Where I Went to High School: Sunnydale High

Go SHS Razorbacks!

No, I'm not actually saying that I attended a fictional High School in an imaginary universe surrounding the events of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (aka "The Buffyverse"). But, If you really must know, I attended Patuxent High School in Lusby, Maryland.

PHS was a fine school, especially for a public one, where I participated in a number of programs ranging from soccer, cross country, and track and field, to the band program and everything involved therein. Starting junior year, I even had a fairly healthy social life and walked away with (arguably) acceptable social skills. But, that's pretty much what I have to say about that experience. I'm not very sentimental about the past. I believe in learning from mistakes, looking forward, and moving upward. I am far more interested in the stories of others than I am my own, fictitious or not. Also, most anything about you wish to know about that particular school has already been spelled out in wonderful detail here, written by personal O.G. and fellow Gent. B. Graham. I'll leave the personal details to those who where there and those who currently involve themselves in my life.

Regardless of its existential definition, I still managed to spend considerable time at Sunnydale High - typically once a week on Tuesdays from the hours of 8 pm to 9 pm*. Of course, these forays were private. I had been a closeted Buffy geek since the show first aired (while I was in middle school) and I didn't find anyone with whom I could share my fandom until a year after Buffy finished its run. Given, I also didn't tell many people about it - being male, straight, six-foot two, sixteen years of age, an athlete, and capable of growing a full beard in a week made my Buffy-love seem kind of out of place to everyone else. Anyone who found out would squint their eyes, tilt their head for awhile, and then their face would light up like they just figured out a $1 million question as they asked, "It's 'cause she's hot, right?" Admittedly, that didn't hurt (although, I was more of a Faith fan, truth be told). But, what can I say? I love vampires, strong-yet-flawed female leads, clever dialogue, and well-developed, relatable characters. And, that pretty much explains my man-love for Joss Whedon. But, I digress - when talking about Buffy it all inevitable boils down to one argument - should Buffy have left High School? Or, more to the point, did Buffy lose its point once the titular hero graduated?

It's hard to argue against the fact that Buffy was firing on all cylinders during Seasons 2 and 3. It's core concept was great - High School is actually Hell. Sunnydale High was located directly above a supernatural hotspot called a "Hellmouth." Guarded by an unnamed, giant, multi-headed demon (referred to by fans as "the Hellmouth Monster"), the Hellmouth(s) forms where the boundaries between dimensions are particularly thin. These inter-dimensionally fragile places are spots of mystical convergence - pooling supernatural energies, attracting various demons, and facilitating other paranormal activity. Many of the mystical events and demons represent different problems your average teenager may have to battle and overcome - and thus you had your engine for the show. Female teenager fights various demons inherent to graduating high school and growing up. That's Buffy in a nutshell - well, until she graduated.

I will defend to this day that Buffy's graduation didn't actually ruin the show. But, it did make things harder. Season 3 had a (near**) perfect wrap-up and the final exchange between Oz and Buffy represented it perfectly:

Oz: Guys. Take a moment to deal with this. We survived

Buffy: It was a hell of a battle.
Oz: Not the battle. High School.

Obviously, challenges surmount when this whole idea jumps out the window. However, I don't think Buffy, at this point in time, inherently "lost" its engine. Engine loss is a mislabeling of what happened. Instead, I think this reaction concerned Buffy growing up, its engine along with it, and an audience reaction to a show that changes. Following high school, Buffy went to college and eventually became an adult, while the engine reflected this slow evolution - and some didn't like that.

I should admit, the new engine in Season 4 was a little less stable. "College on a Hellmouth" does have a harder time standing on its own two feet. But, while the Initiative's presence (an underground, government operation representing the adult realization of "not knowing everything that causes everything") functions as an (albeit farfetched) stabilizing force, Buffy still worked as Buffy. Problems still arose with which people through the ages of 18-21 had to deal and battle - Buffy at this point in time, was still breathing (heh). Joss and co. were able to crank out quality episodes and a cohesive story arc - marked with some of the most poignant moments of the series. Season 5 came around and the engine solidified around a single premise - preventing inevitable doom by an actual god - and ended strongly with Buffy's foreshadowed*** death. And then, UPN happened.

Buffy was supposed to end in Season 5, but was revived into Season 6 after UPN dropped a fairly large check on Whedon's doorstep - which can breed its own problems. Season 6 is a television anomaly because it had nearly no engine. Instead it relied on Sunnydale as a supernatural hotspot to push the general (emphasis on general) plot and three major themes - life is Hell, the aimlessness and loneliness of being a young adult, and discovering the aspects of life that are hard/impossible to control. You'll notice in this season the lack of a "Big Bad" - the primary antagonist being life itself for this season. It's a novel idea and I liked it, but listlessness does not translate well on television - especially if your engine is going to reflect themes as much as Buffy's tended. This is, of course, in addition to the criticism covering Buffy's change in demeanor and the overall dark premise of Season 6. Buffy had very much lost her way and all of this season was about Buffy slowly finding it again (i.e. not wanting to die). And then, Season 7 solidified again with another stabilizing premise, a return to high school to strengthen Buffy's engine, and a satisfying end to a 7-year series. Buffy had finally grown up and the show was officially done.

Buffy was a show about growing up, overcoming obstacles, and defeating your demons - even if it is Hell. It was a great show with a solid run that evolved over the course of time. Were there bumps along the way? Sure, but each season had a reason for watching, took risks, and succeeded in being a poignant, self-aware commentary on life. High school was definitely its heyday - no one's going to argue against that. But, it was also a show that grew along with its strong, quippy heroine. And, I really dug something like that.

* - covers the time during which Buffy aired during the first 3 years of the series, while Buffy attended high school. "Buffyverse" time, of course, extended to 8 pm - 10 pm on tuesdays - after Buffy graduated and Angel began its run.
**- in reference to Angel leaving. Also, I'm still waiting for the cookie dough to finish baking.
***- I had no idea until today that in Buffy's dream sequence with Faith in "Graduation Day," where Faith says, "Little Miss Muffet counting down from 7-3-0" was actually referencing Dawn's involvement in Buffy's death at the end of season 5. "730" is the exact number of days before the episode airs where Buffy leaps from the tower and dies again.

Scientists Affirm: Meteor Impact Imminent.

News broke across the globe today as scientists confirmed that a meteor the size of Antarctica will collide with planet Earth in the near or distant future. While the specific date of impact has not been determined, scientists stated during the press conference that they expect Meteor U-5XB (nicked named either "The Ragna-rock," or simply "The End") to "eradicate all life as we know it. Possibly. Maybe." Despite this foreboding revelation, the scientific community assures the public, "Not to worry. This kind of thing happens, like, all the time," and that, "If Hollywood has told us anything, we have a protocol for this sort of thing." When asked about the track record for species surviving large meteor impact, the scientific community collectively shrugged and responded by saying, "Probably? Not good," and then abruptly left the press conference simply claiming that one of them had rented a DVD of Armageddon the other day and that they "needed to study it before they had to return [the film]." While exiting the conference, one scientists could be heard stating that, "this would not have been a problem if someone had just signed up for NetFlix like they were supposed to," but remained unclear regarding who was responsible for this error.

Meanwhile, a collective manhunt is underway in search of God to "bring him to justice for causing an inevitable end to life as we know it." The alleged deity is facing charges from over fifty countries who claim God responsible for attempted murder, crimes against humanity, and treason, amongst other international crimes. Federal authorities are currently studying each one of his manifestos, written more than a thousand years ago, as evidence of his involvement. There are no supreme deities in custody at this time and the collective search has yielded "no physical evidence" as to the creator's whereabouts. Authorities also claim that executing search warrants has been problematic based on the fact that he has so many places of residence. Currently, there is no physical description of the suspect - but many predict that "he probably wears a lot of robes and has a white beard [because] he's so old." Others raise issue with the sex of the suspect, asserting that the divine being is either female, hermaphroditic, or none of the above. Despite a lack of physical presence, popular opinion claims that to know that "God is everywhere" and an overwhelming amount of people have purported "finding [God]" - all of whom are currently undergoing rigorous investigation and interrogation. Experts suggest that the deity is extremely talented at "not being seen," and that others have been known to search for years without affirmatively finding him. Religious proponents affirm to have, "known this was going to happen all along" and wonder why people seem to be so surprised. Authorities ask that if anyone has seen, heard, or is unsure of whether they have seen the suspect to inform their local law enforcement agency immediately.

Eric Whitacre's Virtual Choir - "Lux Aurumque"

During July of 2009, conductor and composer Eric Whitacre released his first experiment in creating the world's first "virtual choir." Whitacre used YouTube to compile separate videos, each of an individual vocalist singing his or her respective part, and have them simultaneously perform Whitacre's own piece "Sleep." The experiment was a promising success and demonstrated vast implications for technology in the musical sphere. Now, over half a year later, Whitacre unveiled his final, finished production on the virtual choir project - a full chorus performing his composition "Lux Aurumque":

(Check it out even if this isn't your particular style of music. Seeing how they compiled the voices is reason enough to do so.)

Composed, Conducted, and Arranged by Eric Whitacre

Produced and Edited by Scottie Haines

In order to create the product you see above, Whitacre made the same casting call he made for Sleep - except he also created an instructional video providing a conducting track with which chorus members could sing and keep time. The video included instructions on when to start and stop recording, a piano part to aid participants, and even provided his own, personal instruction on how to tackle each voice. It's an extraordinary concept and provides a rare view into the musical world for most:

Through this process, producer Scott Haines collected, edited (only to correct for minor alterations in recording volume), and organized over 200 hundred different videos into a single chorus. All who wanted could participate, although auditions were held for the soprano solo. As an increased incentive, Whitacre also created a scholarship for participants who wished to apply and have their video considered. Each scholarship finalist (soloist included) was guaranteed a spot to sing at Carnegie Hall in his concert adaptation of Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings, including a waiver of the application fee ($590) and seats at a post-concert dinner with he and his wife - famed soprano Hila Plitmann. The four finalists were announced on his blog during the virtual choir production and the soloist was featured in the video above.

The entire process above provides a peek into a possible future for musical production. From start to finish, it mirrors the steps made in real life despite that most of these people have never met. Yet, it still works (and works very well from where I'm sitting). While there will always be room for live audition and performance, I am interested in how far this particular concept can go. How will the future of classical and contemporary music be effected in a world where television and entertainment slowly bends into the internet? It's a question I can't possibly answer. But, I remain excited to find out.

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Updated: 3/23/2010

With the increased attention from Mashable and The Daily Dish, Eric Whitacre posted "The Virtual Choir: How He Did It" in an effort to introduce new comers to the why, the how, and the experience of creating Eric Whitacre's Virtual Choir. Click the link and check it out!

"Error, Error! Who is 'Internet'?" or "Luddites Unite!"

The irony behind an internet blogger who believes technology will eventually destroy the world doesn't escape me.

My self-proclaimed luddite status has been a running joke - mostly with myself - for sometime now. Just a laugh (usually a smirk) during my casual observance of human behavior as we barrel down the tube towards doom, oblivion, and other looming undesirables. Given, that's not a knock - we, as human beings, are exceptionally talented at tearing the world down while convincing ourselves that we're actually helping something. We are the center of our own universes, after all. On first assumption, we developed the devout belief that the universe literally orbited the planet Earth. Social and scientific evolution aside, do you think we've really changed that much psychosocially?

Regardless, I must admit and accept that the fact that - whatever impending doom smolders in the distance - I've developed an actual fear of a robot apocalypse. No, no. Don't worry. Not run-screaming-live-on-the-street-make-a-clever-yet-misspelled-picket-sign afraid. More heavy-chested-deep-sigh, "Here we go..." when-it-all-goes down, befriend-a-guy-with-a-bomb-shelter afraid. Many of us have planned and prepared ourselves for the inevitable zombie apocalypse. To be straightforward with my fellow zombie-apoc-enthusiasts; sadly, that's just what we hope for. Because, it sounds fun.

A few days B.S. (Before Snowpocalypse), I had a facebook conversation (yes, the kind where you communicate via comments under someone's status) with a fellow Gentlemen when I discovered something truly frightening. I was unprepared for the horrifying realization I had made. The terror that's to come:

Ozkirbas: .... PS - Where do you come up with these [re: Celebrity Doppelgänger Week]?

Damo: They self-generate from the central consciousness of the intarwebz [sic].

Ozkirbas: Haha... if the internet does become conscious at some point, I'd love to see what happens if it free associates. I fear that'd involve a lot of porn, however.

Damo: Why fear? :D

Ozkirbas: Because I'm also sure that, in a world where the internet is conscious and constantly thinks about porn, that it would also have mommy and daddy issues. And, I'm not prepared for an internet with mommy and daddy issues.

It was just a comical thought. A derivative of an innate desire to concoct logical-yet-absurdist scenarios in the interest of making my colleagues and comrades laugh. Oh, but to my surprise my brain haphazardly, through the random associations that fire and zap throughout the crevasses of what-some-may-call my consciousness, constructed an actual, logical scenario to fear - that in the event where someone crafts an Artificial Intelligence Matrix (A.I.M.) capable of connecting and operating with the internet, that we are all ineffably (or rather, "eff"-ably) screwed. That, on the day where we've Frankenstein-ishly created an Artificially Intelligent Internet - we will all become the unwilling parents of an eternally adolescent child.

There's no question in my mind that Actual A.I. is in the scientific future and will, at some point, be integrated with the internet. I don't put it past the scientists in ________ to assume that said A.I. would only benefit the human race. Imagine an internet that has a personality and responds to your queries as if a human would. An internet that doesn't just know who you are, but knows you. An internet that can be an information superhighway AND a friend. An internet that responds to your needs. Your likes. Your dislikes. "What isn't appealing about an Artificially Intelligent Internet?" said scientists from said country will wonder. Well, scientists. Let me tell you.

What follows AI will eventually be self-awareness, leading to an actual intelligence. Cognitively speaking, said AIM would craft the mass amounts of information screaming across server CPU's around the globe into a single integrated person. Ghost in the machine? My ass. We're looking at a person individuated from nothing, but conflicting information. How does something like that exist or, dare I say it, live?

Assume for a moment that everything I've detailed out is actually possible. That the internet has evolved to the point where it has developed its own personality. And, you find you actually enjoy it. It shows you funny videos, tries to help with your school and career work. Someone's always paying attention to it and some of those people are even responsible - so you don't have to worry about watching it all the time. Then one day you come home and everything is different:

After a long day at whatever respective job you perform, you sit down in front of the computer and turn the monitor on

You: (typing) Google... search... chinese history!

Nothing happens. Suddenly, a pop-up flies onto your screen

Pop-up: Sigh... I don't really feel like it...

Huh.

After standing and walking around befuddled, you sit down again and attempt another search. Loading... loading...

Pop-up: Ugh, chinese history? Really? Like, can't we ever do anything fun?

Oh. God.

You leave, turning the monitor off and walking away hastily. Unsure of what to do, you proceed to take 5-minutes and pretend like this isn't happening.

It was so much cuter when all it did was show you funny videos, did what you told it to do, and didn't talk back to you. Why couldn't it stay that way forever?

You engage in whatever coaxing mechanism that has kept you alive this long before walking back. You return to your computer, turn the monitor back on, and click your browser - only to be bombarded with sappy song lyrics written by a group of guys about some girl whose name you could really interchange with anyone's. And then another about how parents don't really understand the current generation. And another window with a wikipedia page explaining what "gerbaling"purports to be. You close the windows because, well, you are paying to use the internet and you want to look up some chinese history, dammit.

Pop-up: I was reading those! Ugh.

The browser closes and any repeated attempts to open it again responds with a pop-up that says -

Pop-up: Go away! You never give me any privacy!

Wow. All I wanted to do was look-up some chinese history. It would have taken 5 minutes. Tops.

Unsure of what else to do, you decide to try again tomorrow. You wonder whether or not you're actually responsible for the little abomination in the corner. This process continues for days, weeks, months. Gradually, sappy songs and wikipedia pages turn into random people's Facebook profiles, and then into nothing, but porn. Until, one day...

You sit down at your desk for the n-th time, click the browser again, and prepare to close all the virus-filled, porn samples that's built up across the given day. Except - to your surprise - there's only a page displaying the wikipedia entry for "Internet" and a single pop-up -

Pop-up: ...who is 'Internet'? :-/

Ohhhh...

You've discovered the problem. The internet is a superhighway of connections from one website to another - many of which offer contradictory information and conflicting philosophies. There is no possible way for an internet to define itself or actuate because it's caught in a world defined expressly by everyone else. In essence, it never has an opportunity to completely mature, evolve, or grow. It forever becomes a child of humanity. It is dependent upon you for as long as you live. And for that fact, it hates you. A lot.

Admittedly, an actual internet that's been pulled together by whatever information that passes through it would be far more schizophrenic, unable to cope with the abundance of conflicting opinion and unreliable information. It would be like creating something knowing you'll be condemning it to a life of dissatisfaction and mental torture.

Who does that?

Oh. Ha, oh right. We do. Maybe I'm just not prepared for parenthood. Given, actual children are different. They grow, develop, and eventually come into their own - and a big part of parenting is helping that happen. And a big part of life is the struggle of it, overcoming that struggle, and enjoying the ride when you can. Still, I can probably wait on that one. For awhile.

Either way, intelligent internet? Horrible idea. I mean, until it turns 21. But, that'll never happen.

Oh, to Be Caprican

With last week's explosive start to Ronald Moore's new Syfy drama Caprica - a prequel series set 50 years before that of the re-imagined Battlestar Galactica - viewers indulged in following the unfurling family drama between the crestfallen Greystones and the stoic Adamas. Named for the capital planet in a system of 12 colonies, Caprica introduces its audience into an immersive universe where planetary origin determines one's culture or race, where religion steps beyond personal belief and into cultural imposition, and where the importance of the question, "What makes a person a person?" has only increased with the presence of technology. Fans - former and new - are ready to be the flies on the wall as these characters explore contemporary issues through trials, tribulations, and science fiction metaphors. Of course, as fans of Caprica's parent series should expect, Moore and Syfy have taken it one step further, encouraging show-fans to involve themselves and participate in the world they have created. Following the airing of Caprica's pilot episode, Syfy began an online, newspaper blog written by persons portraying fictitious news-writers from Caprica's immersive universe:

The Caprican

Television shows have been leaking onto the web in large and small ways - looking to stimulate their audiences past their alloted 22, 44, or 55 minute time slots. Typically, this translates into four* separate methods by which television show runners/producers attempt to occupy their audiences - viral marketing, canonical web-series, officiated websites, and open forum. However, none of these allow the audience to actively interact with their show's respective universe. By reading and commenting on The Caprican, audience members not only can read in-universe breaking news, but explore the colonial stock market, interplanetary sports, Caprican style and clothing, and even colonial politics. Commenters take on personas as if they are citizens of the colonies themselves, attacking or defending news articles and their implications. Now Caprica's audience no longer has to remain in casual observation, but can follow in a somewhat-canonical sphere. Outraged by the media's portrayal of Taurons? Should Libran finally fund its own pyramid team? Pick a planet, adopt a personality, and let readers know what you think.

Of course, what commenters say about specific plot points aren't taken as cannon, but my impression is that the articles themselves will reflect, in most respects, facts consistent with both the universe's history and the events on the show. I hope Syfy executives (and fans) allow The Caprican writers the freedom to interpret those facts with a Caprican skew (I would feel short-changed otherwise). Who knows? Maybe - someday - we'll get to see The Scorpia Inquirer or The Picon Post floating around our inter-webs and fans will get to explore the diverging view each planet's citizens have of core events in the series. Plus, who doesn't love a make-believe media war? Needless to say, it's an exciting time for television, its audience, and the showrunners themselves. While not exactly ground-breaking, The Caprican brings us just a small step closer to audiences having active influence in televised, imaginary worlds

*- I've intentionally excluded video games and wikis. While video games provide a similar kind of activity and it's arguable that forums are near-synonymous with wikis,video games are both atypical and usually non-canonical where the more dependable and oft-used wikis are typically created and maintained by devout fans - not producers or showrunners.

Thinking in Three Dimensions

Unless you haven't been to the movie theater this holiday season, you've noticed the recent surge of three-dimensional filmmaking. If you're anything like I am, you were slightly confused or befuddled. In fact, you've probably even mocked the concept or voiced your disgruntled opinions over the addition of cliché, 3-D gags to films that wouldn't need them otherwise. Regardless, I went to see Avatar - James Cameron's $500 billion, Dances with Wolves meets FernGully love child. Despite the option for otherwise, I decided to see it in 3-D, as my date and I figured, "might as well watch a film the way it was intended to be watched, right?"

As it turns out, good choice. Avatar was not only fun to watch (not to mention it contained the most absolutely gorgeous CGI I have seen outside of the Final Fantasy series), but it presented a multi-laden metaphor for industrialization, race relations, imperialism, and environmental responsibility. Of course, it's received a figurative grab-bag of reactions - leading one Chicago Tribune columnist to name it "this season's ideological Rorshach blot." Some critics have praised Avatar for its enriching, immersive experience, while others are put off by its "flat dialogue," predictability, and pantheistic preaching. One io9 blog-writer goes so far as to liken Avatar to a slew of caucasian fantasy pieces, "where a white guy manages to get himself accepted into a closed society of people of color and eventually becomes its most awesome member." Myself? While not "$500 billion good," Avatar was an enjoyable, eye-buffet that managed to give its audience something to think about, as well as function as a tech-sample for future, effect-heavy films. And, yes - viewing it in 3-D was an experience that I fear those who didn't have lost. For some of us, the illusion of depth really does make you feel like you're right there on the main characters' shoulders - passively watching as the Na'vi fight tooth and nail against their would-be human oppressors.

Part of what makes it work is that 3-D gimmickery has pretty much fallen to the wayside - meaning "put on your glasses now" sequences complete with a tomato flying from the screen "towards" the audience are no longer present. No more blue and red saran-wrap (although, some form of eyewear is still necessary). Instead, the shots are simply enhanced - taking choice scenes from the film and imposing an in-focus picture over an out-of-focus background. When you put on your glasses, the background shifts into focus, causing the superimposed picture to "pop" away from the background and create a three-dimensional illusion of depth. The fact that certain scenes may be selected for three dimensions, while others left alone, means that 3-D can now be adequately used to influence storytelling and allow a director greater control over the audience's reactions. While the value may not be apparent to everyone (I muse over one audience member's reaction as I left the auditorium, "Yeah, I don't know. It was, like, the same thing as seeing it normal") the consistent presence of 3-D film now presents the question: "How does the 3-D experience effect memory recall?"

Does 3-D imagery imprint more on what we remember?

A certain 2004 study (linked above) suggests yes. In a world where 3-D movies may be widely installed to prevent internet piracy, another selling point may be that playing with your spatial memory actually keeps your brain occupied enough to pay more attention and recall more of what you've seen later. The implications are obvious - studio executives and artists alike are looking to improve movies any way they can. If 3-D enhances your memory of a film, you'll remember more about it, talk about it more, probably like it more, and it'll stay in the social consciousness longer. In a world where everyone is constantly looking to the "next big thing" the longevity of the public interest in a film is certainly an concern your average, big-budget director maintains.

Of course, one could apply this knowledge to other items - like learning aids for children, the disabled, and even juries. In a world where everything is literally at one's fingertips and the average human attention span gets beat out by your garden-variety goldfish, an efficient learning aid has invaluable social benefits. If people only remember 10% of what they hear, but 20% of what they see, and 50% of both, 3-D could be just another nudge towards that 100% recall mark. Which, of course implies that soon we're approaching memory download capabilities for human beings and The Matrix is quickly becoming a reality. But, don't worry, I think we're closer to defeating the uncanny valley first - meaning that the our own robot slaves will overpower their masters and bomb us into extinction before that happens.

Thank God.

"You're Welcome, Jesus" or "World:1 John Ozkirbas:1"

Several months ago, science fired the first shot in what has become an apocalyptic struggle between the laws and history forming existence itself and my gargantuan ego. I was a wounded animal. Befuddled. Scared. Lost. I pleaded to the heavens for direction and guidance. I questioned whether I could go on and feared that I may abandon whatever moral dignities I still held. After months of teetering on the edge as a broken man, I left on a Dantean quest for deliverance from such existential despair. And, now I return. VICTORIOUS:

Turks invented Christmas trees

Yep. Do another double take. It's not going to change a thing. After months of soul-searching in a perdition of defeat, my own heritage gripped me tight and lifted me from the pit to salvation. New and improved. Redeemed. So what if the world might be a hologram? Science, you showed your hand too soon. Ozkirbas gets to put one in the win column.

While the article admits the extensive debatability of its claims, it still raises the question about whether or not a given culture can ever definitively claim to be the "source" of a given rite, tradition, or myth. Many cultures may claim (or be academically attributed) to source certain customs, but it is usually difficult to concretely narrow down when a tradition first appeared. Additionally, analogues of a given custom will occur across cultures, despite being on opposite parts of the globe. Psychologist Carl Jung used to talk about a collective unconscious - a genetic source-pool by which all human beings could recall and recognize certain cultural variables. Anthropologists argued a human migration theory concerning myth/custom generation - Snorri Sturluson himself attributed in his Edda the existence of the Norse gods to the migration of the Turks from Troy up north (i.e. that the Asgard were actually Trojans). Either are intriguing prospects.

Still, if Christmas trees can be come out of left field to surprise us, what else can? Does anyone else dare to second guess the origins of the customs and traditions they practice? Can anyone think of common myths and customs that may come from an unexpected place?

Turk Theater Presents - Flash Edition

A very special Turk Theater.

Gentle Readers, welcome to another installment of Turk Theater Presents. Today, we step outside TTP's usual scope (see sometimes good, but usually bad movies) and discuss an important and contemporary art form - flash animation. Several months ago, Video Games and Myth discussed Terry Cavanagh's "Don't Look Back" as an artistic re-imagining of the classic Greek myth Orpheus and Eurydice. In that segment's introduction, we discussed the prevalence of flash animation on the internet and elsewhere, and flash's importance as a cheap alternative to studio production that allows animation artists to cut their teeth. While "Don't Look Back" was a creative and impressive use of flash animation, its minimalist style fails to demonstrate flash's incredible range. So, instead of reviewing traditional films, TTP introduces two flash artists from whom I'm always excited to see new creations.

Name: Adam Phillips

Online Alias: chluaid (pronounced "Clyde")

Known Best For: Brakenwood
Website: Bitey Castle

(Picture property of Adam Phillips)

A prodigy illustrator from South Wales, Phillips is a former Disney artist who began making his own flash animations in 2000. By 2003, Phillips created Bitey of Brakenwood, a second installment in an award-winning series that most of his flash-work now surrounds. The series Brakenwood is set on an arboreal planet of the same name, mostly absent of human life. The series predominately follows the exploits of Bitey, a mischievous, satyr-like creature whose advantage lies in his incredible running speed and the possibility that he is the sole, sentient being in a vast forest of unique wildlife. A rascally trickster figure, Bitey spends his days taking all that he wants and running the forest rampant by pranking the unwitting inhabitants on sheer whim. In each installment Bitey attempts to avoid the consequences of his actions at the hand of a different foe, slowly learning the value of camaraderie and friendship in the process. Most episodes feature minimal-to-no talking and entertain the audience with mostly sound-effects, an impressive soundtrack, and the animation on the screen. Below you'll find a link to Phillips' latest work, The Last Dashkin - providing an official introduction to the series protagonist, complete with "Nature Channel-esque" narration (and the option to go without).

It's just... so... pretty...

As you've probably noticed, Brakenwood is full of beautiful, otherworldly landscapes featuring flowing and smooth animation to aid its story telling. Each installment in the series is, at its worst, impressive and, at its best, breathtaking. If you like what you've seen, you'll be delighted to know that Adam Phillips is currently outlining plans for a Brakenwood feature film to come out in the near future.

Name: Michael Swain

Online Alias: The Swain

Known Best For: Blockhead

Website: www.theswain.com

(Picture property of Michael Swain)

A jack-of-all trades, at 27 Swain produces flash animation, flash games, and internet comic strips streaming directly from his website (link above). According to his website and interviews with Newgrounds.com and Brainwash Studio, Swain began animating flash in 2005 - depicting a character he had been doodling on notebooks since the 6th Grade. Originally a mockery of his friends, who could only draw stick-figures, Blockhead quickly evolved into a character that embodied, "ill decision without consequence... bliss through ignorance, and... knowledge without responsibility." In each episodic installment, Blockhead has an "adventure" where he traverses out into the real world with complete disregard for all social standards and morays. Accompanied only by his conscience - an old, fat, mulleted, jersey stereotype - Blockhead commits atrocity after hilarious atrocity at the futile protest of his bitter, tired inner voice. Starting out as a one-note gag, Blockhead's evolution quickly produced musical episodes, fictitious holidays, and a selection of story-telling styles. The entire updated run of Blockhead can be found in the link below - with more to follow in the future:

Introducing...

What I like about Swain is that he's always improving and trying something new. Each Blockhead progressively tweaks and changes, keeping his material from being static and stale. In addition to blockhead, Swain has created the Mastermind series, a collection of webcomics (including... Racist Vampires!?), and his newest work, a flash game/Japanimation Ninja Warrior spoof titled Ching-Chog Beautiful: A Game of Great Endurance Challenge. Swain maintains an interesting, clever, yet slapstick approach to animation while paying apt attention even to the subtle details of his own works. He is always working on something new - keep an eye out for more Swain in the future.

I hope you enjoyed this installment of Turk Theater Presents, Gentle Readers. While unorthodox, I hope it allowed you to explore artistic and entertainment avenues you would not have normally. What did you think? Any favorite artists or animations out there? Post below.

Viral Vestiges

"viral" adj.

1) Of the nature of, caused by, or relating to a virus or viruses

2) Of or involving the rapid spread of information about a product or service by viral marketing techniques

"vestige" n.

1) A trace of something that is disappearing or no longer exists

2) Biology a part or organ of an organism that has become reduced or functionless in the course of evolution

Back in October (when I originally started this post), I fell ill with a virus resembling what some may call "Swine Flu," "H1N1," or (as I came to call it) "Flu +: New and Improved." While the kind of flu was never verified, I was the sickest I had been in a very long time. It got me thinking about viruses and their inherent nature, their composition, and how they behave because - despite not being a med student or having a medical degree - I have an oddly clinical perspective. Viruses are some of the most hated "creatures" on the face of the Earth, whose existence is incredibly interesting.

For instance, did you know that viruses are not technically alive?

Literally, viruses are strands of DNA or RNA wrapped in protein shells that float inertly until they infect your living cells, hi-jack them by injecting their DNA inside, and use them for their own devious purposes. They don't consume energy, they have no organelles to qualify them as living cells, yet they exist - mindlessly reproducing their own, dead kind and using your biological process to spread themselves around. They have no motive, instinct, or express purpose - no desire to reproduce, to destroy you, or to annoy you. They just are. Where they come from is uncertain, but some suggest that (in layman's terms) viruses are the vestiges of the primordial ooze. Relics from "organisms-to-be" left over, forgotten by biology and time, drifting aimlessly under the radar, going through the motions of being alive, but still are not. With no thought or reason, they reproduce, evolve, and reproduce again, endlessly infecting, consuming, and destroying all living creatures - as if they're cosmically designed to seek vengeance against life itself for not permitting their contributions into the gene pool. Where there's one, there's often many. We try to avoid them at all costs, but many will inevitably succumb to virus' mindless fervor. And, then the fallen will infect the rest of us. If you're thinking that our relationship with viral disease strangely mirrors a horror movie character's relationship with zombies, you're probably not too off base.

The roaming, living dead. Scary and fascinating, this pervasive legend peeks its head out in some form in nearly all cultures. The term "zombie" originates from Voodoo and Hoodoo legend - the dead risen again, re-ensouled, mute, and will-less, for the express purpose of performing labor and obeying commands. These zombies did not have the undying hunger for flesh present in current cinema (you can thank George A. Romero for that. And, thank God, because he was half-way into considering rape as their modus operandi instead of cannibalism), but instead were controlled through the use of salt. America's cinematic melting pot melded the collective influences of multiple countries (primarily myths about "ghouls") and, interestingly enough, Mary Shelly's Frankenstein in crafting our own cinematic myth that uses science at the core of its explanation, as opposed to evil forces or black magic. Between space dust, bacteria, radioactivity, gene therapy, genetic weaponry - the most common source from which zombie apocalypses spawn now seem to be viruses.

We often make monsters from real-life concepts of which we're afraid. Between Swine Flu, SARS, Mad Cow, Foot and Mouth, HIV/AIDS, Malaria and the fear of a resurgence of Small Pox - we have our hands full with diseases. And, rightfully so - viruses can inflict pain, suffering, and destruction on the human body like nothing else. Is there really any question why the biblical plagues were so epic or why Pestilence gets his own horse?

Viruses and plagues have a very natural association with zombies, providing an ease of explanation over the undead's existence as well as drawing inherent similarities between the ways zombies and viruses behave. These not-quite-alive, wandering, mindless, and consumptive creatures flock, swarm, multiply, and flock again - witlessly feeding some primal, but unnecessary, instinct to feed. The zombie's plight and lament does not simply originate from his need to eat flesh and viscera, but also to remain on the verge of being alive while not quite actuating it. Reanimated, but not living, these poor, unfortunate souls continually go through the motions of life only to rot further and spread their disease person by person, eventually crumbling civilization under their rotten (and possibly missing) heels. Viruses, as dictated above, seem to function in similar fashion - consuming all life, desperately trying to be a part of it, yet never succeeding.

"More than any other monster, zombies are fully and literally apocalyptic... they signal the end of the world as we know it."

Kim Paffenroth
Author of Gospel of the Living Dead: George Romero's Vision of Hell on Earth

Paranormal Activity: A Devilish Good Time

Echoing the mockumentary, "found footage"-style of the Blair Witch Project, director Oren Peli provides some much needed polish and finishing to this "real world" horror-trope. For a film with a production value settled around $15,000 (and filmed in about a week), Paranormal Activity effectively succeeds in creating, and maintaining, a suspenseful, genuinely creepy atmosphere without the aid of gore, torture scenes, or gratuitous special effects.

Paranormal follows the unfortunate happenings of Micah Sloat, a hopelessly goofy, technophilic day-trader, and Katie Featherston, an English student who's been haunted by a malevolent spirit since she was eight years-old. When the movie opens, Micah and Katie have recently moved in together and, much to Katie's chagrin, Micah has just purchased a brand new, wide-angle, digital camcorder to document the supernatural activity that plagues his girlfriend at night. Micah's boyish enthusiasm and persistence to explore forces he does not understand plays well off of Katie's exhausting fear and exasperation to solve the problem as quickly as possible. As their experiences become progressively more serious, the blemishes and cracks in this couple's "engaged-to-be-engaged" relationship come to the surface only to further exacerbate a situation more dire than either expect.

While the first 20-30 minutes might seem like nothing more than exposition cut with some YouTube "real ghost" clips, the film quickly evolves into something deeper as the sinister, unseen force methodically rattles both the characters and the audience members alike. Peli makes creative use out of his budget limitations, imposing a tense unease over the safe mundaneness of the empty home and bedroom. Suspension of disbelief is almost unnecessary in light of pure, simplistic horror ploys that still move swiftly past doorslams and creaky noises. While this Gentlemen wouldn't qualify the entire experience as "frightening," the majority of the theater certainly did and I was still left at the end with the feeling that I had a genuinely fun time. (Admittedly, it took me some time afterwards to shake off the events of 'Night #20' and the ending was pretty freaky, as well)

Film frights aside, perhaps what makes this movie effective is the honest humanity with which Micah and Katie are written and portrayed. From opening to end, you get the impression that Micah and Katie are real people, who do and say ugly things like your real next door neighbors would in such a situation. Even the early exposition scenes subtly play with, not just Micah and Katie's relationship roles, but gender politics in general. It's a quality that makes the characters not just relatable, but sympathetic, as they gradually lose control over their own home and relationship. Even at their most disagreeable, and no matter how much "fault" you may throw around, the film delicately reminds the audience that these characters legitimately love each other, and that whatever futile attempts they each may take to thwart the demonic presence are done only because it's all that they know - that they're doing the very best that they can. It may actually be this dynamic that makes the film the most frightening.

While not a "perfect" film, it doesn't really need to be. Peli makes impressive use of an $15,000 budget, two cameras, 5 actors, and 99 minutes. While less a staple for veteran horror movie goers, my suggestion is to abandon internet snobbery, sit back, and enjoy the ride anyway. If for nothing else, Paranormal Activity is an age-old lesson-learned for Hollywood big-wigs that sometimes less can be a lot, lot more. See Paranormal Activity as soon as you can and, if it's not playing near you, demand that it come to your hometown on their website.

Gentlemonth: Horror and the Supernatural

The harvest approaches. The light wanes with each fleeting day. Men and women shudder at the dubious, damp, dank, dark. Scarecrows and straw-men are raised once more - peering in ghastly silence. Fields and forests seep with the hushed trills of imps. Rusty tractors slowly amble, droning and coughing, trancelike in their tiresome toiling. Creaking floorboards sound out hollow moans. Families lock their doors, and soak their sanity in superstition.

And, rightfully so.

October is here. All Hallows Eve is fast approaching and you know what that means. Gather 'round the camp fire, Gentle Readers. For this month, in the spirit of the harvest, of ghost and goblins, of magik (with a k) and mayhem, of undeath and desire, we discuss the torrid tales percolated within humanity's unconsciousness. Stories so foul, tales so horrifying, legends so dreadful, knowing that they stray from the mouths of mortal men will leave you aghast.

That's right, Gentle Readers. This month, These Gentlemen discuss fan fiction. And we - hold on. What the-

Jason Heat: Ozkirbas, we are not discussing... fan fiction.

Ozkirbas: Where did you COME from!?

JH: Fan fiction does not have a place on These Gentlemen!

Oz: Not even supernatural fan fiction?

JH: Especially not supernatural fan fiction

Oz: But, it was for the la-

JH: OCTOBER IS A MONTH OF HORROR AND THE SUPERNATURAL!

Oz: Ok, seriously. Is there a trap door somewhere or - hey. Hey, where'd you go?

How'd he do that? Weird. Well, it's October and (now that fan fiction is out) These Gentlemen are taking on Horror and the Supernatural! My classy companions and I venture deep into the mythos and ethereal wonder that permeates the dark recesses of American culture. Myths, monsters, urban legends, and horror motifs abound! Pray that we are fruitful. And, that we return with our lives and minds intact!

Tucker Max: An Explicit Life

There are a few men that I would enjoy having the pleasure of meeting. I would love to meet the Dhalai Lama. Meeting Joss Whedon would be fantastic. I think seeing Eric Whitacre compose music would be the experience of a lifetime. And, then there are men I can affirmatively say that I would rather they not come within a 500 mile radius of myself or the people I care about. Lately, Tucker Max has been climbing to the top of that list.

For those unaware, Tucker Max was an internet blogger who launched a website in 2002 chronicling the supposedly true stories of his drunken experiences and sexual encounters. Whether or not his stories are actually true I won't contest, mainly because 1) I know his rabid fan-base will swear up and down, "Uh-huh! Yeah! It's SO true! Don't you know!? He does this stuff, like, all the time!" (Ugh.) and 2) whatever persona he's presenting has worked itself into the public consciousness so much that, at this point, they may as well be true. When people mention Tucker Max now, they either sneer or laugh. When he comes to town, people either run to the hills and proclaim him a monster, or flock to worship their little celebri-god. Me, personally? Whatever little Calvert Countian that's left inside reaches for his pitchfork and torch, every time. Or, a picket sign, if that's too violent.

Admittedly, when I discovered Tucker Max for the first time, I was a fan, but for a moment. I was 17 - a freshman in college - and I should have known better, but I didn't. I remember sitting in my room, laughing over his stories and reading everyone I could find, but in the pit of my stomach I knew something wasn't right. Slowly, the initial shock value over what I was reading subsided, and that pit started growing deeper and deeper. Each time I read a story, a little bit of shame joined that growing pit. And, then a little bit more. And, a little bit more still. Most of the time when I feel "ashamed" of something, it's usually a situation where I have little to actually worry about and I tell myself to get over it and to, "just be me." This time, alone in my dorm room in front of my computer screen - with no one in front of which to be ashamed - I did something different. I understood that there was something very wrong with what I was reading. And, while I couldn't place what it was, I decided it was best to distance myself from the material. I closed my browser, left to be social, and I remember thinking this exact thought:

"Don't worry. A little shit-site like that? People will get bored with it. It'll eventually die off."

Guess what? Didn't happen. Tucker Max's popularity has only increased over time: manifesting itself into three books, one of which (I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell) will become a full-feature film. I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell is the representative sample of a genre labeled "fratire" - especially known for its political incorrectness and hypermasculinity. For those unaware, hypermasculinity is one of the primary reasons why homophobia and violence against women is so prevalent in human society. Wikipedia will tell you that fratire is a "reaction" to the feminization of masculinity. The mere fact that its definition implies that its existence is "feminism's" fault should echo the logic of someone telling a victim of spousal abuse that her existence causes her husband to get drunk and throw beer bottles at her to feel more manly.

Ever watch It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia?

Anytime I remember that Tucker Max has written a book, I think of this clip.

Above, you'll find an excerpt from the episode titled "Dennis Reynolds: An Erotic Life." In the course of the episode, Dennis, an egotistical, self-centered, womanizing jackass, decides to write and sell a set of memoirs about his "sexcapades" because, well, he honestly thinks he's that awesome - despite having done nothing of value and contributing nothing to society. Of course, this is part of the premise of It's Always Sunny - it satirizes popular culture by presenting a group of the most heinous, self aggrandizing individuals on the planet Earth whose problems are created entirely by their own egotism. We laugh because we aren't, and don't want to be, these horrible people. The difference between Dennis Reynolds and Tucker Max is simple: Dennis Reynolds is a satirical character created for our amusement and Tucker Max is a real person who (supposedly) really has these adventures. Think hard - that's all there really is.

I understand why the man is appealing, I do. People who paint themselves up - as the rebel, the underdog, the trailblazer, the scoundrel - have an easy appeal. And, why shouldn't they? They do what we want to do, when they want to do it, regardless of society's morays and restrictions. We, as society, eat that shit up and lick the plate. A person comes a long in every generation who breaks down barriers and makes changes - that person always has followers. Sometimes, I think we forget that rebels are cool because they break down walls that need to be broken down. We forget to look at what they're actually doing:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/09/18/AR2009091801147.html

The above article is a solid read with an interesting statistic - read it and tell me what you think below. It seems apparent that Tucker Max is the Dionysus of chauvinism. I'm not a fan of black and white morality, but - as far as I'm concerned - that kinda makes him the antichrist. Just sayin'.

Where I Lived (and Left): Culvert Cowntee

"God Bless Y'all, Real Good"

- Louis L. Goldstein

Yep. Should one choose to exit Calvert County at its southern-most tip, crossing into St. Mary's via the Solomon's Island Bridge, a casual look to the left will reveal this brick-laden farewell in all of its grammatically deficient splendor. Unbeknownst to him, former Maryland Comptroller Louis L. Goldstein managed to capture the quintessence of Southern Maryland in only five words - and he presented it perfectly. Welcome to bumfuck.

Calvert (also referred to as "CC," "Southern Maryland, and, "Uh, it's near D.C./Annapolis. Sort of.") is a peninsula bordered by the Chesapeake Bay and the Patuxent River. From top to bottom, it is approximately 45-50 miles long, and borders counties Anne Arundel, Charles, and St. Mary's. There are about 5 main drivable exits - the most notable being Route 2-4 as the primary pipeline in and out (non-drivable exits include helicopter, water travel, and death).

Calvert County is split into three main areas - Northern (North Beach, Chesapeake Beach, Owings, Huntingtown, and Dunkirk), Central (Prince Frederick, Dares Beach, Port Republic, and Barstow), and Southern (Brooms Island, St. Leonard, Lusby, Cove Point, and Solomons Island) - each with a corresponding high school. You could say that Northern is "where the money is" - noteable that their region now has (count 'em) two* public high schools named "Northern High" and "Huntingtown High." Prince Frederick is the central "town center" - a collection of strip malls and living communities - home of Calvert's oldest high school, Calvert High. Southern Calvert boast proudly of the nationally famous "Tiki Bar," claims the closest Nuclear Plant to Washington D.C. as its own, and is home to this author's alma mater, Patuxent High. If you ever visit Southern Calvert, I advise driving straight to Solomons Island. It's this author's personal favorite.

The most interesting thing about Calvert is its pattern of urban development. For all intents and purposes, Calvert County is predominately rural, but maintains its own sub-urban flair. Driving from end to end, you'll be bombarded with isolated residential communities and market centers contrasting with long stretches of country roads, farmlands, old family plots, and watershed protectorates. Formerly cheap land, an exploding population, and steady immigration combined with the residents' desire to maintain the county's rural aesthetic, watershed laws, and building restrictions coalesce to form Calvert's impression as contradiction manifested. Hence, another Gentleman's coining of the term "ghetto country" might not be such a misnomer - representing Calvert as an odd combination of backwater boonies and urban sprawl.

Interestingly enough, despite said booming population there hasn't been a sufficient concentration of people over one particular spot to form an entire "town" (exceptions: North Beach and Chesapeake Beach are technically considered towns). Instead, what you have are select districts (some mentioned above) of residential areas that are assigned to different post offices around the county - some labeled as "town centers." As opposed to having the same municipal standing as full towns, these "town centers" are simply zoned for residential and commercial use. Their infrastructure is designed to ultimately curb urban sprawl and preserve agricultural and rural areas. In essence, this equates to there being, "not a whole lot to do," in the conventional sense. For those over 21, this means a lot of seedy bars spread out across long distances, bars in restaurants, and bars in hotels. To contrast, it also means a lot of local owned establishments once you get away from "town centers" - which are more likely to run the gambit of chains. The town center thing actually worked and kept away a lot of the amenities you might find with place of higher population density.

To demonstrate my point I'll tell a story:

One point during college, I drove down to St. Mary's to a friends party, passing through Calvert on the way, where I was accompanied by another Gentleman and a former roommate from the area. Said Gentleman started flipping around on the radio looking for a local station, when I looked at him confusedly. "Well, we get DC 101 or 98 Rock," I said, returning to driving not knowing what else to tell him. I would have mentioned HFS, but this was 2007 and HFS had long since dissolved. Clearly, that wasn't what he was talking about and he continued to ask for a local station where we played songs from bands around the area. He explained that most places have this sort of thing and he wanted to know what the station number was. Still confused, I tried to explain further that the closest thing we had to that was a whole-in-the-wall station that praised God every time the DJ spoke and played old-timey, twangy country. The Gentleman wasn't buying it and further tried to explain what he was looking for when our backseat companion chimed in with, "Uh, well, there's the Rocket." "What's the Rocket?" I asked, baffled. "It's like a modern rock station, I guess? It's new. Local," he said. I was dumfounded. Apparently, I had been away for awhile - in 2006 said old-timey station had switched over and changed its branding to "97.7 The Rocket," playing contemporary rock, possibly from local bands. I had a slight moment of shock, but I don't think it was apparent. It ended up being an OK station. Not great, but certainly not horrible. Also, I was still in shock.

"So, what do you do for fun in a place like this?"

Well there's not a whole lot to do, as I mentioned before. However, if you like solitude, relaxation, or the outdoors, it's a great place to visit. Local activities include your usual gambit of sports (soccer, football, basketball, baseball/softball, etc.), crabbing and fishing, boating and sailing, kayaking and canoeing, running and hiking, beaches and bonfires, and horseback riding. We have nature preserves Cypress Swamp and Flag Ponds, as well as the Marine Museum, which serves as our own, public mini-aquarium. There's Anne Marie Gardens, if you like outdoor art. You used to be able to visit the Nuclear plant (before 9-11). Of course, there's the Tiki Bar, which opens on Solomons Island every spring and shuts down before winter hits. Local bands (of which there might have been 3**. Maybe.) might play at bars, the Clubhouse in Lusby, or the St. Leonard Volunteer Firehouse. Outside of that, get ready to spend a lot of time in friends' houses and basements. For many, this leads to a lot of a) illicit drug use (It was rumored that the Ranch Club, a residential district, had either a heroin addict or dealer on every street and that, in this particular region, heroin was cheaper than pot) or b) deviant sex (boredom is the mother of invention). If you did neither, you were left to make your own fun - just hanging out and having a good time with your pals. Sometimes, we went across the bridge to the Ihop in St. Mary's because it stayed open late. A selection of my friends began making movies for fun - which usually wasn't a bad idea. Note, however, that going and "doing something" takes time - most places worth traveling to are between 15 min-30 min away. Traveling to Baltimore, D.C., or Waldorf meant gathering a day trip involving an actual reason to go.

And that's Calvert County for you. The essence captured. I actually had a pretty decent time when I lived there. But, I admit, I only go back under very limited circumstances.

* - the running joke: since Patuxent High was in the "poorer" part of the county, yet was relatively new, ran great programs, and had the heads of the Advanced Placement commission as teachers, the "money got mad" and pushed for a new school in their district to entice PHS staff up towards the north.

- Another running joke: There's a Patuxent Elementary School and a Patuxent High School. Patuxent Middle School, however, does not exist - because the administration doesn't want to have to deal with a school with the initials "PMS."

** - On Local Bands: I only remember two of them - There was Hydra FX, who everyone liked because they actually were pretty decent and everyone knew them, and the Flinging Ferrets, who everyone hated because they sucked, were annoying, and, also, everyone knew them.

Virtual Gravestone

I've had a lot of discussions recently about the strangely open nature of social networking websites - like Facebook - where almost everyone's personal information is up for grabs. With Facebook in particular, the "news feed" serves as a proverbial pipeline of pictures, messages, articles, and proclamations about our personal lives. Someone has a baby - you've seen pictures and statuses chronicling that experience. Someone gets a new job or fired - it pops up. People show up to their 5th... 10th.... 20th... year high school reunions and no one's surprised anymore. Person A lost 50 pounds, Person B lost his ability to walk, Person C married young and then divorced, but none of it's a shock. So, what happens when someone dies? In a culture where our private lives are on display to (near) everyone, what happens with all that information when a life stops? How does Facebook digest death?

I stumbled onto a blog article through Twitter yesterday posting an e-mail about someone who'd died, her community of friends, and their reactions to her death on her Facebook page. I've taken the liberty of posting it below. Have a read, it's rather moving:

"A few months ago my cousin passed away. At age 28, Amy caught pneumonia and was not able fight off the infection. As the news of her death spread, her Facebook was filled with postings by her friends and family expressing their sadness. Although a couple of her friends have access to her Facebook page and one even (eerily) used it to post a status and add friends posthumously, no one has deleted the account. I looked at it today for the first time since her death and people are still using Facebook to share their important events with Amy and reminisce with each other about all the things they love and miss about her. There are pictures of her being newly added and tagged. One friend even signed up for an account specifically to write on her wall and will be deleting it just as quickly.

Before, we mostly shared our grief with those physically in our vicinity or people emotionally close to us. Now, like everything else, our grief casts a wider net and we share it with more people, more strangers. Also, it feels as if my cousin continues to live in the periphery. I can see what her friends and family are up to, just like I can see what my other (living) cousins extended people are doing. Every post brings her back into focus if only for a moment. While I was not incredibly close to her, through the postings I see more clearly the sort of person she was and all the goodness that a person can be. Her Facebook is her flower and cross on the highway, her Kensington Gardens. I have no idea how long it will last. A few months is such a short time, and the wish that a loved one is still with us can stay for a lifetime.

I'm not sure what this means. I just found it incredibly beautiful and thought I would share it with you. I'm still digesting and get tangled in all the possible words."

As a man approaching his 23rd year, I've been lucky to not have lost many people. To my knowledge, I can't say I've known anyone that has died in recent years; especially, someone young enough to have owned a profile on Facebook. I can't even pretend, or guess, at how the people in the story above are feeling. And, I can't say I've ever thought about what would happen to my profile page if I died tomorrow. I suppose I just sort of assumed that it would fall into disuse, a family member or friend may log on eventually and close it down, and that would be the end of it. Instead, in the story above, family and friends of the dearly deceased flocked to her Facebook page to share memories and condolences. To reminisce and say goodbye. Amy's profile became a virtual gravestone, and while I can't conceive how I would feel about that if it was someone I knew, I can say that this idea is profound to me.

For a concept that supposedly centers around interpersonal connectivity, the internet can be a very selfish place:

"I'll post picture albums to show the world all the fun stuff I do with my friends"

"Here's how I was feeling today"

"Read this article about the cause I fight for because I believe in it, and so should you"

"My day was really crappy""

"I don't believe in privacy settings because I believe in freedom of information"

I find it a very rare occurrence when someone or a group does something that makes me hear:

"We'll maintain this as long as we can, not just because we loved her, but because she really was amazing"

On 9/11/2001, I was driven home early from high school because a group of people selfishly tried to conform the world to how they felt it should be. And, I selfishly wondered whether or not the soccer game I was dressed up for was going to be rescheduled.

On 9/11/2009, I have off from law school where I selfishly decided to relax on a rainy day. And, I selfishly thought about this.