Dennis Cass Wants You To Be More Awesome

I don’t listen to telephone conversations. There are just too many of them and most of them aren’t very good.

From U AND I:

” . . . I compared myself miserably with an amazing performance by Updike on Dick Cavett that I recalled from the late seventies, where he spoke in swerving, rich, complex paragraphs of unhesitating intelligence that he finally allowed to glide to rest at the curb with a little downward swallowing smile of closure, as if he almost felt that he ought to apologize for his inability to even fake the need to grope for his expression . . . [and] I compared my awkward public self-promotion too with a documentary about Updike that I saw in 1983, I believe, on public TV, in which, in one scene, as the camera follows his climb up a ladder at his mother’s house to put up or take down some storm windows, in the midst of this tricky physical act, he tosses down to us some startingly lucid little felicity, something about “These small yearly duties which blah, blah, blah,” and I was stunned to recognize that in Updike we were dealing with a man so naturally verbal that he could write his fucking memoirs on a ladder!”

Somewhere someone said, “Hey, let’s make a three-minute online science show for people who would read the Science Times if it weren’t so punishingly square.”

The result: Grand Unified Weekly

Later this month, the latest How Much Information? research project will reveal its findings. The last time HMI presented its data was in 2003, when Berkeley researchers determined that print, film, magnetic and optical storage media produced five (5) exabytes of new information in 2002.

If digitized with full formatting, the seventeen million books in the Library of Congress contain about 136 terabytes of information; five exabytes of information is equivalent in size to the information contained in 37,000 new libraries the size of the Library of Congress book collections.

This is how HMI attempted to contextualize the five (5) exabytes. You could argue that you would then need another context in order to understand the 17,000,000 books in the LoC, but you get the idea. Here’s a fire hose of data: take a sip.

Whenever I present this tidbit to people, the reaction falls into one of the following general categories:

1. Information overload isn’t new. The (loosely defined) information that life throws your way has, throughout history, been difficult to take in and understand.
2. There is no such thing as too much information. All of this data is a boon for curious, engaged people everywhere—go Internet!
3. My head hurts. Won’t you please make it stop.

Personally, I vacillate between #2 and #3, although I can see the point of #1. Nature, after all, is filled with signs, signals, and cues. I’m sure that there were Cro-Magnon who bummed on the number of animal sounds they needed to recognize.

But I would also argue that what we’re going through now is different because the 37,000 Libraries of Congress are on top of the general complexity of life. And even if you don’t engage with the new LoCs that are created every year, you know they are out there. All that info creates indirect pressure on you, especially if your job is requires mastery of knowledge, insight, making connections, etc.

In my talk I said it was important for every writer and artist to take a personal stance toward all this new information. My bet is when the next HMI comes out it will say that at least seven (7) exabytes of new information are created each year. Unless the upcoming solar storm season brings down the Web, we’re going to have to reckon with the LoCs.

So I’m going to try a little experiment this month. I’m going to ignore it all. I will still search for information, and use information, but I’m not going to worry it. Perhaps one of you fine readers out there will take it upon yourselves to do the opposite. Then we can compare notes, yes?

Thanks to everyone who came out last night to see me talk. It was gratifying to see such a positive response.

We’ll explore some of the topics and themes in the coming weeks, but for now here are the links I promised:

2003 How Much Information? Study

2008 How Much Information? Study (results pending)

I Can Has Cheezburger

Top Ten Awesome Bush Shoe-Toss Animated GIFS

No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July

Manbabies

Enjoy the links and check back soon for more moreness.

First, congratulations to President Obama. If there is anything that I can do to help, please let me know.

Second, tonight’s the night for my library talk. Think of it as DCWYTBMA Live! Or DCWYTBMA on Ice!

Here are the deets:

The Always-On Artist: Technology, Creativity and Making Meaning in the 21st Century

Pohlad Hall

Minneapolis Central Library

300 Nicollet Mall

7:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m.

I hope to see you there!

What is the most exciting, sunshine-happiness situation that technology creates for the artist and the arts?

(Sorry if things came off a little negative before.)

I’m going to say copy and paste. You use it so often that you don’t even realize you’re using it, but this simple operation also helps open up your thinking. Making interesting connections and strange associations is only a control-c/control-v away.

I say it’s commoditization. If it’s easier to be make, distribute and consume art stuffs, then there there will be more of said art stuffs that will be made, distributed and consumed, which means that all past, present and future art stuffs will inherently have less value.

First, thanks to everyone who has contributed to my talk. As I wrap up the writing and start the rehearsing, I’m grateful for your comments and your e-mails.

Final question:

The image of the lone, visionary artist is a powerful one in our culture, even if it’s a recent (post-Baroque period) invention. Do you believe in one person’s ability to change the world with their work? Or has postmodernism/relativism/Internetism changed all that?

Final thought:

I realize these questions are abstract as all get out. Promise the show will be more grounded in example.

Thanks and take care,

Dennis