Is the Internet like a dying star?

In an article I recently I stumbled upon, ironically through twitter, from a Newsletter by technology writer Charlie Warzel at The Atlantic on the stultifying nature of social media. Warzel interviewed technology theorist LM Sarcasas who believes social media contributes to our collective feeling of being stuck in an endless loop of devastating news:

“There’s a well-ordered way of relating to time—how much attention you give to the past, present, and future,” he said. “I don’t mean to suggest that one way is the good way or the bad way, but it seems as if most of us are disproportionately focused on what has already happened. Not just the events themselves, but the layers of commentary atop of them.”

Not to summarize the entire article, but it describes in a concise way the extent to which social media keeps us chained to the past, caught in a never-ending loop of hopelessness. He compares the social media experience to staring at a star that appears to be alive and bright when in reality it's dying (because of light years). A mass shooting or an international crisis proceeds on twitter like a liturgical set of events: initial shock, outrage, despair, and eventual vertigo/amnesia at the end of the cycle. Repeat the next day.

Furthermore, there’s the dance of everyone commenting on everyone else and not the actual event. Having so many reactions and viewpoints assaulting our brains abstracts everything, possibly akin to living in a hive mind, reminding us hell is other people. It all leads to a stasis and all the negative byproducts: inaction, despair, depression, hopelessness. Morbidity is endemic on twitter.

As a thought experiment, I imagined if something like twitter had existed during The Second World War. All the dark days in the early years of the conflict: the fall of Poland and France, Dunkirk, or Pearl Harbor The famous photograph of Hitler in Paris or of a bombed-out London, would've led to a collective despair that defeating Fascism was impossible. After the destruction of the fleet at Pearl Harbor or the fall of the Philippines, I see think pieces from The Atlantic and twitter threads of doom and gloom of how crossing the English Channel to liberate Europe was impossible.

The main point is that social media traps us in the past like ants in amber, always in reaction mode. To quote Warzel: 

Constantly absorbing and commenting on things that have just happened sounds to me like a recipe for feeling powerless. Online, I frequently feel both stuck in the past but presented with a grim projection of the future. There is very little focus on the present, which is a place where we derive agency. We can act now.

The article presents no options for finding our way out of this conundrum. We've seen how influencers monetize their influence after a tragedy or even a celebrity scandal, they are like the folks who built an amusement park near a dying man trapped in a hole in Billy Wilder's Ace in the Hole. A new crop of politicians is more concerned with their tweets stirring disgust than actual policymaking. The influencer impulse is everywhere - digital carnival barkers.

Simply walking away won't work. Could there be counter type of influencing of a more positive variety? Could Utopian ideas catch hold? Messianic figures are dangerous by trade and there are way too many pretenders who imagine themselves as such on twitter. These questions lead to deeper historical questions of what or who serves as a catalyst for futuristic thinking. But technology is still simply a tool, and we can learn how to live with it. It's a crucial question, and while looking to science fiction or visionary biographies are important and have their place, it will come down to more people making decisions towards something better. It will take creativity, historical knowledge, and transcendence. 

A link to the article: https://newsletters.theatlantic.com/galaxy-brain/629ec16551acba002091af11/internet-social-media-reactionary-doom-loop/

Synching Movies with Albums

The practice of synching rock albums with movies came to popular attention when people started playing Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon with The Wizard of Oz. Fans noted the uncanny connections between the lyrics on the album with what's going in the film. Ever since there's been a small community seeking out the perfect synch - there are a few interesting websites. It's been pointed out by many that putting any piece music against any visual media and they will start to synch. There's something mysterious about it. Recently, I experimented a little on my own. An important approach is to find an album and a film with similar themes. So play any Radiohead or Pink Floyd album against a dystopian Sci-Fi and you'll start to see connections. Ideally, the synch will reveal multiple layers of meaning within the film and the music. Here are some of the ones I tried.

 (12 Monkeys - Radiohead: Ok Computer) - Terry Gilliam's 1995 dystopia dealing with time travel, deadly viruses, secret societies, and madness may be his best film. Bruce Willis stars as a confused and weary man sent back from the future to stop a deadly plague from decimating humanity. Radiohead released Ok Computer in 1997, one of the epochal albums of the decade. Thom Yorke's lyrics are filled apocalyptical imagery and rock/electronica music mimicking how a machine might compose music goes along quite well with the film. Bruce Willis wondering through a desolate landscape as "Exit Music (for a film)" plays captures the wide eyed melancholy of the movie. 

(The Matrix - Radiohead: Kid A) There are many albums to play alongside The Matrix, ranging from heavy metal to prog rock. Radiohead's Kid A perfectly synchs with Neo, Morpheus, and Trinity, the first line of the film "Is Everything in Place" practically introduces the opening track "Everything In It's Right Place." Placing together two important pieces of art at the dawn of the Millennium hits all the right notes as they move between themes of despair and personal liberation. 

(American Graffiti - Paul McCartney and Wings: Red Rose Speedway) A perfect synch. Paul McCartney's slightly retro 1973 album is romantic and nostalgic, going for the energy of the early Beatles records and their epic sounding latter albums. Tracks like "Get on the Right Thing "and "When the Night" are ideal with the neon/nighttime energy of the film. Even Paul's maligned hit single "My Love" works well.

(Three Days of the Condor - The Alan Parson Project: Eye in the Sky) - Maybe the most enlightening synch, adding much to the experience of the album and the film with paranoia and surveillance being at the center of both works. "Sirius" is often used by sports teams to pump up the crowd before a game, here as the opening credits roll it has the feel of encroaching doom. Condor plays less as a post-Watergate paranoid thriller and more as a European art film with a Sci-Fi bent when played with Eye in the Sky, especially in the scenes between Robert Redford and Faye Dunaway. 

(The Shining - The Beatles: The White Album) - My own concoction, an attempt mash up Kubrick with the Beatles, who have a slight historical connection. Kubrick made his home outside of London while the Beatles were in their heyday, they even approached him about directing their adaptation of Lord of the Rings that never went beyond the talking stage. So, the Beatles with Kubrick makes for funky concoction. As the iconic opening credits roll, McCartney sings about about "snow peaked mountains way down south) on "Back in the USSR," while "Dear Prudence" takes on a more menacing tone as Jack enters the Overlook. John's satiric "Glass Onion" plays during the interview scene and on and on. The synch makes both works stranger and more mysterious.

To sum up, synching albums with movies is fun and makes you see both from a new angle. Perhaps our brains are designed to find patterns, the synch approach to media helps us become aware of this.