An editor in Spain reminded me of this piece written almost twenty years ago. I'm reposting it here, but please read with a dose of generosity. I was quite young when I wrote it, many of the links are dead, and the discourse of digital studies has changed a great deal since then, even as the issues and concerns of cyberfeminism live on. This was first published in the journal Switch. I don't have the date recorded, but I think the text was written in the spring of 1999 and likely published that spring or summer.
"Hardware, software, wetware -- before their beginnings and beyond their ends, women have been the simulators, assemblers, and programmers of the digital machines."
--Sadie Plant, Zeros and Ones
It would be hasty to dismiss Sadie Plant's recent book, Zeros and Ones, as being totally second-wave feminism. True, she seems quite interested in the deep, dark, technological feminine; she speaks of the male Ones and their binary opposites, the female Zeros; and she manages to weave together a genuine her-story of technology. Yet, she also reaches beyond these constrains into a complex relationship between women and machines. This relationship, tied up in problematics surrounding identity, technology and the body, is at the heart of the contemporary movement called cyberfeminism. Continue reading
Also from Enzensberger's book Mausoleum is this vivid but tone deaf account of Alan Turing, indicative of the homophobia evident in much of the secondary literature on Turing. The scientist was “shrill” but also silent, fainted inexplicably, didn't want to touch people, and “inadvertently” drank poison. “Evidently he was out to delete himself,” was Enzensberger's dry assessment. As an antidote I would recommend reading this along side Jacob Gaboury's “A Queer History of Computing.”
A. M. T. (1912-1954)
It's certain that he never read a newspaper; that he knitted his gloves himself; that he always kept losing trunks, books, coats; and that, whenever he broke his stubborn silence at meals, he fell into a shrill stuttering or a cackling laugh. His eyes were a radiant, inorganic blue, like stained glass.
Very well then. Let us imagine a universal automaton A, which is capable of simulating any other automaton. An. A is a black box fed with an endless strip of paper; this band is the outer world of the machine. It is divided into fields, each single one of which is either blank or marked. We now imagine that A patiently reads one field after another, moving the strip one field forward or backward, and/or writes a mark and/or erases a mark, and we name this apparatus, after its inventor, a Turing machine. Continue reading
I recently ran across Hans Magnus Enzensberger's strange and wonderful book Mausoleum: Thirty-seven Ballads from the History of Progress, a treasure trove of hot takes on historical figures, whom he references only through their initials and dates (birth and death). Below is Enzensberger's ballad to GW Leibniz.
G. W. L. (1646-1716)
We don't know his feelings. The periphery seems proper
as in a perfect apparatus. The privy councilor's state coat
was covered with buckles and buttons and laces and sashes.
Behind the wire-wig, the switching network metallized,
in a very dense packing. Motionless motion prevailed
under the cranium. Data -- recorded, encoded,
and processed and stored: Tabulation of knowledge,
Monatliche Auszüge, Journal des Savants, Acta eruditorum
What he left to a helpless world was a hayrick
of annals, reports, memoranda, catalogues,
miscellanea; a hurly-burly of abstracts and abstracts
of abstracts and abstracts of abstracts of abstracts....
(We of the Defense Department were never happy with L. True,
he's a genius, no one denies that. But there's one imperfection:
and that's his perfection. His "human traits,"
a certain love of money, a slight podagra, are camouflage,
cunning loops in his program structure, tricks,
to mislead us. It very nearly worked. Proof:
So far no one in the ruling house has any suspicions.
But we say openly: L. is an artifact, and presumably,
he, humming, is employed by a remote and alien power.)
Please join me on September 20 for a lecture at the American Academy in Berlin. I'll be speaking on computation and digitality through a series of archival sites from the 19th C up to the present day. As I understand it the lecture is free and open to the public, but one must register for the event online. I'm here in Berlin through December and hope to reestablish connections with colleagues, as well as make new ones.
Taeyoon Choi and I are collaborating on a new project in June at the School for Poetic Computation in New York. Please join us!
Lectures: June 20th and June 28th, 2018, 6~9pm
Exhibition: June 20th to June 28th, 2018, 1~6pm
More information and to RSVP
Here is my review of Patrick Jagoda's book Network Aesthetics from the current issue of the journal Novel.
Good debates are invigorating. That digital media studies has thus far provided too few real debates is at least a partial explanation for its sluggish development, prematurely sunk by a buoyant enthusiasm for all things digital or halted by the endless repetition of trite slogans unopposed, like “everything is connected” or “information wants to be free.” So it is with great fanfare that we should greet the recent explosion of sophisticated texts tackling the digital apparatus from many directions. A golden age of tech theory is currently underway, and we may expect the next several years to be fruitful ones indeed.
Already a decade ago Mark Marino helped inaugurate a new field of inquiry dubbed “critical code studies,” a disciplinary shift evident today in scholarship from the likes of Rita Raley, Adrian MacKenzie, and Matthew Fuller. At the same time, a renewed interest in infrastructure has guided a number of important recent books in media studies, such as Nicole Starosielski's The Undersea Network and Tung-Hui Hu's A Prehistory of the Cloud, both devoted to the real materiality of networks. Theorists like Luciana Parisi and Yuk Hui have recently explored the various philosophical nuances of digitality, fueled in Hui's case by the tech philosophy of Bernard Stiegler and Gilbert Simondon. Or consider Simone Browne's timely Dark Matters, dealing with the technology of race, or adjacent work on opacity and queer computing from scholars like Zach Blas, Jacob Gaboury, and Kara Keeling. While feminist theory has long engaged with digital technology, the recent Xenofeminist manifesto echoed particularly widely, due in no small measure to a series of staunch positions taken by the manifesto's authors on controversial topics such as alienation and posthumanism. At the same time, Martine Syms's “Mundane Afrofuturist Manifesto” provided a refreshing alternative to some of these accelerationist tendencies, stressing as her manifesto does the mundane over the extraterrestrial. Even in the world of art criticism, computational and network aesthetics have come to the fore, exemplified by the wide dispersion of a pamphlet by the artist Seth Price, aptly titled “Dispersion,” or, in a different way, by recent volumes on networks and participation from David Joselit and Claire Bishop. Continue reading
I'm posting the audio for my two recent seminars at the University of Dundee in Scotland.
The Concept of the Digital (May 14th) -- at the start I was relying on this sequence of images.
The Concept of the Analog (May 15th) -- at around the 1h12m mark I showed a short clip from Peter Fischli and David Weiss's 1987 film "The Way Things Go."
As you'll hear the sessions oscillate between formal presentation and informal discussion, and there are frequent exchanges with the seminar participants. I'd like to thank all the faculty and students at Dundee who participated, and in particular acknowledge Sarah Cook, Tina Rock, and Dominic Smith, who were very generous with their time during my visit.
“There’s no philosophy of pessimism...only the reverse...”
After long last. (But never long enough). Your summer just got a whole lot worse...
I've read this in manuscript form, and it's an astonishing work. Very personal. And at the same time absolutely impersonal. This might be ET's definitive statement, and I dare say destined to become a classic text in the literature on pessimism.
I'm happy to announce that I'll be a guest at the University of Dundee in Scotland in a few weeks for the Dundee Centenary Fellowship underwritten by the Scots Philosophical Association. While in Dundee I'll be giving two masterclasses and a public lecture.
First Masterclass: The Concept of the Digital, May 14th, 4-6pm
Second Masterclass: The Concept of the Analog, May 15th, 4-6pm
Evening lecture (on Digital Aesthetics), May 16th, 4-6pm
I'm working on a project right now that's so strange and perverse that I simply have to divulge my experiences, although I'm not yet sure what they amount to. Several years ago I worked on a strange episode from the late Guy Debord, the notorious French author and filmmaker and founding member of the Situationist International. In the 1970s Debord designed and released a game called the Game of War. I wrote about it and ported the game to the computer a few years back. The computer version is offline at the moment. But now and again I return to the game, spending time trying to rebuild it using today's technologies in the hopes of getting it back online.
Discovering that Debord had released a commercial board game was a surprise to me. Researching this game in great detail was revelatory. But what I'm doing now is truly strange... I'm trying to author the AI for the computer version. In essence I'm trying to convert Debord into an algorithm. I'm building my own Debord AI. Continue reading