Herzfeld, Noreen. “Video Shootout.” The Christian Century, May 4, 2004. 22-23. Available at: http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=3049.

This 2004 article by Noreen Herzfeld argues that violent first person shooters (FPS) are linked to real world aggression, as exemplified in school shootings. The article begins with the case of a fifteen year old boy killing shooting tow of his classmates. Herzfeld emphasizes that the National Institute of on Media and the Family reported “96 percent” of boys grades four through twelve said they played video games on a regular basis. The article goes on to describe the increasingly violent and particularly bloody nature of the first person shooter from the early 80’s to today. The article cites a Japanese study which found a direct link between video game playing and aggressive thoughts.

Herzfeld then focuses her attention on the “training module” status of the FPS shooter. America’s Army’ a game published by the U.S military, is used as a recruiting tool, and is available for download from the army’s website. The author quotes Dr. David Grossman in concluding that that “Video games are strong on quick reaction to threats and weak on reasoned response” and that it emphasizes a killing spirit.

The author then imposes a philosophical argument into the real harm done by these games. Herzfeld notes that from a “Kantian of utilitarian ethical perspective, one has neither used nor hurt another person.”

The article concludes with a final point on the world of video games being a lonely place, citing the tendency for video games to emphaisiz3 ones need to survive on their own, and deemphasize collaboration.

Reaction:

While this article brings up various sound statistical reports, the authors is unable to convincingly attach them to her argument, and while much of the philosophical content of the article is intriguing and insightful for the most part this article is mostly speculation. The article also seems out of date technologically for its time, having been published as recently as 2004. The grasp of online multiplayer FPS environments is lacking, as it fails to comment on the highly tactical aspects of some online shooter environments. I agree with the attitude that FPS emphasizes a killing spirit and the “shoot first ask questions later” agenda. However, I don’t think this establishes a link with violent action in the real world, or Herzfelds argument that it desensitizes one to real violence.

The writings of Gill and Laird serve as acute examples of the emotional and cognitive impact of ritual within a religious or social environment. When incorporated with the writings of Penny, there are similarities between the physicality of a ritual and the performance within a virtual space.

It is helpful to begin in charting how these separate authors approach examining the real world and its interaction with ritual space. It is striking how Penny and Laird’s draw similar lines when delineating the separate approaches to looking at ritual. Penny is speaking of course of examining “digital social practice” within a virtual environment. He describes the machine-centric and user-centric outlook. The machine centric aspect focuses on the autonomous aspects of how responses can be mechanically derived, while the user centric approach focuses on the behavior and experience of the user. Laird draws a similar line when approaching ritual therapy within a family setting. The first approach is machine-centric, with the therapist working to “prescribe a ritual to be enacted by an individual or family members without necessarily calling upon their interpretations, meanings, or cognitive understandings of their own ritual life”. This approach is not interested in the user’s behavior or experience. The next approach echoes Penny’s user centric outlook, as it is concerned with “exploring and interpreting [ones] ritual life”(Reader in Ritual Studies, 363).

Having drawn these similarities in analytic approach, one is now able to examine the joint impact of a ritual climate within a virtual environment, and how physical inaction within this space ha a profound impact on the effectiveness of realism within the space. Gill describes disillusionment as playing a significant role within many male adolescent initiation rituals. Many of the boy’s fears and beliefs are played upon and revealed as an illusion to them. This enhances their awareness of the real world application of their religion, and the importance of their role within the religious community. The must swear not to unveil the secrets of their rituals to the uninitiated, and must themselves then carry on and conduct the often violent and frightful ritual. Boys go from a state of reverence and fear of the unknown to a responsibility for upholding what the traditions of what they now know to be false, as within the Hopi religion. This relationship between the real world and the magic circle of a ritual space is discussed in Penny’s work on the physicality of a virtual space, observing the “degree of literalness of simulation depends substantially upon the precision with which bodily behaviors germane to the task in the real world can be accommodated and measured in a simulator environment”(First Person, 78). Both of these example place great importance on the accurate physical representation of the ‘real’ within the virtual or ritual ‘unreal’ environment.

THE SPIRITUAL CYBORG by Erik Davis explores the spiritual synthesis of man and machine, and two spiritual approaches to looking at the human mind as if it were a computer. These two religious movements or ideologies are Gurdjieff’s Fourth Way and Hubbard’s Scientology.

Davis lays groundwork of the article by discussion the history of mechanization and the role it has played in religion, discussing specifically automata, mechanized gods of ancient and medieval times, to current neuro science and gene work. He summarizes that what we view as the world and our ideas of free will may be completely obliterated as man becomes more like machine.

The bulk of the article discusses two separate religious theologies surrounding the idea of man as a machine. The first analysis revolves around Gurdjieff’s Fourth Way; based around the axiom Man is a Machine. Gurdjieff incorporated modern psychology and synthesized Buddhist and other esoteric works to create this new way. He believed the human soul was detached from the mechanized human form and could be separated and fully enlightened, but feared that man has “lost their potential for recognizing and realizing the deeper levels of consciousness”. Davis explores the sense of no-self here within Gurdjieff’s writings, and it’s similar to the Buddhist belief of there being no atman, or self.

Davis then goes on to discus scientology, and the formation of the texts surrounding it. Scientology also looks at the human mind as a computer, which when running optimally thinks rationally and solves problems logically. The mind computer fails to function when clogged with memories and thus needs to be auditing, coming to a state of “clear”.

Reaction:

Discussing the symbiotic relationship between man and machine brings up many spiritually driven ideas. The section of the article which I though worked towards this greater discussion was when Davis toted neuro-scientists as the trailblazers in a new way of looking at the body. The thought that the entire human body could be reduced to a procedural simplicity could indeed change the way one views the concepts of life death and free will. Davis notes Nietzsche’s meaningless void created by modern society.

I have much more to say but NO TIME to say it!

4/7 Readings, Symbols.

April 7, 2008

The readings this week deal generally with the human reaction to words as symbols, and how an emotional reaction is generated by the symbols involved. The readings dealing with virtual reality explore how entering these text based programs into the human space, whether it be through simple animation or a complicated installation art piece, enhances or changes how a human reacts to them.

The Turner reading, in ritual study, informs these more artistic or theoretical readings with some social science observations, and are able to give greater depth to the relationship between visual stimulation and the meaning within those symbols and the greater impact they have within a ritual.

Turner observes what he calls the ‘dominant symbols’ as having constancy and consistency throughout a ritual or many rituals. They create a constant from which more specific characteristics can be derived or attributed. The dominant symbols create a baseline. In modern virtual spaces, a dominant symbol is a necessity. There needs to be a link from the created virtual space to the real world environment in which the user sits. The symbol could be a simple avatar or a username in simple applications where little performative action is needed to progress. However, a more complicated system requires a more complicated use of symbols to accurately and effectively depict the environment.

Such a symbol could be what Douglas introduces as ‘the Fifth Business” the character one meets within a game who serves as a guide. These characters are rarely fully developed complex narrative characters, but rather play a flat role with implied significance placed upon them by the user. An example observed in class is Navi, the small fairy which guides Link trough “Zelda”.

There is a dependent tow way relationship between the user and the fifth business. The user is dependent upon the character to provide meaning and initiative within the new foreign virtual space, and the fifth business character is dependent upon the user to perform in order for the symbol to have any use or any meaning.

            This brief news article centers around the controversial use of digitally rendered copyrighted and government protected sites or landmarks within the virtual world of “Second Life”. The bulk of the article centers around Telstra (an Australian multi-media corporation) rendering images of Uluru and the Sydney Opera House on its second life island “The Pond.” The Uluru, formerly known as Ayer’s Rock, is a sight considered sacred by the aboriginal people of Australia and visits and photography of certain sections of the landmark are highly restricted by both the aboriginal people and the national park service. The controversy surrounds the ability of second life participants to view the landmark in a much greater capacity and with more freedom within the digital space. Some restrictions have been put in place similar to real world legislation within the virtual space, such as prohibiting the ability to fly over the rock or walk on it. The Anangu people argue however, that a visitor may be able to view sacred areas of the rock which are prohibited in real life. Similar issues are raised concerning the Sydney Opera House, as the likeness of it is copyrighted, and therefore its rendering within second life brings with it much controversy.

            This controversy raises interesting questions concerning where the border between the sacred and the digital can be drawn within the new highly interactive and beautifully rendered digital space such as Second Life. The fact that this rendering of the holy landmark within a digital world is raising alarms gives great weight to the argument that these digital spaces have legitimacy in a spiritual sense, and that the meaning of a landmark can extend beyond its geographic space within the real world, and exist simultaneously within tow worlds.

            Walker and Bogost’s writings for these week focus on different applications of an online sense of community and the individual role within that community. Sack’s technical work analyzes how such environments can be viewed visually, and organized in order to simplify that visual representation in order to use the collected information.

            I found Sack’s work to be the most applicable to religious ritual of the three, as it was able to give a visual reference point from which to analyze the effectiveness and fluidity of a virtual conversation, and in doing so, can give insight into how an online church or religious ritual can be effective or ineffective.

            If one were to analyze the content of the other pieces; “Online Caroline” and the Howard Dean online campaign through Sack’s “conversation map” two very different images would appear. “Online Caroline” is very limited in scope, as Walker points out. There is very little two way interaction between the digital character and the user, rather the majority of the procedural substance lies in the users initiation of and reaction to the events unfolding in the ‘life’ of Caroline. It is very similar to a cyber-drama in the sense that the participant is little more than a bystander to the events taking place. If one were to map the conversation between Caroline and the user using Sack’s software, it may look similar to figure 20.7a. Where there are distinct hubs of response, these being Caroline’s actions. It may be obvious that in fact online Caroline is not a multi user networked conversation while the user is participating, so the Sack software may not be completely applicable. However, it is interesting to apply the lens of Sack’s conversation map in order to draw conclusions about the effectiveness of the procedural aspects of the game. As walker points out, “there is no space for [one] to act on [their] own initiative in ‘Online Caroline’(304), and ‘Caroline doesn’t necessarily take my advice…”(306).  These shows that while ‘Caroline’ may appear interactive; it is only activated by the user’s presence. This is where I have a problem with Walker’s interpretation of the experience. In the end of the experience, Caroline mysteriously disappears, perhaps even dies. In summation Walker states “If I hadn’t have read, she’d have lived.” (308). I argue that if walker hadn’t have read, Caroline wouldn’t have lived at all, and stopping the experience half way through would have suspended her existence. The experience was completely dependent on the user to move.

            The Howard Dean experience would have looked very different through Sack’s Conversation map, similar to figure 20.3a. In which a large amount of discussion topics were highly interacted between many users. The problem with the procedure, as Bogost’s points out, is that it remained little more than that; a procedure. The aspects discussed were little invested in, and as a result the campaign failed. This failure is visualized in Sack’s figure 20.6a, a “shallow conversation” in which many topics were discussed, but with limited interaction, not thoroughly explored.

            Using the lens of Sack’s conversation map could be a very useful tool in fine tuning an e-church service similar to one I have looked at in a previous article. Its essential flaws were a lack of central focus and the infiltration of disruptive outsiders. A conversation map could visually plot the semantic flaws within the service which allow such outside intrusion, and the social network and theme schematics would allow the programmer to tune the points at which diversion occur, and not allow them to exist within the social frame.

Religion Journal; Now Available, Spiritual Connection on the Internet

By Mandy Sink

Sink’s article highlights new web based programs available from the Mission San Xavier del Bac in Arizona. The mission is now offering an alternative to taking a trip out to the desert to place a prayer request at the feet of the statue of St. Francis Xavier. One can simply e-mail the prayer request, confidentially, and it will be “printed out and tucked beneath or pinned to the blanket draped across the supine figure…” Father Gaa points out that the intention is to “connect with God anywhere” but also specifies that the programs for those who are “infirm or simply cannot afford to make the trip.”

            Sink includes the commentary of Brenda Basher, an academic in the field of religious Websites. Basher notes that where some see a loss of religion within a virtual field, others see “new possibilities”. Sink also notes that after the September 11th attacks there was a spike in the number of people going online to send prayer requests, as well as approximately 28 million people using the internet in 2001 to look at religious and spiritual material.

Commentary:

It seems that these new services available are well intentioned, as highlighted by Father Gaa. There intended use is to extend a version of the pilgrimage to those who are physically and financially unable to do so. But in this seemingly generous proposal there is a problem. Perhaps making in making it so easy to place a prayer request at the feet of St. Francis Xavier, more and more people who previously would have made a struggled pilgrimage to the mission now simply consider themselves unfit and do so over the internet. IT seems to take the strife and struggle out of worship, something frequently associated with the Christian faith.

Liminality in a Virtual Space

February 25, 2008

The papers written by Vesna, Durkheim and Turner all emphasize the requirement of a community to define a space or to give it life. In a religious context and in Durkheim’s view this can be called a churched, and is what delineates magic from religion. The need to transition into this community from the profane into the sacred id highly emphasized in Turner’s piece and the term liminality defines the space in which one exists while in transition from the profane to the sacred.

            Vesna’s virtual networking projects and socially constructed online environments fit the trends defined by both Durkheim and Tuner as a rite of passage, and the changes an individual goes through during that rite. What Vesna describes as the initial chaos of his unaltered environment in n0time seems to be a state of Turner’s liminality, a space in which the masses of unrefined humanity are able to impact the greater structure (envisioned as the abilities of a court jester in said article).  This is illustrated geometrically in the tensegrity structure which is characterized by its “elastic interval geometry”.

            The effectiveness of both a ritual and a virtual communal space such as n0time are dependent on collaboration. In one instance this collaborative space is a church, the other a virtual environment. It can be argued that the roles taken within each of these spaces is not all that different. This returns us to that sense of liminality and communitas as discussed thoroughly in Turner’s piece. The paradox that Turner seems to face in the discussion is how can the seemingly marginal or lowly social figures play such and influential role in the formation and continuation of a hierarchical social structure such as a religion or in a more applied circumstance, a virtual network. These spaces are again dependent on collaboration. And collaboration exists at the time of liminality, when these singular figures are working to better themselves or prove them worthy to pass from the profane to the sacred. Vesna’s highly interactive environment works both in physical space, determining the time participants spend working on their mema driven avatars, and within the virtual space itself, charting the interaction and development of these figures. It is the addition of a new identity in this virtual space that necessitates a sort of proving ground, or a suspended time (made possible by “virtual un-ending time’) to develop ones most sacred properties.

            It is in this new virtual space (the internet or MMORPGs or the like) that time seemingly stands still, and a more complete application or ritual rites of passage are allowed to a higher number of participants, as they are not limited by real world time. IT has become a growing network and developing within it are classes of participants. The structure of these participants directly impacts the structure of the collaboration or the network. These new virtual spaces have become proving grounds within a constantly changing interface unconstrained by real world space time.

 

           Interaction fiction is one of the earliest and most interesting forms of virtual reality. Simply using a text based interface, it is able to create a seemingly limitless world in which the “player” or secondary author of the piece is able to move about with complete freedom. This is in fact an illusion, as the parameters of the program determine where a player can go and what they can do. While this may seem similar to the contemporary adventure video game such as Tomb Raider or something similar, there is one key difference, and that is that fact that the player is contributing to the work through their text input into the program. This distinction seems to put IF on a different theoretical level than a game, in which ludology can directly apply; rather it has a deeper interactive element. Much of the player input could lead to no productive ends and the program remaining unresponsive; however, it is this illusion of input and a final product consisting of both the programmed language and the human input that leads to a work of fiction that has two authors. One author, the programmer, has complete knowledge of all aspects and possibilities within the game, while the second author, the “player” has at the beginning of the text no knowledge of the environment but at the end has reached a complete understanding of the entire virtual world. It is this learning and discovering aspect of things that separates the text based environment from the visual, movie like environments of modern games as well. In an adventure based third person game one can simply walk around the provided space to see all that can be seen. In an IF there is a fourth wall in which the player must choose what they feel is important to explore, and those explanations are limited or enhanced by the text. There is no pre-determined order of events one must pass through in a linear fashion, but rather one must discover this order through a chaotic world in order to continue, and multiple paths may be taken.

            This summation of an IF could be compared to a biblical read, or biblical interpretation. While one is not able to physically input data into the bible and generate a new read out, the quest to find answers within the bible involves theological dead ends and correct paths to simpler answers. Eric Eve’s IF work “All Hope Abandon” draws on this comparison, inserting biblical text into an adventure based IF.
   A Religious ritual could be looked at in a similar manner, using designated input or preprogrammed activity to reach a desired outcome.

            Eric Zimmerman’s article “Narrative, Interactivity, Play, and Games” confines the possibilities and abilities of procedure within a game to the parameters of the narrative. His assessment of the “game-story” focuses highly on contextual evidence surrounding the narrative of a game and has little to do with the construct of the game itself. He begins his approach by claiming chess as a narrative form. He categorizes it within his own definition of a narrative as having “a beginning state (the setup of the game), changes to that state (the game play), and a resulting insight (the outcome of the game)”(First Person, 157).  This is simply a cultural contextualization of the game chess, and glosses over the parenthetical “game” aspects of chess which are its essential make-up. The narrative quality of chess is only visible in a narrative context, and is peripheral to the construction and execution of the game. What Zimmerman puts in parenthesis to emphasize and ground his point are the only points of chess worth looking at, the composite pieces. The ’setup’ and surrounding rules limiting piece movement constitute the entire framework of the game, and the only options available. So it seems trivial to place importance on the game play as a narrative form if there are limited moves one could make. There is not a limitless narrative structure to work from with character driven decision. This brings up another important objection to Zimmerman’s paper. In his rhetoric, he makes it seem as though the chess pieces are in themselves characters developing a story line. It is important to remember that a chess game has been authored by now one, and is simply a procedure being carried out within a set of determined parameters. There is no intention or story-arch within a chess game. A game of chess could be over within a matter of minutes if a master is set against a novice. IT is simply ones control of the procedure and an understanding of the limited possibilities which determine the “course” of a game of chess.

            The distinction between a player driven medium and an authored medium is important when hoping to apply narrative to a game. Zimmerman states “perhaps all narratives can be interactive, but they can be interactive in different ways”. This statement is completely false. A narrative novel in the traditional sense leaves no room for interaction. There is an authored story that has one beginning, and one end, and nothing the reader can do will change that narrative structure. It is naïve to believe that skipping ahead in the story or reading it backwards or something strange as such is going to change the novel itself. It is simply unattached from the reader in any procedural sense, and has no manipulative quality.

            John Cayley’s micro-study of the new medium of hypertext and the dissection of sentence structure to the pixels constructing the letter takes the approach appropriate to that of game study. It takes a ‘new medium’, that of hypertext and asks essential questions about a tools impact on what it creates: “do the constraints that are imposed on the manipulation of pixels in order that they produce the outlines of letters tell us anything about those letters or the words which they, in turn, compose?”(First Person, 208). This question, re-figured, could constitute the essential question in analyzing the impact or meaning of a game: “Do the constraints that are imposed on the manipulation of player options in order that they produce the decisions available to a player tell us anything about those decisions or the game which they, in turn, compose?”