Blog: Articles filed under culture

Some big news in the Canadian tech industry this week was the advent of the Amazon Kindle in Canada. I’ve mentioned my mad love for the Kindle previously as well as my discomfort with Amazon’s approach to tethered appliances. So, now that the Kindle is finally available here, will I be getting one?

The short answer is no, not right now. Technologically, I think the Kindle is an amazing device that uses some pretty interesting physics to make reading easy and comfortable. It boggles my mind that we have the ability to store so many books in such a small, slim shell and take it anywhere with us! However, I still have reservations about whether an e-reader is necessary, and I’m still set against tethered appliances. So here’s the long answer.

One More Piece of Luggage

When you leave the house, what do you check to make sure you’ve got with you? Keys, mobile phone, ID, maybe money? What about your Kindle?

I’ve got this bizarre notion that, if I one day get a smartphone, I could use that device as my e-reader as well. It makes sense to combine them; we‘ve already rolled music players and cameras into our phones. It’s one less device to worry about forgetting at home—or worse, elsewhere.

Of course, the Kindle (and other e-readers) are superior technologically for reading books. Their screens are designed to make it easier to read, and their battery life will probably last longer if you‘re just flipping pages. I can see how an e-reader would be a sensible investment for someone who doesn’t want or have a smartphone. And I don’t deny that some part of me wants an Amazon Kindle.¹ I‘m just not convinced that it makes the most sense.

The Ol’ Ball and Chain

No matter how attractive or sensible the Kindle may be, it’s still tethered to the home office. Like the sleek and shiny iPhone, the Kindle is loyal to its manufacturer, not to you, the consumer. When you buy the Kindle, you’re just buying a device that’s a gateway to all the other content Amazon wants you to view but not own. The Kindle is a gateway drug.

Amazon demonstrated the draconian way it can manage Kindle content in July, when it deleted illegal copies of 1984 from people’s Kindles. To Amazon’s credit, apologies were made, and an Amazon spokesman assured us that it would never happen again—that, in fact, changes would be made so Amazon could no longer delete books remotely. It’s still a sobering reminder that, despite your physical possession of the Kindle, it isn’t really yours.

I‘m aware that the Kindle can read multiple formats, including yummy plain text files from Project Gutenberg. Yet the Kindle’s main goal is to persuade you to buy “Kindle editions” of books you want to read. These are proprietary files that only authorized devices can read, whereas a plain text file is readable by any number of devices. There are two problems with this. Firstly, it allows Amazon to control when and where you have access to the book you purchased. Secondly, it raises the spectre of data loss—since only Amazon-authorized devices can read the Kindle format, what happens if Amazon disappears? Unlikely, but still possible. Realistically, there are ways to cirumvent the DRM protection on the Kindle format and retrieve one’s data, but they aren’t legal, which leaves you in the interesting position of having to break the law to get at content you bought. An open format is safer when it comes to preserving and backing up.

I‘m using the Kindle as an example because of its release in Canada, but Amazon is not the only company doing this to its e-readers. Sony, whose Reader line has long been available in Canada, also has a DRM format. And when Barnes and Noble’s e-reader comes out, I‘m sure they’ll have a proprietary format as well. This isn’t the exception but the rule. And it’s up to us to change that.

Why? Well, Amazon, Sony, and B&N are doing what they think is best for their bottom line. They don’t want freely available, easily re-distributable books that will cut into the profit margins for themselves, for their publishers, and for their authors. I understand the desire to cut down on privacy, but we’ve been down this road before. There’s a reason that recording labels have finally agreed to drop DRM from iTunes. These bookstores, like the recording industry and the newspaper industry, are clinging to an outmoded idea of copyright and redistribution. Amazon, as a solely online venture, should know better. Clearly it doesn’t.

In Which I Return the Soapbox to Its Rightful Owners

So that’s why we, the consumers, need to show that this isn’t the model we want.² Or at least, that’s what I think. I don’t know. Sometimes I feel old and codgery. I‘m a technophile who refuses to get a smartphone because I’m holding out for something that runs Google Android, and I refuse to change to a carrier that does offer an Android device because the competing carriers in Thunder Bay have ludicrous service and pricing compared to TBayTel.

Maybe I should just get off my high horse and admit that yeah, the Kindle is pretty darn awesome and I‘d love to have one. But I can’t do it. I just can’t. I could probably surrender on the smartphone front, one day, if I so desired. This is different.

This is about knowledge. Books are one of the most precious resources of knowledge we have, and I will not be party to locking them away under the guise of “copyright protection” and “digital rights management.” I will not be complicit in the gradual erosion of the public domain, nor in the partitioning of content by format and fiat.³

If you‘re new to this debate and want to learn more, I’ll point you to the (somewhat biased) work of Cory Doctorow, Michael Geist, Lawrence Lessig, and Jonathan Zittrain, great advocates for a more open Internet.

I’m going to go read a non-DRMed book.

• [ 1 ] The three-year-old, “I want it! I want it! I want it!” part.
• [ 2 ] Yes, I‘m advocating that we let the free market decide. I’m not totally socialist!
• [ 3 ] Twenty years from now, assuming this blog hasn’t been locked away behind some proprietary wall, the cynical Future Ben will look back at Present-Day Ben and shake his head at Present-Day Ben’s naive idealism. But until that day comes, I’m allowed to be as naive and idealistic as I like!

I‘ve given it a great deal of thought, for it’s a complicated subject. However, I now believe that rebooting Star Trek is not a good idea.

The new Star Trek film, premiering this Friday, is a “prequel” in the sense that it takes place prior to the original series, but not a prequel in the sense that it actually results in an alternate timeline.¹ This allows J.J. Abrams to effectively shed the burden of forty-three years of Star Trek continuity and boldly go where Star Trek has never, never gone before.² Well, for the record, I think J.J. Abrams is wrong.

Yes, yes, I‘m well aware that for many people, J.J. Abrams is God, and oh-em-gee-how-could-you-say-such-a-thing?!

I’m not against rebooting Star Trek’s continuity per se. After all, Ronald D. Moore reimagined Battlestar Galactica, and that turned out rather well. Star Trek arguably has a more developed universe than Battlestar Galactica, however, which requires far more careful handling than simply overwriting the timeline. In that respect, Star Trek is more similar to Dune.³ It’s not the reboot that worries me—it’s the reasons for the reboot, and the ramifications of the reboot on both Star Trek as a franchise and the entertainment industry itself.

Abrams has repeatedly said that he’s not necessarily a fan of Star Trek in the way fans are (fanatically) and he tried to make a movie for people who like to see movies, not just for the fans. This strategy worries me, because it implies Paramount lacks confidence in the current Star Trek mythos‘ ability to attract more fans. We don’t want another Star Trek: Nemesis, after all.⁴

Let’s suppose that this is true. Suppose that, for whatever reason, our cultural climate is more attuned to the darker stories of Battlestar Galactica and Star Wars than the optimistic, semi-utopian future portrayed in Star Trek. If that is the case, then why are we trying to change Star Trek to fit into this new box? In doing so, we compromise the themes upon which Star Trek is based, and if that happens, then we don’t have Star Trek anymore—we‘ve got a new, mutated franchise inspired by Star Trek.

To some extent, we fans are complicit in this mutation of our beloved Trek. There’s a difference between loyal campaigning (to save the original series, for instance, or even the misguided efforts of those Enterprise loyalists) and attempting to sustain a franchise beyond its viability. Paramount wouldn’t have greenlit this movie were it not for the fans; regardless of intent, it’s the fans who are going to fill those seats—because of the title of movie and not its story. Because, let’s be honest here, fans: we’ve had the bald bad guy before (General Chang, Shinzon) and the evil uber-weapon (General Chang’s bird-of-prey, Shinzon’s Scimitar). This new film isn’t a fresh start for Star Trek; it’s a classic science fiction plot with cutting-edge special effects and the Star Trek characters.

Aside from the fact that it means starting from square zero, as far as fan base is concerned, why bother making another Star Trek movie at all? If Paramount is so concerned about the marketability of Star Trek, why not give Abrams a mandate to launch a new space opera movie franchise?

It pains me, as a Star Trek fan, to say this…. If this movie flops, it may be the final nail in the coffin of the dead horse that we’ve been beating. “Even J.J. Abrams, who is our Lord and Saviour, could not save Star Trek,” the Paramount executives will say. And maybe, just maybe, some overlooked script for a new space opera will get a second chance. On the other hand, if the movie is a success—and I suspect it will be, because it does look like a good movie—then the Star Trek franchise will have wind in its sails, but it won’t be Star Trek anymore. It’ll be the Abrams Science Fiction Franchise, Based on Star Trek Created by Gene Roddenberry. And all those franchises-that-could-be that wait in the wings for their turn will have to wait much, much longer.

To be clear, I‘m not saying Star Trek is definitely dead. I just don’t think that “any Trek is better than no Trek.” I‘d rather have a brand new science fiction franchise try to gather fans, and wait until such time as the Executives-on-High deem the market ready for a real Star Trek film.

I’m worried that by fervently attempting to resurrect Star Trek as a movie franchise, we‘re dooming the fledgling future science fiction franchises. We’re starting to get into territory where movie studios greenlight more and more adaptations of comic books and sequels to franchise films, putting their money on “safe” bets with pre-existing fans rather than taking a chance on new, more creative directions.

P.S. Another Firefly movie please, Universal!

• [ 1 ] Yes, time travel—prepare for headaches.
• [ 2 ] Namely, Spock and Uhura. Yeah, that’s right.
• [ 3 ] Seriously, who are you trying to fool, Brian Herbert?
• [ 4 ] I know that by saying this, I’m just begging for a comment from the one guy out there who thought that Star Trek: Nemesis was the single best movie of all time. Bring it on.

Well here we are, the end of an era. Battlestar Galactica is over, which has made a lot of people very angry for various reasons.

Spoilers ahead.

I‘m too young to have seen the original Battlestar Galactica when it was on television, and I never watched the reruns. I’m not into it. The “reimagined” series ignited my interest, however, and I’ve watched the show since its miniseries became the backdoor pilot for a new television series.

To this day, my favourite episode remains “Kobol’s Last Gleaming”, the first season finale. It represents the best aspects of Battlestar Galactica’s storytelling techniques: the high stakes conflict, the spiritual and ethical themes interwoven into the story, and of course, the effortless use of the episode’s score to enhance the most emotional moments of the episode. Tonight’s finale was cast in a very similar vein to the first season finale, which is probably why I enjoyed it so much.

The show has received massive amounts of criticism in the last half of this season. To be fair, the Writer’s Strike caused the last season to be split in half, placing much more tension on the mid-season premiere than the writers had originally intended. From there, it was a slippery slope into the lands of Exposition, Retconning, and Plot Device that left many fans confused and upset. And I’d have to agree—the last episodes of season four, for the most part, are among the most terrible episodes in Battlestar Galactica’s run.

To the creative team’s credit, the finale did tie up most of the loose ends. It left just enough loose ends to keep things interesting—although it’s strongly implied that a “God” exists, we don’t learn exactly who Head Six and Head Baltar are—angels from on high? More importantly, we’re left wondering about the exact nature of Kara Thrace. Allusions to Mormon mythology aside, I understand those—like my dad—who are dissatsified with the lack of closure for Kara. But I wonder if an answer is actually superior to the question? Speaking of answers, however, I enjoyed the answer to the opera house vision. They dealt with that very artfully, mixing prescience with Cylon projection.

The first hour of the finale was just, in the vernacular, “frakkin’ awesome”. It was full of head-spinning action, Cylon centurions on both sides, old-school Cylons, and Baltar had a gun! Cavil had some great last moments, including when they almost had a chance for a Cylon-Human-Cylon peace.

I will never forgive Galen, no matter what Tigh says. And I will never sympathize with Boomer or forgive her for her choices. She had a chance for redemption until she kidnapped Hera.

Baltar, on the other hand, was more interesting. Right to the end he served his own self-interest—I have no doubt that he chose to go on the rescue mission to show himself that he could be heroric, and to save himself from being the pet of that annoying cult of his. I know I would have done the same thing in his place. Yet Baltar and Caprica Six manage to reunite and understand their place in “God’s plan” (if such a God exists). I loved the moment when Head Six and Head Baltar appeared to both of them.

The second hour was much like that part in Lord of the Rings between the end of the book and the last page—useless conclusion, in other words. Yes, it’s important for closure. I didn’t enjoy the idea that they would “abandon technology”—but whatever, I suppose if Lee thinks it’s a good idea, it’s got to be a good idea—right?

Overall, however, Battlestar Galactica’s final episode redeemed the series for the problems with the episodes preceding it. We received resolution to most of the major storylines. And we got some sweet special effects and amazing action scenes.

For those of who are reading this and haven’t watched an entire episode of Battlestar Galactica, you may be wondering why I watched this show. You may not even like “that sci-fi stuff.” You might think it’s uninteresting, or you might be passionately opposed to such “juvenile” tastes. The key to understanding a fan’s passion for Battlestar Galactica is to understand that it is science fiction—it’s the type of science fiction you get in novels by masters of science fiction, as opposed to the adventure-based space opera you find on television (sorry Stargate).

Science fiction is all about exploring ourselves, as humans, and our responsibilities as a species and to the universe. Battlestar Galactica showed us that science fiction television shows can be set in space, have killer robots, yet be relevant to current events. I’m not going to launch into an extended diatribe about how it tackled “relevant issues”—you can read blog posts aplenty about that, sure. If you doubt it, however, just remember that the cast of Battlestar Galactica were at a panel at the United Nations. Over the course of its four-year run, the series took a look at difficult issues about humanity—a laundry list would not do it justice.

Sure, Battlestar Galactica couldn’t keep everyone happy. That’s to be expected. Yet it resonated with enough people that it generated great debate. Yes, Battlestar Galactica is one of the best television shows ever because it made people think—not just about plot lines and character arcs, but about what it means to be human, what it means to evolve, and to question the nature of our world and our beliefs. Many television shows strive for such a legacy—few achieve it.

As I‘ve said previously, I’m tired of the repetitive fearmongering being done in the name of our “global warming” crusade. It’s another example of herd mentality exacerbating a crisis that it is supposed to be solving. Last century it was nuclear weapons, this century it’s global warming.

Well wake up people, and stop being so selfish! After all, we are not the only planet in this universe. There are many other planets out there that are heating up. In fact, I’ve “discovered” a dangerous new phenomenon that must be stopped! Universal warming.

Here’s how it goes. We constantly produce information. Information is useless without transmission; it only becomes usable when conveyed from one state to another (i.e., from person to person). Transmitting information requires energy. As energy is used, entropy in the system increases. To demonstrate, take talking for example. If you talk about something, you are transmitting information. This means you are increasing the net entropy of the universe. Everything you do increases entropy, unfortunately.

Why is entropy bad? Because entropy is the tendency of a system toward increasing disorder. As entropy increases, the amount of usable energy declines. Eventually we’ll suffer the heat-death of the universe and the end of all life as we know it!

This is a serious problem. If the universe ends, then Paris Hilton won’t be able to make any more movies, which means she’ll have to get a real job. We must all work together as a community to decrease the Earth’s universal footprint. The fate of reality depends on it1 My first recommendation is that Al Gore create a new documentary entitled An Incomprehensible Truth. That would be the best way to further spread this information to as many people as possible.

Let’s get on this, people!

Anyone else noticed this new iGoogle thing that Google has going for it?

What’s with the name? You would think that a company as creative as Google would be able to come up with a better name than something that—well, frankly, that sounds like a bad Apple rip-off. And this isn’t just Google’s problem. iWhatever has become the new “Whatever X” of our generation. I feel sorry for the poor letter—it’s not even uppercase! And it’s being attached willy-nilly to products and services just because it sounds cool.

In fact, if the current trend continues, we’ll run out of i’s to use in every day conversation! Soon conversaton wll look lke ths, because we wn’t have enough eyes to go around.

• wll be the end of cvlzaton as we know t.

But I digress. Anyone else tried iGoogle? It looks interesting. I use regular Google as my homepage because it is quick to load, but I think I will try out iGoogle for a week or two to see if I like having all this information at my finger tips better.

Often you’ll read one critic or intellectual or another say something along the lines of how Hollywood is destroying the movie industry, creating cheap flicks at the expense of “art” and “culture”. And as much as I am sometimes tempted to agree with this cynical evaluation of our entertainment industry, I can’t bring myself to jump on that bandwagon. I just can’t.

I have observed that more movies are “packaged” these days. What are “packaged” movies? Well, these are the hits that look and feel like the director simply sent in a form from a mail-order catalogue—he or she filled out the title and main characters, and the company sent back a pre-packaged movie: special effects, music, etc. Movies like Pirates of the Caribbean, Harry Potter, and—especially with its third installment—Spider-Man are packaged blockbusters.

Are packaged movies inherently evil? Does it make a movie bad? Of course not. I like each of those three movie series above—although none of them are particularly spectacular—but they aren’t moving and they aren’t cathartic. And sometimes you need that. Sometimes you don’t need a purging; you just need some action, some humour, and some explosions. The only reservation I carry is that it’s too reflective of certain negative aspects of our society—namely, this increasing dependence on pre-packaged items, like food, that we just buy in bulk at a grocery store.

There are the “indie” films, complete with festivals, to attempt to carry on the art-form that Hollywood has—so some say—left behind. The problem with this phenomenon is not its goals, but rather, its demographic. The people who go to film festivals are precisely the type of people who like the films at film festivals. Which brings us to the hilt of the matter: the audience. Do people really want art? Or do they want entertainment?

The answer has and always will be both, and this is why I can’t endorse those pessimistic and pretentious pundits who pretend to put-down Hollywood. I’m going to use Shakespeare as an example. Take King Lear, for instance. King Lear is one of my favourite plays and one of Shakespeare’s best. It has pithy intellectual themes, and as a tragedy, is carefully written to move us to pity and compassion for the terrible tribulations of the hero, Lear, and his descent into madness. But Shakespeare was no fool. His plays weren’t wildly successful just because of these themes—they were successful because they were also entertaining. King Lear has humour aplenty—ribald or otherwise—and that’s why it has endured 400 years’ worth of Eberts. If the jokes seem stale (or you just can’t get them), it isn’t because they’re silly. They just get lost in translation; the language differences over the past four centuries make Shakespeare a tad hard to understand at times.

Yet I digress. Shakespeare and his ilk knew something about how to get a crowd’s attention, and how to leave a part of their work with the crowd when the play was done. That’s why the movie industry isn’t in “decline”. This perception of decline is just a misinterpretation of the charts. We‘re changing all right, but we’re always changing—it’s what culture does. It’s a reaction to the last two decades of increasing technological development. Technology affects movies faster than it does stage or books (and to a degree, music) because of the visual nature of the medium; advanced technology means advanced movie-making techniques. Technology has developed more in the past two decades than it has in the past century. And it shows no signs of plateauing, so we have to be ready for more change.

Culture is dead. Long live culture!

Great Bird of the Galaxy, forgive me.

It was just a matter of time, of course. My willpower is far from legendary or anything, and I knew that I was going to “cave”, as Cortney so eloquently puts it, sometime or another—I fully intended to, since once I‘m done high school I’d like to preserve my connections with my friends through whatever means available. And, as much as I hate to admit it, social networking sites help.

So I joined Facebook.

That’s right. I’m tired of those snarky little “I’ve added you as a friend on Facebook…” emails finding their way into my inbox, begging me to get an account. Fine. I surrender. Now stop sending me emails. (I have a feeling I‘m going to continue getting them anyway, since that’s the nature of the beast).

However, an interestingly paranoid Orwellian thought occurred to me. As our technology increases, the government institutes increasingly complex methods of keeping track of us. The day is not far off when some sort of “national ID” system will be implemented. We already have several numbers associated with us—driver’s licence, SIN, health card, etc. Naturally people start to get paranoid about the government having access to all our private information.

Yet most people have no problem giving out their private information to sites like Facebook. So this begs the question: what if a site, like Facebook, isn’t actually run by a private corporation? What if it’s a front for the government, a way of clandestinely gathering people’s private information? Someone in the government will eventually wake up and do this, if it isn’t already being done. It’s a great method of data-mining your citizens without their knowledge. After all, who are you going to trust? Facebook, or the government?

Facebook, obviously, because their lovely little “JOIN OUR SITE” emails means they care. So much. And they don’t charge you taxes, which I suppose contributes.

Note this well: I surrendered to Facebook. But I will never, ever join MySpace so long as there is a speck of breath left in this body. As far as I’m concerned, MySpace is still a scourge, a blight on the Internet, and its time will come. Until then, I’m just going to continue ignoring it and block all those idiots who try to hotlink my smilies.

As I continue to expand my boundaries of knowledge by reading and watching more books and movies, it occurs to me that there are some books/movies that are regarded as “classics” by culture, but that I‘ve never had a chance to actually experience the whole way through. An example of this is It’s A Wonderful Life—classic Christmas movie, but I guess because it’s been played over and over on TV so much, I never really sit down to watch it, so I’ve never seen the whole thing.

What are some books and movies that constantly pervade your life, but that you’ve never actually taken the time to read or watch in their entirety?