Yes I'm the Girl Who Said the Teacher Would Never Know

Though I was the girl in class who said that her takeaway from the article was that the teacher would never know if we cheated, I legitimately participated in the media deprivation activity.

How I spent my media deprivation:
.5 hours—Reading Reader’s Digest
2 hours—talking to family
8 hours—sleeping
11 hours—at work: actually working, gossiping with co-worker, building a fire in a trash can
1 hour—driving with only the hum of the engine, the whir of the fan, and my loud off-key singing
1 hour—eating in silence while reading The Washington Post Magazine
.5 hours--making hand-written lists such as this one

I planned my media deprivation activity around my favorite media, having huge media binges before and after the 24 hour period. I would be lying if I did not speak of the inevitability of media in my daily life, however. During the 24 hour period, I did use media in specific situations at my work. I answered the company phone 5 times—answering questions about merchandise and hours. I also used the computer’s point of sale software 7 times. E-media has become so engrained in our society that to refuse to use it is to refuse to do even the least media-related jobs.

When I was thinking I might try to write about the activity without actually doing it, I imagined that I would be totally miserable without media. I thought I would be like the student in Danna Walker’s class who felt “homeless”. I knew that my family would not be supportive (and they weren’t) because they are as dependent as I am. I thought that life without media would be void of joy, too quiet and too boring.

In actuality, when I was depriving myself of media, I was not too terribly bored. Though I did crave media, I had lots of time to be alone with my thoughts. I felt more together and more creative for the few hours I unplugged myself. If only I had the willpower to deprive myself more often.

An all-around smarter guy

There is an inherent catch-22 in the debate over word or image-based communications. Never has it been so obvious as in “Two Cultures” in which the individual who favored book learning came across as much more intelligent and eloquent (on paper) than the woman who set out to defend the television. Coincidence? I think not.

One of the major issues of the article is the question of whether or not images eliminate sacredness. This question is similar to Benjamin’s discussion of the loss of aura. Indeed, Postman cites the Hebrew National commercials that use God and Uncle Sam to sell hot dogs. He argues that images have a symbolism and a seductiveness that make them much easier to be exploited than words, so they are overused and quickly lose their value. Paglia, on the other hand, says that images actually become more powerful the more frequently they are used. Although I think that Paglia is right about images’ symbolic meaning becoming more and more concrete with repetition, this watered-down meaning is really a far cry from its original complexities.

Clearly, Postman won the debate. Because he had been trained in the word with its solid histories of logic and values, he was able to communicate much more clearly (granted: in print). Postman supplied Paglia with words and presented a much smoother, more professional line of reasoning. Maybe that’s because of the medium used, but I think that it gets at something much deeper—the natural superiority of the written word.

Getting in Bed with Pop Culture

One of the most well-done scenes in Nosferatu is a montage near the climax of the film that achieves almost Hitchcockian suspense. It is at this point that the race for Mina between Harker and Dracula reaches an almost fervent pace. Here, the audience is unsure of what the conclusion might be and which side will triumph. This scene symbolizes the race between the traditional and the unknown, which is ultimately the battle represented in the film. In fact, this scene supports the film’s message that, though unforeseen obstacles may arise to threaten society’s security, heroes can arise who, through sacrifice, can help others.
The director of Nosferatu, Murnau, effectively used a succession of images also known as a montage to develop feelings of anticipation and suspense. The first scene in the montage shows Mina scurrying diagonally across the screen, clutching her shawl across herself. Then, a close-up of the billowing sails on a boat is shown to represent the rapidly approaching boat (carrying Count Dracula). Then, a shot of Renfield trying to scale the wall of the prison is presented. Next, there is a longer shot of the boat moving onto the screen from the right. Finally, Renfield is shown from behind, trying to look through the bars of his high jail window. As the music reaches a frantic pitch, titles are shown saying, “The Master is coming! The Master is here!” These juxtaposed images are combined to create a flowing narrative of the feared Dracula entering Mina’s once benign world.

Ultimately, this film’s message is one of sacrifice in order to preserve a serene, romantic lifestyle. When Mina’s home and community is threatened, she is willing to sleep with the vampire to maintain the life she is accustomed to. The montage scene lays the battle between good and evil out in visual terms by juxtaposing Mina with the ship carrying the vampire. It also foreshadows the action Mina will have to take to save that which she loves. By creating such a dramatic montage at this point in the film, the filmmakers are trying to draw the viewers’ attention to the fact that these concepts are of central importance to understanding Nosferatu.

Some cultural critics have drawn comparisons between vampires and mechanized art forms such as cinema. They think that mechanized art drains the life and creativity from art just like a vampire drains the blood from his victims. By extending this metaphor, we could claim that it may be necessary to “lay down” with mechanized art for certain periods of time. Indeed, mechanized art can act as a vampire only if we allow it to. Dramatic as it may seem, some cultural critics would say that society has symbolically reached the montage point in the film where “low culture” races to attack “high culture.” I believe that society as a whole has benefited because the various forms of art occasionally are bed fellows, collaborating across disciplines to create a truly meaningful experience for all people.

WAR OF THE WORDS

How do words become acceptable in standard writing? Prescriptivists (people who argue that language should be dictated to the masses) try to present the standard as rigid, infallible, and very historic. They resist change, referring to it as a perversion. They give the impression that the standard (language acceptable in newspapers or college essays) is somehow above the rest of society, an elite entity that is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. These prescriptivists would say that language change is better left to descriptionists (people who argue that no one language is better than another). The vernacular, they would say, is the appropriate place for new words or ways of saying things. Regardless of what the prescriptivists might say, however, the standard is very dynamic and attuned to the will of the general public. Like all other media, dictionaries and style guides are a part of the circuit of culture; they embody many of the steps along the ongoing cycle of representation, identity, production, consumption, and regulation.

How does a word come into being? A word or grammatical structure can find its genesis in a variety of ways. Some words are the products of acronyms such as “laser” which stands for light amplified by stimulated emission of radiation. Some words are coined such as “zipper” or “aspirin” which were originally brand names. Still other words are blended such as “smog” as a combination of smoke and fog. Interestingly, these words began as representations of a concept for which there was no other word, and like all linguistic developments, they were not instantly accepted into the standard. Contemporary parallel words that are widely used and understood, but are not actually part of the standard include “badunkadunk”, “kleenex”, and “crunk”. These words were innovated as a means of expression, a way of representing something in a new manner. And, of course, it is possible that they will one day work their way into the standard, just like their forefathers—“popularity”, “busy”, and “heinous.”

Just like every other aspect of culture, words proceed from the representation stage to the identity stage. Certain words begin to become markers of identity for certain groups of people. For example, the word “gnarly” has basically been relocated to the world of surfers. It may never find its way into the standard because the people who identify with that word are not the type of people (affluent, elitist newspaper people) who ultimately set the standard. Some other words, however, are likely to become part of the standard because of the fact that they find a place in the lexicon of those very people. For example, “bioweapon”, although it was only added to the Concise Oxford English Dictionary a couple of years ago, seems to already be making great strides towards legitimacy in the eyes of the standard because it is frequently used in professional newspapers and television programs. Thus, a symbiotic relationship is created between words and their speakers: speakers find identity in their words and words find identity in their speakers.

Of course, after words find a viable identity within a community, they are produced in the media. Marketing experts tap into these words and find ways to use them to reach out to a particular demographic. For example, after the word “badonkadonk” was used in popular songs, it soon became marketed back to the populace via clothing and other items. Retail is not the only medium for production, however. More high-culture words may simply be produced in dictionaries. Indeed, words find their way into dictionaries because dictionary makers monitor a word’s use in the popular media. The word “blog” made its dictionary production debut as recently as 2004. Obviously, production occurs when companies (whether dictionary or otherwise) see a viable identity and capitalize upon it.

When identities are marketed to the general populace, they are usually consumed, thereby spreading the identity like wildfire. Thus, though a word might start out with a very small identity, that identity could grow and grow if it is produced and consumed effectively. So, because “blog” is added to the dictionary, and because there is no standard alternative for “blog”, the public buys into it. “Blog” (and its other forms such as “blogger” and “blogosphere”) are now commonplace words used by the everyday people as well as people who seemingly speak the standard like Dan Rather. With every individual consumption of a word, that word becomes more and more cemented as a symbol of a particular identity, and it is both the producers and the consumers who play a role in what that identity might be.

The most ambiguous part of a word’s circle of culture is its regulation. How exactly does a word become part of a standard? Evidently, simply gaining a line in an accepted dictionary is not enough to appease prescriptivists because “bling bling” is a part of the Oxford English Dictionary, yet it is not appropriate for use in professional or scholarly pieces. Indeed, there is no exact litmus test for standard English writing. However, standard English is regulated via style guides and their very vocal enforcers, English teachers and newspaper editors. Words become a part of the standard when they have found a successful representation, identity, production, and consumption among the appropriate audience—the elite prescriptivists.

Interestingly enough, once words have become part of the standard, they begin the cycle all over again, gaining new privileges among new speakers. The words find new identities among different communities who either reject or embrace the word based on its newly regulated status. In this manner, words (even words in the rigid standard) are constantly in flux, being invented and re-invented. Even the standard that is supposed to be so resistant to outside influences is susceptible to the circuit of culture. Standard English is just as alive and dynamic as the people who speak it.

Admitting You Have a Problem

Admitting You Have a Problem

When I was younger, my parents would always say that I was a “TV-aholic.” I have very fond memories of the programs I watched as a kid—Boy Meets World, Family Matters, Step by Step. You can’t really fault the shows I liked; they’re wholesome enough. In fact, I watch mostly these same shows today-only in syndication. Indeed, my parents’ problem with my media consumption was not the quality of the programs (they’re all basically positive and family-friendly), but in the quantity.
My parents were right about my rabid consumption of media; it is a hindrance. I’m convinced that television fasts, like fasts from food, would give me a quieter lifestyle with more time for prayer. So far I’ve only succeeded, however, in temporarily substituting one media source for another. For example, I’ve found that books are much more portable (and therefore accessible) than TVs (I’m currently in love with Ted Dekker). So, I’ve always been a prolific reader (and because my mother is a librarian, this pastime hasn’t been met by the same criticism as being a prolific TV-watcher). In recent years, I’ve also acquired a laptop, so I spend a great deal of time online looking up various things. I especially like to look at podcasts of some of my favorite bands. Like every other college student in America, I have an MP3 player and I love listening to loud Christian rock, so sometimes even my peaceful walks around campus are set to the driving tempo of screaming noise. Even when I’m trying stay away from the media, my fingers sometimes type the URL for Facebook without my conscious knowledge. So, my “quiet” time eventually becomes filled with noise anyway. Not bad noise in and of itself, but noise that drowns out the Voice I’m really looking for.
So, over time, I have only become more addicted to the media. My media habits have diversified to include TV, movies, magazines, books, music, and the internet—often all at the same time. Yes, I’m guilty of televisaphonerneting, quizjacking, and wi-fiving. I’m not sure what I would do without the media. Maybe my parents were right to say I was a “TV-aholic”. Maybe I should take the first step and admit I have a problem. “Hi, I’m Cairna and I’m addicted to the media.” (“Hi Cairna.”)

Blog 1: Decisions, Decisions...

I am a bit obsessive when it comes to planning ahead. As the oldest of 7 very active kids, one quickly learns to plan far in advance. So, when I make decisions, I always research fully and plan extensively. Who I am is a girl who likes to be well-informed. And, though the reasons I am here may be less than glowing, I am happy to say that it has all worked out.
Decisions (at least my decisions) normally feel rather anti-climatic. In deciding, a world of extravagant possibilities is narrowed down to meager reality. I had visited many colleges up and down the eastern seaboard. My teachers were all expecting great things. I chose UMBC. After years of planning and scheming, the actual decision to go to UMBC took only a day or two. After considering the packages offered me by the various schools, my bank account made my decision for me (did I mention I’m the oldest of 7 kids?). I signed the necessary forms and was instantly an incoming freshman at a school that was not on the original short list.
As I go about picking classes, I write numerous rough drafts. I pore over the schedule of classes, and obsess over the course catalog. I meet with way too many advisors. I inquire of friends and use RateMyProfessor. In the end, though, I choose something. That something is the result of weeks of hemming and hawing, but in the end the choosing takes but a few minutes. I decide and then move on. I remember choosing AMST 222 in much the same fashion. I considered my options, bearing in mind the requirements for the Certificate. I consulted my advisor, Dr. Loviglio. I remembered how much I’d enjoyed AMST 100H with Professor King before. And then I just signed up, the 30 seconds it took to register a mockery of my hours of careful thought.
We’re told in high school that the college we choose should be a perfect fit for us; we shouldn’t mess this decision up or we may end up regretting it for the rest of our lives. We’re also told that if we don’t choose the right major, we’ll forever be miserable, wishing we had chosen a different path. Some even say to choose the right classes or a part of our undergraduate career will be wasted—a part we can never get back. I am a testament, however, to the fact that all things work together for good. Though UMBC was kind of a last resort decision, I’m a senior and have loved my time here. Though my classes have sometimes been chosen out of convenience, I don’t regret a single one. Now, as I face graduation, and the big scary world, I’m planning and researching more than ever. And, after much deliberation, my decision to apply to law school may soon be made with mere clicks of a mouse. From my experience, I'm sure whatever I choose will work out.