I think it was today, when I received an audio chat invitation from my 11 year old, Marcus, from inside my house, that I realized it had happened. We have officially become totally wired.
Each member of the family now has their own laptop. Miki and I have become Twitter, Facebook and My Space addicts (with My Space now a distant third for me - just too much stuff to keep up with.) I've been going through PDA withdrawal now for three days since my iPod touch went missing. Marcus does Virtual School through the web. Naomi turns in assignments to me through Home-school-inc.com, and messages me even when she's only 10 steps away. Christopher rarely detaches his Blackjack from his fingers for fear losing contact with the phone will signal an early social demise.
Not that I will start pining for the days of tin cans and string being the most advanced communication system available. It would be hypocritical in the least for me to blame my kids for being enthralled by their gadgets when their father practically lives on them. It is simply striking how naturally the digital lifestyle fits them, when some of this technology - Google Maps, audio and video chatting, GPS, etc. - barely existed when they were born.
One topic I am sincerely interested in studying with the kids is how all this technology works. I mean, really - how does my voice show up in a little device a thousand miles away, instantaneously? What kind of electromagnetic energy allows for transmissions from a satellite to my TV dish? And, probably most important, how many people still understand the underpinnings of our digital infrastructure? Is there a self-sustaining brain trust of the finest scientists teaching the next generation of collegiate technocrats? Or, like our economic meltdown, is it simply a house of cards constructed by behemoth companies that no longer understand the depth or complexity of the systems they constructed to support all these technologies? And can we, as consumers of the digital world, continue to be ignorant of how much these systems run our daily lives?
All this puzzles me as I twitter, blog, Skype, and text my way into that same technology driven connection between my closest friends and my most interesting strangers. The connections that this digital lifestyle creates also gives me pause. When did our lives become so fragmented that the only way we feel connected is by placing our thoughts, one moment at a time, on this tapestry of consciousnesses known as Twitter? I've quickly become very interested in seeing people's entries ("Tweets" for the uninitiated), as they give me a glimpse into how other people get through the day. Perhaps it's because each of us feel like no one else really sees us, anymore. The effort to say, "my thoughts, my feelings matter" has been the single driving force behind the advance of the social media tech boom. When people feel disenfranchised from government, or family, or country in a tangible sense, who else is there to turn to but the blogger across the country that is willing to read your complaints and compliments, that seems to have more in common with you than the neighbor that's been across the street for years, but still doesn't know your name?
By no means do I mean to imply that bloggers or Twitterers have no physical or social connections outside of the web. Far from it. I do think it is indicative of our current state that we now feel more connected with who are with us ideologically than who are around us physically. Both my wife and I have been struck by the feeling that many times those around us are simply acquaintances, but not really friends. The hardest part is determining whether it is the fear of rejection by our peers that drives us to connect to our web connections - because they choose to come to us, and it's instant validation. There's no pain of getting to know you, of sharing my intimate feelings before acceptance. There's a click, and a reading of a 120 character bio, some common tag words, and we're linked. Linked in a way that is both entrancing and, perhaps, unrealistic. But only time will tell if our new Internet personalities end up enhancing or diminishing our ability to connect eye to eye, face to face, voice to voice, instead of Voice to Voice Over Internet Protocol.
I must go now though. My cell phone needs charging, my online planner is in need of updating, and online bills must be paid. Maybe I'll unplug one of these weekends and show I'm able to give up all the wiredness, quit cold turkey. Surely I'm not addicted to the point that I can't do a non-digital day. You'll see.
Well, after I buy a new iPod Touch, that is.
Looking unto the hills,
homeschooldaddy
Showing posts with label Entertainment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Entertainment. Show all posts
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Sunday, June 01, 2008
34% done...Birthdays, Black Men and Boxing....
Yes, it's my birthday, and yes, I'm celebrating the way any fun-loving, still actively social middle age man would - by eating Kettle Cooked potato chips, drinking Kool-Aid and watching "The Fugitive" at 2:30 in the morning.
Life is good.
34% implies that I plan to live to 100 - which I think is a pretty good goal, and not a morbid one, since most don't make it to that milestone in health. I know I'm supposed to be nearing 40, which is the new 30, or something like that, and having some trepidation. I feel none of that. Just glad to have made it one year longer than Jesus did in His earthly time. Some may have wanted to crucify me before now and failed....and being a survivor is reward and gift enough.
Moving on, I just watched the debut of the mixed martial arts genre of fighting on CBS. For those not aware, Kimbo Slice is a homeless street fighter - turned - internet sensation, who now is considered the second coming of Mike Tyson. He is a hulk of a man, with a long bushy Middle Eastern type beard, a surprisingly soft spoken manner, but eyes and countenance of a caged animal when fighting. He barely beat the fellow he fought, a British man with more true fighting experience who used wrestling moves to tire out the older, brawling mauler from the streets of Miami. I was entranced and disgusted all at once. Yes, my son and I admired the fighting moves, the quick knockouts where the eyes of the opponent roll back and the knees turn to wet noodle. Of course, men of all times have been fighters - this is not a paean to non-violence or an attempt to de-cry the efforts of a man to use his one skill to escape poverty or to gain fame and notoriety. I've always admired Joe Louis, Ali, Sugar Ray Robinson, Roy Jones, Jr., and other great pugilists.
What I found disturbing was the image of a black man as beast, the way the camera almost "king konged" his chest and face, the screaming of fans praying for the big black man to beat down the big white man for their entertainment. I know we surely have progressed from the days of the Great White Hope and the image of a Joe Johnson as a threat to decent society back in the early days of boxing. But something is still ingrained in our culture when it comes to African Americans and our violent outbursts. Would Kimbo Slice be celebrated if he hadn't had the poverty stricken streets of Overtown to fall into fighting for money? I mean, take this fight from the TV and lights of Vegas to the school yard, and you have the Jena 6 or the LA riots on your hands. And isn't the world that tolerates the conditions of gang violence and glorification of "thug life" simply patting itself on the back when a Kimbo emerges as a "great story"? I mean, why does the commentator of the fight need to remind us that Mr. Slice had to find anywhere he could to relieve himself while he was homeless? Is that really necessary, or does it reinforce the point that we can't fathom that millions of people both in the US and else where live that transient life everyday?
Perhaps again, one example does not a movement make. But I hope Mr. Slice one day goes back to Overtown with his six figure boxing prizes, take off his gloves, and teaches a young black man to beat up the system that nearly claimed his own life - to become a champion over more than physical opponents, but over the mentality of "biggest boss", "flossing", and "stacks of cheddar". To be able to overcome the stereotype that makes you successful is true independent success.
Time to sleep my three hours before my official birthday - and I must take a minute to thank my parents for not giving up either three hours before my birth, or the 34 years hence. Hopefully I've not been a disappointment. :-) Thanks to all that have made my life so rich through their interaction with me. If I named you all, I would have to change the blog's name to "Long List Daddy". Much love to all of you nonetheless.
Looking unto the Hills,
homeschooldaddy
Life is good.
34% implies that I plan to live to 100 - which I think is a pretty good goal, and not a morbid one, since most don't make it to that milestone in health. I know I'm supposed to be nearing 40, which is the new 30, or something like that, and having some trepidation. I feel none of that. Just glad to have made it one year longer than Jesus did in His earthly time. Some may have wanted to crucify me before now and failed....and being a survivor is reward and gift enough.
Moving on, I just watched the debut of the mixed martial arts genre of fighting on CBS. For those not aware, Kimbo Slice is a homeless street fighter - turned - internet sensation, who now is considered the second coming of Mike Tyson. He is a hulk of a man, with a long bushy Middle Eastern type beard, a surprisingly soft spoken manner, but eyes and countenance of a caged animal when fighting. He barely beat the fellow he fought, a British man with more true fighting experience who used wrestling moves to tire out the older, brawling mauler from the streets of Miami. I was entranced and disgusted all at once. Yes, my son and I admired the fighting moves, the quick knockouts where the eyes of the opponent roll back and the knees turn to wet noodle. Of course, men of all times have been fighters - this is not a paean to non-violence or an attempt to de-cry the efforts of a man to use his one skill to escape poverty or to gain fame and notoriety. I've always admired Joe Louis, Ali, Sugar Ray Robinson, Roy Jones, Jr., and other great pugilists.
What I found disturbing was the image of a black man as beast, the way the camera almost "king konged" his chest and face, the screaming of fans praying for the big black man to beat down the big white man for their entertainment. I know we surely have progressed from the days of the Great White Hope and the image of a Joe Johnson as a threat to decent society back in the early days of boxing. But something is still ingrained in our culture when it comes to African Americans and our violent outbursts. Would Kimbo Slice be celebrated if he hadn't had the poverty stricken streets of Overtown to fall into fighting for money? I mean, take this fight from the TV and lights of Vegas to the school yard, and you have the Jena 6 or the LA riots on your hands. And isn't the world that tolerates the conditions of gang violence and glorification of "thug life" simply patting itself on the back when a Kimbo emerges as a "great story"? I mean, why does the commentator of the fight need to remind us that Mr. Slice had to find anywhere he could to relieve himself while he was homeless? Is that really necessary, or does it reinforce the point that we can't fathom that millions of people both in the US and else where live that transient life everyday?
Perhaps again, one example does not a movement make. But I hope Mr. Slice one day goes back to Overtown with his six figure boxing prizes, take off his gloves, and teaches a young black man to beat up the system that nearly claimed his own life - to become a champion over more than physical opponents, but over the mentality of "biggest boss", "flossing", and "stacks of cheddar". To be able to overcome the stereotype that makes you successful is true independent success.
Time to sleep my three hours before my official birthday - and I must take a minute to thank my parents for not giving up either three hours before my birth, or the 34 years hence. Hopefully I've not been a disappointment. :-) Thanks to all that have made my life so rich through their interaction with me. If I named you all, I would have to change the blog's name to "Long List Daddy". Much love to all of you nonetheless.
Looking unto the Hills,
homeschooldaddy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
