Jump to content

Norman Mailer: Works and Days/Project Introduction: Difference between revisions

Norman Mailer: Works and Days/Project Introduction (view source)

Revision as of 15:50, 18 June 2019

14 bytes removed ,  18 June 2019
m
Format tweaks.
m (Tweaked byline.)
m (Format tweaks.)
Line 1: Line 1:
{{DISPLAYTITLE:''Works and Days'' Project Introduction}}
{{DISPLAYTITLE:''Works and Days'' Project Introduction}}
{{WDside|expanded=frontmatter}}
{{byline|last=Lucas|first=Gerald R.}}
{{byline|last=Lucas|first=Gerald R.|align=left}}


In the Spring of 2014, [[Mike Lennon]] and I had lunch at a small café in Atlanta and talked about the future.<ref>This introduction was originally written for the first version of ''W&D'' that was implemented on a Wordpress installation.</ref>
In the Spring of 2014, [[Mike Lennon]] and I had lunch at a small café in Atlanta and talked about the future.<ref>This introduction was originally written for the first version of ''W&D'' that was implemented on a Wordpress installation.</ref>


I had been acting as the voice and advocate of the digital life of the Norman Mailer Society since I joined in 2006. Even before that, my interests and research were catalyzed by the nascent digital world. My graduate work centered on the pinnacle of print culture — literary studies — but simultaneously I dabbled in the revolutionary world of the digital. I spent frustrating hours trying to make my university network account work on my ancient Mac Classic through its 28.8K dial-up connection — fast for the early nineties. My first reaches through cyberspace were limited to a text-based terminal, through which I was introduced to the robust powers of UNIX that seemed light-years behind my Mac’s GUI, yet somehow much stronger, like the difference between a Toyota Tercel and a Mercedes diesel sedan. After earning my M.A., my upgraded 56K modem and the university’s new Point-to-Point Protocol (PPP) fit the Internet to my Mac. Mosaic suddenly opened up my small studio apartment to the World Wide Web and its promise, and I have never looked back.
I had been acting as the voice and advocate of the digital life of the Norman Mailer Society since I joined in 2006. Even before that, my interests and research were catalyzed by the nascent digital world. My graduate work centered on the pinnacle of print culture — literary studies — but simultaneously I dabbled in the revolutionary world of the digital. I spent frustrating hours trying to make my university network account work on my ancient Mac Classic through its 28.8K dial-up connection — fast for the early nineties. My first reaches through cyberspace were limited to a text-based terminal, through which I was introduced to the robust powers of UNIX that seemed light-years behind my Mac’s GUI, yet somehow much stronger, like the difference between a Toyota Tercel and a Mercedes diesel sedan. After earning my M.A., my upgraded 56K modem and the university’s new Point-to-Point Protocol (PPP) fit the Internet to my Mac. Mosaic suddenly opened up my small studio apartment to the World Wide Web and its promise, and I have never looked back.
 
{{WDside|expanded=frontmatter}}
I learned HTML and began to publish my own resources on the Web, like syllabi, experimental hypertexts, and my own personal Web sites. The early Web was like a rough frontier with digital pioneers staking their own settlements in a wild land, but one that, even then, held the promise of a new space that would lead to its own democracy, community, and culture. The years after 1999 would bring inexpensive high-speed access, search engines and aggregators, and the Web 2.0, changing the practice of digital publication from individuals on university servers and dial-up hosts to larger initiatives based on a communal interests. Suddenly those of us who wanted to express ourselves on the Web no longer needed to think about programming languages, hosting, FTP, and HTML. Web 2.0 platforms brought together communities of users who shared a common interest or goal — like Flickr for photography, Blogger for writing, and Wikipedia for crowd-sourced knowledge construction — to contribute, collaborate, and grow a platform that would serve their community’s particular needs. Couple this drive with the later developments in social media and mobile computing, and we find ourselves solidly in a new paradigm of expression located increasingly in the digital.
[[File:Wdv1.png|thumb|left|V.1 of ''WD'' on Wordpress.]]
[[File:Wdv1.png|thumb|left|V.1 of ''WD'' on Wordpress.]]
I learned HTML and began to publish my own resources on the Web, like syllabi, experimental hypertexts, and my own personal Web sites. The early Web was like a rough frontier with digital pioneers staking their own settlements in a wild land, but one that, even then, held the promise of a new space that would lead to its own democracy, community, and culture. The years after 1999 would bring inexpensive high-speed access, search engines and aggregators, and the Web 2.0, changing the practice of digital publication from individuals on university servers and dial-up hosts to larger initiatives based on a communal interests. Suddenly those of us who wanted to express ourselves on the Web no longer needed to think about programming languages, hosting, FTP, and HTML. Web 2.0 platforms brought together communities of users who shared a common interest or goal — like Flickr for photography, Blogger for writing, and Wikipedia for crowd-sourced knowledge construction — to contribute, collaborate, and grow a platform that would serve their community’s particular needs. Couple this drive with the later developments in social media and mobile computing, and we find ourselves solidly in a new paradigm of expression located increasingly in the digital.
Today, we proponents and practitioners of Digital Humanities play the Virgil to the academy's Dante. Our current job is to guide reluctant Humanists though a profession turned upside-down, hopefully emerging cleansed and reborn in the paradise beyond. First, we need to get through that digital Hell.
Today, we proponents and practitioners of Digital Humanities play the Virgil to the academy's Dante. Our current job is to guide reluctant Humanists though a profession turned upside-down, hopefully emerging cleansed and reborn in the paradise beyond. First, we need to get through that digital Hell.


Line 73: Line 70:
{{WDnav}}
{{WDnav}}


{{DEFAUKTSORT:Introduction, Works and Days Project}}
{{DEFAULTSORT:Introduction, Works and Days Project}}


[[Category:Works and Days]]
[[Category:Works and Days]]
Retrieved from "https://projectmailer.net/pm/Special:MobileDiff/8907"