks. “Get a drum and horn”, the young people said, “Start sending messages. It will change your life”. “Screaming and wailing is dead”. The people blew their horns and felt smarter.
The rhythm and blues period lasted several millennia. Until one day, as an obsessive compulsive Neanderthal was rubbing sticks together in a pile of dry leaves, a flash of light arose and the leaves started to burn.. Where fire there is is smoke and soon some entrepreneurial guy created a new form of mass communication—smoke signals. “Smoke would change human behavior forever”, they said. “Light travels further than sound. No more hyperventilation or carpal tunnel syndrome”.
Campfires sprouted up all over the place. You could barbeque your mastodon meat while signaling your friends to tell what you were having for dinner. “Drums and horns are things of the past” advised the tribal leaders, “Build a fire, buy yourself a blanket and start “signaling”. The people smoked and began feeling smarter.
It only took one millennium to realize the limitations of smoke. You couldn’t send a signal after dark and carbon monoxide was killing people. That’s when the Babylonians stepped up.
Bored while smoke signaling a chatty friend, a young woman began doodling on muddy sandstone .Soon others realized that one could draw unique shapes to represent concepts and thoughts. It no longer took 10 stick figure drawings to indicate an encounter with a wildebeest, a simple set of symbols would convey the same meaning. Cuneiform was born; “Smoke-a-log era” was replaced by the more precise “Cune-igital” era. Given an ample supply of sandstone an economy grew up around the Tigris Euphrates and it soon became known as “Sandstone Valley” Every 10yrs the size of the sandstone tablets would decrease by 1/3 and the price would drop. Everyone had a Sandberry and common etching on city walls became known as “Sandbook” a place where you could post new prayers and details of your love life.
The wise men sung the praises of the new communication and told the masses “Buy a tablet, start etching—it will revolutionize your life”. The people starting scrawling and they felt smarter.
But the Babylonians patents wouldn’t be safe. Further west, another cradle of civilization was about to bust a paradigm. Egyptian farmers used papyrus reeds to wipe off the color of seed husks that they harvested. Egyptian teenagers observed this and realized that if they got the oily dark substance on their fingers and wrote on the dried papyrus, they could easily send notes in class to their friends, a task impossible with bulky sandstone tablets. Husk ink and papyrus sales skyrocketed in the souks of Cairo. The cuneiform bubble burst and with it the Babylonian-sandstone based economy. A“higher” form of media or “hieroglyphics” was born and the young Egyptians who popularized became known as “Nile-ists”. The Pharaohs proclaimed that all should begin using the new technology—“Dry same papyrus and start glyphing”. The people did and they felt smarter.
Until the Athenians intervened. An out of work high school Greek teacher became interested in the overlapping conversations that were taking place in the local plaza. He had heard of the days before symbols when people actually used shouting and wailing. Putting the two together, he created a fusion technology where people spoke together in a group and assembled to “act out” stories. These “plays” of words became a craze and soon the new method of communication. The philosophers advised the people: “Go to the theatre, join a chorus”—the spoken word is in; the written word is old school”. And the masses complied and they felt smarter.
It didn’t end there though. After a young Macedonian pumped up on steroids ran 26miles to announce a victory at the battle of Marathon, venture capitalists created Athens on Line (AOL) and athletes began carrying news and information between city states. Instant messaging was born and the experts predicted it would last 3 thousand years. “Hire a messenger, send a text message s anywhere anytime—plays and choruses are for entertainment only---messaging is the future. And the people messaged and they felt smarter.
And so the pattern would have continued right on through when a German named Guttenberg was goofing around in the office, trying to imprint his rear end on some liturgical text and discovered moveable type.
Except for those pesky Greeks. An irascible brick mason named Socrates used to hang around the Agoura in Athens interrupting speeches and bargaining sessions by an odd technique. Instead of stating like everyone else, he asked questions-about everything. Why is there air? Is truth knowledge? Why did the chicken cross the road? The old coot drove people crazy, interfering with business deals and bringing the otherwise confident Athenians into a state where they weren’t sure of anything. What goes around comes around----or does it just keeping going? Is revenge sweet or is it sour? And finally the topper----Is information knowledge or is it just information? This last one threw the philosophers and soothsayers into a panic. What should they tell the people?
You mean it wasn’t how you communicated or even what you communicated--it was the meaning of the information? You mean the medium is only the message? Not the truth? How do you get smarter? Reflect? Think? Analyze?
Panic ensued, the price of lamb and sheep plummeted, dropping the stock market to record lows. The word anxiety and stress were born and some even blamed the plague on the uncertainty. Eventually with the help of a huge Spartan defense budget, they fought off the invading Persians, started the Olympics and cemented their place in history.
So will I follow the advice of the Capitol correspondents for NPR? Do I “tweet” I to a “twitter” account and learn the smoke signals and hieroglyphics of the new 128 character language?
I will. But, when I do so, I will promise the old stone mason and his Platonic buddies that however smarter I think I feel after I “tweet” I will still take the time to ask myself what it all means. Maybe that will make me smarter.
Unpublished work © 2009 Stanford Shoor
Friday, January 21, 2011
Road Kill on the Information Superhighway
The day is about to begin. I wake up in terror believing the white male cat sleeping on my chest is the beginning of a life ending heart attack. I navigate the dark cold hallway, festooned with an assortment of night lights and wait in vain for my joints to revert to the plasticity of 40 years prior. I shuffle like an old janitor on graveyard toward the coffee machine brewing up a pot of brown courage. I fill my cup and take a slurp. Now I am ready to face the demon of my day---information.
A dumb one tone cord and a mellow azure screen answer to the touch of the on button and while the fan whirs I start humming.
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that sav’d ludites like me. I once was lost in analog but digital I see”
I imagine a squirrel trying to cross six lanes of rush hour traffic. Only for me it’s bandwidth on the information superhighway.
Okay, First study the traffic.
I check three different email accounts, trimming spam and junk like a butcher in a hog packing plant. I dump the “reply alls” and IWI’s (info without importance- the one phrasers like “ thanks” “see you soon” “hasta luego”, “god bless”
Having separated the spam lumps from the knowledge gravy, now I can prioritize. My tiny chipmunk eyes dart back and forth, looking for a crossing. But wait, a drop down box appears at the top of the screen opening like a heavy Venetian blind with a broken cord. “Loans 5.7% fixed” with a tiny woman dancing like a marionette to command of some pimple faced programmer.
“What’s our current interest rate? I ask myself” Maybe we should re-finance?”
“No, no don’t get distracted” I tell myself, “back to prioritizing”
So I return to the remaining list of messages.
Should I start with the latest or maybe I should group them by name of sender or by discussion thread? I decide to start with today’s. Wait I want to file that message in a folder but first I have to find the folder. Where is it? Hold on partner, you’re losing your concentration. Back to the prioritizing. Can’t respond until you prioritize. Just when I’m making progress, here comes an important update on the stock market. I dodge that one but it’s immediately replaced by a picture of a new Obama cabinet picks, then by a newsletter announcing a blockbuster sale on wines. I eliminate ‘em both start to regain my composure and I’m making progress, stepping out carefully from the shoulder of the highway, when all of a sudden I see it – like a rodent sees a big rig bearing down. The concentration buster, the email that would tempt even the earth to abandon its rotation around the sun. This is the “OS” message—short for “Oh, s….” The surprise reply, the crisis, the refusal, the deadline. It begins with: “I am sorry but”… or “We have a problem” or “Your appeal has been denied” “you have until 8am tomorrow!” I scurry back to the shoulder of the info highway craft a cogent, calm, legally nonbinding response and then prepare to dart back into the flow of email when I realize
“Wait, how about my work?”, “That’s right, that’s where those checks come from.” Forgot about my daily calendar, oh oh am I prepared for that meeting? I was supposed to read those 5 attachments; better take a look.”
I look at one of the attachments which quotes a recent editorial and remember my new years’ resolution from 1999—“read the front page of the NY Times and Wall Street Journal daily”. But that reminds me of sports, “Okay I’ll just check the scores for a second. Wait, there’s an interesting blog.”
“Um, a message from one of my son’s, maybe I should look at that?” “Wait, I promised myself I was going to review my portfolio this week” Should I locate that instead?” Info coming fast in both directions, I’m a bug eyed cartoon character about to get hilariously flattened by a garbage truck of data bytes.
Okay, let’s review my portfolio. Should I review prices or earnings? Should I compare trends over the last week or last five years? . Wow---jagged lines up and down, is that the Dow Jones average or am I getting a migraine.
Now I feel like a negligent father who wandered off on an information side path and abandoned my child. As I start to open my son’s message I remember that I have unfinished work at my job.
So, I abandon the Times, my son and the stock market and pull up the electronic medical record. Oh my god! Thirty five patient messages, 25 emergency refills, 80 lab results, 50 x-rays to review. Should I start with the labs? Okay. But the first lab I check is abnormal, so I retrieve the patient’s record, realize I have to open her digital x-ray image and as I start to read it I realize there is an emergency request in my refill box. But, wasn’t I comparing the x-rays? Wait, I didn’t finish my email…
I try to look back down my information trail but can’t retrace my steps, all the links look the same, the tabs are blurry, and I can’t find that first screen that I started at. I’m fading, getting sweaty, irritable, feeling lightheaded, lips and mouse hand going numb, right clicking spasmodically—a cyber panic attack is setting in.
Time for help.
I envison analog police joined by a cyber social worker.
-“Sir, “Take your hands off the keyboard, put them over your eyes and step away from the screen”
-“Just breathe, repeat your mantra ‘info no, let it go’. Now imagine yourself in the 14th century before the invention of the printing press, reciting myths” I regain my composure with some tough self talk, “You goin to feel guilty if you don’t answer every message, check every lab, and respond to every query? Can’t leave a little info clutter on the old desktop, can’t stand to see your in-basket bubbling with one million bytes, threatening to fry your CPU and your sense of control? Clean plate club, tidy room syndrome? Let it go…”
The smell of chocolate chip cookies blows in from the kitchen like a monsoon, sucking my cortex down to my gut. Hunger. Time to consume.
So I leave the room, pulling back off the shoulder of the highway. I enter the kitchen; savor a gooey chocolate moment and a milk moustache.
Visceral, not cerebral; bites instead of bytes. Starting to get a little sleepy, mind drifting…
Then suddenly a pre-set alarm goes off on my laptop calendar, I stand at attention, quickly wipe the fat and chocolate off my fingers and return to computer, a couple of cookie crumbs from my moustache littering the keyboard.
A Web Ex conference in progress, I’m late. Got to re-enter flow of traffic, can’t remember which of my twenty five passwords to use. First car, favorite pet, biggest regret? Back to the conference, Power Point presentations, Word documents, EXCEL spreadsheet flash across the screen, the conference is rolling along. Then up comes an instant message marked urgent and photos on the screen from the office party.
The desktop is full, no space to minimize, losing the Web conference, my heart’s racing, the laptop fan is in overdrive trying to cool the CPU, quick, quick, a giant semi of bites and bytes coming into my cache, entering my disc drive, quick close down some files, avoid…. Damn! Primitive black and white error messages fill the screen, I’m going down. Eject eject!--- the screen goes black.
It’s over. Splat!!
I’m road kill on the information superhighway.
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