A single node in an amoral universe

Ah, it’s a new year, a new “administration,” a new set of variables (alternative facts?) at work on our reality. I’m still listening to my podcasts (in between audiobooks checked out from the library), and the theme(s) keep clustering around our current obsessions (fears?) — racial equality (white supremacy), immigration (American “exceptionalism”), authoritarian regimes (do I need to put anything more into this parenthesis?) … Just typing this list is making me not only tired but emotionally bankrupt.

I’m currently listening to an episode of Krista Tippet’s On Being devoted to “Tech’s Moral Reckoning,” with Anil Dash, and though I should listen to the end, I find myself getting distracted with all of the information and ideas filtering through my head (it should be noted that I am also pursuing, in other areas/moments of my life, mindfulness practices, and that technology — the simple overload of information, mostly digital, bombarding me 24/7 — is not helping me to stay anywhere NEAR the present moment), (and it should also be noted that the rampant proliferation of parentheses in this post is more than ample demonstration of that fact), and think that the only way to find some momentary focus is to start typing into this open space. When I started this monumental sentence, I think I was planning to say something about the role of technology in what I imagine (that is, make into an image in my head) as a literal rip in the fabric of being that plagues us all in the United States. But this three sentence paragraph does all the work for me.

Think of it as a poem, a metaphor, for my state of “mind.”

I’m torn into digital bits. My attention wanders between digital texts of my own and others’ creations. I can’t seem to find the thread to sew this all into a recognizable animal. I mean, seriously. What the fuck am I thinking?

I’ve got a blog where I noodle on about my reading with my creative writing students.  I’ve got a Twitter account (see embedded insert) where I tend to retweet all the quips that #attack and #dismantle the #headcheetofromhell and his #minionsofmalice. (Needless to say, checking on Twitter raises my blood pressure.) I’ve got a Facebook account where I try to be positive and upbeat; but again I find myself drowning in information, glimpses into lives near and far, cascades of faces and statuses and pictures and … I didn’t check the account for two days and got 96 notifications. I’ve got a new Instagram account, and a Snapchat, and Google+, and GroupMe, and LInkedIn, and Slack.

And of course this domain of my own. Which is the last place I ever go. Here I sit on the internet, tooting my own horn, a place to organize everything (“one ring to …” — fuck it. I never did like that series), a lone and probably dying star (node) in the middle of a vast and indifferent and (now it would appear) probably unethical universe.

Concurrently, I’m using an MLS (Moodle) to connect with my students, Google Drive to read and respond to their work, and Twitter to share it with others outside of our group. I’m getting over 100 emails a day. I’m texting my daughter and others from the time I wake up until shortly before I go to sleep. I’m reading my books on Kindle. I’m taking two MOOCs (one on St. Norbert and another, ha, on Mindfulness). I’m using the Headspace app to practice at least 10 minutes of meditation a day. I’m listening to Spotify. I’m getting my news through The Daily Skimm.

And what’s the point of all this?  I don’t know. Perhaps it has something to do with the “fact” that I too am ripped into bits, that I can’t even communicate with myself, that I’m alienated from the present moment and thus from myself and others and I’m using as my alibi the very technology which is prompting me to explore the ability to connect and communicate and be present. Which makes me as crude and hypocritical (not to mention hypercritical) as those who offend me.

All this to say: I don’t know what the point of “all this” can be. Can there be a single point?

Podcast Animal

I’ve found a new way to lose myself (forget you, Netflix Showhole): podcasts.

Here are a few that have risen to the top of my playlist lately:

Invisibilia: This show, featuring two women whose voices are notoriously similar (in fact, I still can’t tell them apart), pulls apart the invisible forces that make us who we are — emotions, personality, thoughts, and so forth. I’m always fascinated.

Politically Re-Active with W. Kamau Bell & Hari Kondabolu: Great discussions of important racial issues, complete with gentle nudges to people, including myself, still blind to some of the ways in which our whiteness privileges us.

The Moth:  Ordinary people get up in front of a microphone and tell their stories without notes. I always learn something. And I often get teary.

StoryCorps: Like The Moth, this podcast involves story telling. But it’s derived from a conversation between two people. Sometimes, these people know each other intimately. But sometimes they’re strangers. I really like the way these very short snippets of lives make me think deeply about everyone who passes me on the street. I always think: who is that person? What’s her story? What moments is he remembering?

This American Life: Like Invisibilia, this podcast dives into topics of relevance to us today using a narrative model (interviews with experts, interested and interesting people). I’ve learned a lot from it.

Modern Love: A classmate from the MFA program at the University of Arizona, the talented editor and writer Daniel Jones, edits this NYT column and now serves as commentator to these dramatic renderings of the personal essays he publishes each week.

Dear Sugar Radio: Advice from two amusing pundits on life and love.

On Being with Krista Tippett: I feel spiritually uplifted and challenged after listening to an episode of this.

The Nerdist: Where else can I figure out just what’s getting discussed in the latest hipster dufus hangout?

TED Radio Hour: Saves me from wading through digital square miles of TED broadcasts on YouTube by pulling together relevant snippets into a feature length exploration.

Basically, I’ve had my ears plugged with NPR stories for weeks now, and I feel enlarged by the experience. Again and again, I learn that we need to communicate, and to connect with each other, in order to create a more cohesive and loving community.

Digital Corners

Learning about how to manage your “digital profile” is an ongoing endeavor, and one best launched in youth. At this point of my “becoming,” I’m having trouble remembering where to go and when; even my Google calendar isn’t enough to keep me on track. Now that I’m trying to keep track of all my digital foot- and fingerprints, I feel as if I’m losing track of my limbs.

This website for instance … With a strange shock I remembered, the other day, that I’d built this place. And then forgotten about it. So here it hangs, alone, in the webverse. After a renaissance in Twitter sparked by my January course in Digital Pedagogy, I’ve fallen back into Twitter neglect. It’s hard enough to keep up with the demands of Facebook posts (personal and for Faculty Development). I’m relegated to lurker, and binge reposter.

Is maintaining a digital presence quite like electronic housekeeping? I fear the aptness of the metaphor. Given the grungy corners in my physical and mental houses, I suspect cobwebs will spin and then dangle from this website and Twitter and various other electronic spaces by May, and it will be a cold day in July when I come back with my digital broom.

 

computer
Like, I can’t get this to go upright. Seems fitting.

Learning as I go

As part of my online course to learn more about digital technologies I can use in the classroom, I’m learning how to put together this website. My method is haphazard — I’m dinking around in WordPress, trying to figure out how things work. So far, it’s been a slow process.

If you’re reading this (which seems unlikely), and you’d like to give me some tips, feel free to do so. I need all the help I can get.