I was a bit fed up when I fired off that last blurb, so I didn't think of it at the time, but its original premise--the Internet has made us into retards who can not communicate a point without sounding like we're commenting on YouTube--was what an old teacher of mine would've called a "vague generalization". I never specified who exactly I was talking about. I sounded like I was talking about a large number of people and that I'd witnessed this phenomenon a lot IRL, but really, the only people whom I've ever heard speak this way are members of my own family. So yeah, my own argument is, therefore, BS.
Now, before I go on, I'd like to make clear that the Internet is the most useful and easiest way to spread information there is. It has made it so that there's no such thing as not being able to find or spread information. The Internet gave birth to many wonderful applications. Yay.
But with these positive applications have also come frivolous applications. I guess that's just natural, but still--it's destroying our brains. People my own age, being the first generation raised by the Internet, are exhibiting some disturbing symptoms of--something. I might've been swinging off on a tangent last time, but it sparked a few ideas for me about what I think the Internet is doing to us on the inside. Will vaguely generalize on this a little more later.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Paintings of Websites
The difference between the way an argument ought to be held and the way it typically is held (in these days of trolls and idiots) is very much akin to the difference between the way we view a painting and the way we view a website.
When you’re looking at a painting in museum, especially a huge one with a lot of details, there’s often a central focus point in the image. Even though there are small interesting bits scattered throughout, and you spend time noticing each of them, the painter really wants you to study that central object. And, of course, because nothing exists in a vacuum, the painter wants you to synthesize the central object and peripheral objects into one whole image, because duh, that’s what it is. Now, imagine that the argument you hear is that painting. The argument is itself a whole, meant to be synthesized as such. But also, you should recognize which item in the argument is the central point and which ones are simply details. If you confuse a peripheral detail with the main argument, no matter how brilliant you think your rebuttal is—and most people consider their arguments to be at their peak when replete with prepositional phrases and passive voice—you haven’t rebutted the argument. Sir, you fail. Go home, take a shit, and go to bed.
Now, consider the way you look at a website. We all know—we’ve heard the sound bytes—that ever since the Internet was created and its use became popular, web browsing has decreased our average attention span (even more than TV has). When we’re browsing the Internet, we don’t typically examine a webpage and identify a prominent theme and its extremities; we don’t try to differentiate between the two. Rather, we scan the site and our eyes roll over everything, seeing nothing, until one random thing grabs our attention. From there, we click. From there, we click. From there, we click. We keep clicking, until we’ve come so far from where we started that we forget how we got there. We havne't synthesized the website’s purpose, but a truckload of moshed-together webshite that has nothing to do with what we were originally searching for. This is how so many people argue. We hear something and, already having in our heads that we’re going to refute it (this behavior is most prevalent in people who think they’re smart), we don’t listen to what we hear and we miss the main point. Rather, we hinge on an extremity that has little or nothing to do with the main argument, make that our own central argument, and tell ourselves we’ve refuted our interlocutor. Really, all we've done is run our fucking mouth.
And… I am out of steam. I'm not going to proofread that (*GASP*). I’m not 100% positive “interlocutor” means what I think it means. I need to sleep. Will probably rant more within the next few days.
When you’re looking at a painting in museum, especially a huge one with a lot of details, there’s often a central focus point in the image. Even though there are small interesting bits scattered throughout, and you spend time noticing each of them, the painter really wants you to study that central object. And, of course, because nothing exists in a vacuum, the painter wants you to synthesize the central object and peripheral objects into one whole image, because duh, that’s what it is. Now, imagine that the argument you hear is that painting. The argument is itself a whole, meant to be synthesized as such. But also, you should recognize which item in the argument is the central point and which ones are simply details. If you confuse a peripheral detail with the main argument, no matter how brilliant you think your rebuttal is—and most people consider their arguments to be at their peak when replete with prepositional phrases and passive voice—you haven’t rebutted the argument. Sir, you fail. Go home, take a shit, and go to bed.
Now, consider the way you look at a website. We all know—we’ve heard the sound bytes—that ever since the Internet was created and its use became popular, web browsing has decreased our average attention span (even more than TV has). When we’re browsing the Internet, we don’t typically examine a webpage and identify a prominent theme and its extremities; we don’t try to differentiate between the two. Rather, we scan the site and our eyes roll over everything, seeing nothing, until one random thing grabs our attention. From there, we click. From there, we click. From there, we click. We keep clicking, until we’ve come so far from where we started that we forget how we got there. We havne't synthesized the website’s purpose, but a truckload of moshed-together webshite that has nothing to do with what we were originally searching for. This is how so many people argue. We hear something and, already having in our heads that we’re going to refute it (this behavior is most prevalent in people who think they’re smart), we don’t listen to what we hear and we miss the main point. Rather, we hinge on an extremity that has little or nothing to do with the main argument, make that our own central argument, and tell ourselves we’ve refuted our interlocutor. Really, all we've done is run our fucking mouth.
And… I am out of steam. I'm not going to proofread that (*GASP*). I’m not 100% positive “interlocutor” means what I think it means. I need to sleep. Will probably rant more within the next few days.
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