Instant Too Much
It seems we're in the Land of the Three Bears, but we're missing Baby Bear.
Huh?
Well, first there's the world of too little - too quick, too meaningless, too style-over-substance. Sound bites without context; Three.Word.Sentences. that mean nothing when you parse them; Hallmark card statements that are shared endlessly on Facebook; Tweets, complete with #hashtags that are supposed to convey worlds of meaning and don't (#bringbackourgirls); Selfies, group selfies, bathroom mirror selfies; photo "bombing;" the word "boom." I could go on and on - idiotically, there is an overabundance of non-information. (Mama Bear)
Then, there is the world of too much: rehashing (no offense, hashtags!); reposting; "viral" information that is often just plain wrong (hence a website like Snopes the sole purpose of which is to correct disinformation that has circled the globe again and again - and as we all know, however-many-Frenchmen can't be wrong!); the 24-hour news cycle that is forced to make a major story out of a minor one just to keep talking. And talking. And talking. (Papa Bear)
Now here's an idea that seems to bring the world of Mama Bear and Papa Bear together: PechaKucha Nights.
It's actually sort of interesting in a way: you, the presenter, have a 20x20 "space" to fill with some new, novel, interesting, unexpected information, story, passion, passtime - you name it. You show 20 "slides" (typically PowerPoint) and can speak about each for 20 seconds. Then you're done. I expect there might be time for questions, but then on to the next.
So, here we are making a story out of possibly nothing (Papa Bear) but making it so fast that it might be rendered impossible to truly grasp (string theory in 20 slides/20 seconds anyone?).
However, it seems to be a perfect shorthand (all puns very much intended) for today's information overload in bites to small to really taste. Yes, I'm mixing my metaphors.
We've certainly moved far, far away from the world of Faulkner (with extraordinary, long, complex sentences), long summer nights spent chasing fireflies or afternoons making animals out of clouds as the drift overhead, or European style meals that last three or four hours with conversations that morph slowly from one topic to the next as a new thought is introduced, tasted, savored and digested.
Hemingway presaged this with his style of short, repetitive sentences; Warhol (we think) suggested we were headed for a world in which everyone would have his 15 minutes (only now I'd make that seconds) of fame.
And of course, technology is the enabler of this.
There is an app, recently valued at $10 million, beyond which I can't imagine we can go: Yo. The entire point of the app is to text the message "Yo" to someone. As the New York Times reported it, Yo is "the new smartphone app whose sole purpose is to let people send text messages saying 'Yo.'"
In one use of the app, a simple "Yo" sent in Israel would alert friends to a rocket strike. Perhaps children would "Yo" their parents to let them know they're ok. As the inventors explained,
Huh?
Well, first there's the world of too little - too quick, too meaningless, too style-over-substance. Sound bites without context; Three.Word.Sentences. that mean nothing when you parse them; Hallmark card statements that are shared endlessly on Facebook; Tweets, complete with #hashtags that are supposed to convey worlds of meaning and don't (#bringbackourgirls); Selfies, group selfies, bathroom mirror selfies; photo "bombing;" the word "boom." I could go on and on - idiotically, there is an overabundance of non-information. (Mama Bear)
Then, there is the world of too much: rehashing (no offense, hashtags!); reposting; "viral" information that is often just plain wrong (hence a website like Snopes the sole purpose of which is to correct disinformation that has circled the globe again and again - and as we all know, however-many-Frenchmen can't be wrong!); the 24-hour news cycle that is forced to make a major story out of a minor one just to keep talking. And talking. And talking. (Papa Bear)
Now here's an idea that seems to bring the world of Mama Bear and Papa Bear together: PechaKucha Nights.
It's actually sort of interesting in a way: you, the presenter, have a 20x20 "space" to fill with some new, novel, interesting, unexpected information, story, passion, passtime - you name it. You show 20 "slides" (typically PowerPoint) and can speak about each for 20 seconds. Then you're done. I expect there might be time for questions, but then on to the next.
So, here we are making a story out of possibly nothing (Papa Bear) but making it so fast that it might be rendered impossible to truly grasp (string theory in 20 slides/20 seconds anyone?).
However, it seems to be a perfect shorthand (all puns very much intended) for today's information overload in bites to small to really taste. Yes, I'm mixing my metaphors.
We've certainly moved far, far away from the world of Faulkner (with extraordinary, long, complex sentences), long summer nights spent chasing fireflies or afternoons making animals out of clouds as the drift overhead, or European style meals that last three or four hours with conversations that morph slowly from one topic to the next as a new thought is introduced, tasted, savored and digested.
Hemingway presaged this with his style of short, repetitive sentences; Warhol (we think) suggested we were headed for a world in which everyone would have his 15 minutes (only now I'd make that seconds) of fame.
And of course, technology is the enabler of this.
There is an app, recently valued at $10 million, beyond which I can't imagine we can go: Yo. The entire point of the app is to text the message "Yo" to someone. As the New York Times reported it, Yo is "the new smartphone app whose sole purpose is to let people send text messages saying 'Yo.'"
In one use of the app, a simple "Yo" sent in Israel would alert friends to a rocket strike. Perhaps children would "Yo" their parents to let them know they're ok. As the inventors explained,
"'We Yo with co-workers
alerting them that a meeting is starting, I Yo with my wife as a hi
during a busy day. I Yo with friends, without any more expectation or
need than a Yo back,” Mr. Borthwick wrote.
'We are fascinated by
these uses of simple yes/no on/off communications tools,” he added.
“There is no payload in Yo — no pictures, no text, just a deceptively
simple on/off state that over time has the potential to become a
platform.'”
So, in other words, the full meaning of the communication is what you intend it is.
That can't be Baby Bear, can it?
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