eOS1 & High-Waist Pantalones

The world’s first emotional operating system was introduced in the science-fiction-romantic-comedy-drama Her (2013). The film depicts a future society, well-developed in technology, to accentuate the culture as opposed to replace it. For the most part anyway. When OS1–the most intuitive modern operating system–is introduced, our lonely introverted protagonist, who composes love letters for a career, falls madly in love. The film is oozing with quirkiness, and despite its cross-genre appeal, Her has a scent of its own.

Her Film

Aesthetically, the film is beautiful. It depicts a very realistic and stylish version of the near future, bringing in retrofitted styles and elegant technological advances.  Absent of chrome robots folding our clothes and spreading jam across our morning toast, Her paints a future that we could potentially live in. Fashion, for instance, is a key concept to represent the culture–taking on a style equivalent to the 1950s. High-waist pants become sexy and pastel-colored dress shirts are a comfortable and classy casual wear. The lines between engendered clothing are blurred, and the unisex appeal represents the progressive equality present in this future. Society, while optimistically portrayed in the film, is contrasted by the more serious topics of love and belonging explored in the internal conflicts of the primary characters.

Specifically, the growing complications of the human male and female computer relationship exhibit a basic human concern. What creates love? The conversations held between man and computer are engrossing and tender, truly romantic. Can love be a purely abstract concept, devoid of physical connection? As we are essentially islands beneath our skin, we can never grow to truly know the inside of another–every thought and emotion. Physical vicinity to other bodies does little to remedy loneliness, for being in a crowd can sometimes be the loneliest feeling of all. Happiness comes from within, so can love exist in one’s thoughts, in a vacuum? Or does there need to be a container?  A container affects content, perhaps limiting perceptions, as the female lover explains she is exploring and expanding her understanding more than her human male could ever gather. Despite the ideal world created by external society, where crimes do not appear to be prevalent and environmental and social issues appear solved, the individual turmoil over emotions persists. We live beside each other, but we are still alone in our skin.

Her is a beautiful composition of an unsolvable problem. Regardless of every technological or societal improvement to our world, the members of it will continue to carry their emotional weight. Happiness and love come from within, but we are limited by our human selves. That physical component, no matter how limiting, is beautiful.

Paper Books & Analog Clocks

Sci-fi-induced-idiocy has severely altered our perceptions of the future.

Chrome-plated floors, ceilings, and walls. Transparent touch screens with rapidly flashing data. Android housemaids. Flying cars. Strange blue foods consumed through a straw. While our view of the distant future may not be the cover of a discounted 1980s paperback sci-fi, much of our understanding of the future focuses on the technological change without a regard for aesthetics. As we progress into the future, new technology rises to replace the old–but we should not forget about the form of beauty it can take.

I do not believe anyone would argue paper books to be more practical than digital e-books. Digital books are more environmentally friendly (no need to chop down trees for paper) and more economically viable, for both the writer, publisher, and reader. There is little to no overhead to generate these books as no physical materials are required. This medium for a work enables the buyer to save money and the writer and publisher to share a great percentage of the profit, for no money flows into the creation of materials. The practicality is furthered by the ease of reading–as one could theoretically carry an entire library in one’s back pocket. Despite all of this, however, paper books still persist and will likely continue their existence in the coming years. There is something illogically satisfying about holding a paper book, bound and printed. Perhaps the smell of the paper? The bend of the pages? The light crackle of binding glue when pulling open the front cover? The ability to rip out pages, dog-ear the corners, and scribble broken thoughts in the narrow margins is what gives us the satisfaction. To mar a physical book and make it our own, to form a relationship with the book and have it be personalized for own agenda. It is the aesthetics that keep paper books alive.

Digital clocks are considerably more efficient than analog clocks. It is much easier to read a series of four numbers and know the exact time than deduce the approximation from twirling analog hands. Our cell phones bear the precise time from satellites. They adjust with time zones, appropriately switching with daylight-savings and leap-years. They are incredibly more practical in our daily lives, but that doesn’t mean we lose the watch around our wrists. Large analog clocks look beautiful when hanging from a wall. They are a work of art, equivalent to a painting, with a slight practical purpose. The toll of a bell-tower is no longer necessary to proclaim the time when we see it in the corner of our laptop screens. The beauty of that chime and consistent rotation of the time-bearing hands gives clocks an aesthetic value that cannot be replaced, despite technological changes in efficiency.

The future will be overridden with new technology, like driver-less cars and self-regulating homes to conserve energy, but the beauty of certain technologies will be conserved for the sake of aesthetics. Paper books and analog clocks, both beaten in efficiency by new inventions, will remain a part of our lives. Aesthetic value outweighs efficiency.

Is Your Blue My Green?

Imagine a conversation with an alien. An extra-terrestrial. A being foreign to your universe and nonexistent before this encounter. How would you communicate? Certainly he/she/it would not speak your language. Perhaps this being would not even understand the concept of verbal communication or be able to form words or perceive sound? Certainly you would struggle with these motor operations. Which gestures would you use? Could certain expressions be misleadingly inaccurate or unintentionally threatening? You would struggle to see eye to eye, assuming he/she/it even had one.

Perception is a pivotal stepping stone in establishing communication or forming a connection. In order to interact with the unknown, one must form an understanding of ignorance. A logical oxymoron, which is an oxymoron in itself, is coming to accept that one will never fully understand the perception of another. This acceptance helps to lay a cornerstone for a relationship to be built, as it is the only neutral ground in a sea of unknowns. There are many things that one cannot sense, and although one cannot perceive them, it does not mean they are nonexistent.

Light, for instance, is a matter only perceptible from certain sensory details. From radio waves to gamma rays, the electromagnetic spectrum of light leaves only a thin streak perceptible to the human eye. Between infrared and ultraviolet waves, the band of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet is all that is visible in the vast spectrum. These various waves operate across several frequencies, and from what science has given us, this is all we have been able to detect and understand.

But how can we be confident in our perceptions? Although, according to science, we, as humans, are of the same species, this does not mean that our perceptions are equal. Certainly we can examine the lens of our eyes, noting the curvature and ability to perceive labeled frequencies, but what if our sense of one color is different on an individual basis? For instance, what if my perception of green is your perception of blue? Plants trade color with the sky and it is perceived as normal. We both see the same in a different light, but can speak of it in the same sense. Of course, we can try to categorize visibility, by breaking it into pigment percentages or hexadecimals values, but that does not alter the initial sense.

In order to communicate and connect, two beings must find a sensory medium. As humans, that medium is primarily language–be it auditory or visual–but in order to connect with beings other than our species, we must be willing to move into new mediums, where we can come to understand that our perceptions will change and be different. We must learn to see, not just with the sensory feelings we possess, but in a manner that can be shared with the unknown. It is the ability to look beyond the physical, to put a finger on an abstract thought and follow a feeling.

It’s in the eye of the beholder.

Well, the perception of the beholder.

An Icelandic Audio Odyssey, Finally We Are No One

Before I understood maps or geothermal currents, I pictured Greenland as a land of trees, plants, and vegetation–greenery–and Iceland to be a frozen tundra, frigid and white–icy. This naivety led me to believe the opposite. The namesake of Greenland and Iceland are almost polar opposites, for while they are both near the North Pole, their climates are immensely varied. Iceland is a land of extremes–from volcanic thermal heat to icy glacial coldness. Despite the extremes, the small island has a fairly moderate and consistent temperature. It is a beautiful place filled with many natural wonders. It is a place for the imagination to wander and reflect. It is only appropriate that the nation has produced artists representing this personality.

múm is an Icelandic experimental music group. Adopting a dreamlike quality with their unique concoction of sounds creates a refreshing brand of music that resonates with an imaginative spirit. In their 2002 album, Loksins Erum Við Engin (Finally We Are No One), this creative sound pushes the listeners’ thoughts to places often untouched or forgotten, such as the ability to truly imagine and reflect from within oneself. Finally We Are No One is a playful odyssey of the subconscious. As as a whole, the simple but unique form of the art and music is found in the sound. The childlike voices reflect the peaceful innocence of exploratory thoughts. Like the naivety of a child, such as my ignorance surrounding the ecological states of Greenland and Iceland, the album celebrates these virgin thoughts, not tampered by adult actions and concerns.

finallywearenothing

When listening, the album elicits a unique feeling that is not often excited by music. It is not a “pump up” sound or nostalgic tune or bluesy act of sad emotions, but a gentle touch on more tender feelings. It draws upon the small things, subtle details and little sounds. It is pure and difficult to express in another medium. While the soft voices convey the pureness of innocence, the pattering of varied sounds embodies the minimal amount of emotion necessary to touch the listener. The slow cadence of the music is calming, putting the listener at peace to encourage introspection. It balances delicately on a small wave of feeling that moves between the small troubles and ripples of hope. It is ideal for reflection and cannot fit in varied forms, which leaves it appropriately perfect.

Finally We Are No One strips away the titles that  border one’s subconscious. Removing the clutter from the mind, it lets a gentle wave wash over tender thoughts and carry them to new shores.

A Style is No Means to a [Tr]end

Not only in fashion, but in technology, language, behavior, and design, there is a clear distinction between trends and style. Trends are always changing, but style is timeless. Specifically in fashion, trends change with the seasons. New lines of clothing roll out in advertisements as the trees lose their leaves. As celebrities set new bars and companies put out new lines, trends dictate the decisions of society. Perhaps a ploy of a consumerism, trends keep people spending their time and money on conforming to the latest change. New smart phones slip into our pockets with trivial changes in speed or new aesthetic value to the interface, new shoes slip onto our feet as the laces make minuscule alterations, and new words slip between our lips as Internet and TV icons develop fresh lingo. There are stages to this construct, from ignition to burning out. Initially, influential members of society, be them celebrities or anonymous people we cross paths with, set the trend. They update the ever-changing indicators of what is relevant. These individuals or groups hold an incredible power of suasion, and once they define the new “in”–be it with intention or not–the new line is set for the masses. The second stage in the life-cycle of the trend is acceptance. Once adopted by the general public–or a specific community–the trend becomes commonplace. Those who embrace it are seen as aware, and those who do not are irrelevant. The third stage of the trend is death. Trends typically have a short life, but the process of death may vary in length. Sometimes, trends may perish overnight, but in others, the death may be a slow process of decay. Those who are trendy know when a trend is on the decline and jump ship to avoid the look of ignorance. This is the stigma trends create.

Style deflects this.

Styles is a matter of personal choice. True style can withstand the test of time and conditions, and while it may be influenced by both, it is dependent on neither. Style, be it in any industry–fashion, behavior, or design–is a form of expression and art and something that is eternal. It is an outward display of personality and originality and gives a unique edge over the masses who conform to the current trends. Styles cannot be “out,” and therefore, cannot ruin an image. In a broader sense, it is an immortality and speaks louder and stronger than any trend. While trends are means to an end, style is a sustained source of identity. Developing a style is a practice of developing character and forming something that cannot be destroyed. Although many styles may be created in physical mediums–things that can be lost or destroyed–the spirit behind the idea lives on.

Invest in style, it doesn’t go ‘out.’

Arachnid Architecture

A small part of me dies when I see something being destroyed. Watching a vase shatter, a tree being cut down, a city laid to waste. When hiking through a forest, where spiders have woven their webs between branches, letting them dangle overhead or in my face, I cannot bring myself to tear them down.

Spiderwebs are spun to capture insects, to entangle them in their adhesive silk until the weaver of the web comes to devour them. It is essentially a death trap, a weapon, and a prison, but so beautiful. Perhaps the purpose of the spiderweb is not important, but the design and construction of it are what matter. Spiderwebs are an architectural feat of natural art. A sturdy and intricate web is spun by dozens of tiny threads, coordinated to enact a single purpose of entanglement. The beauty of all these small parts working together, orchestrated by an eight-legged mastermind, is spectacular. To me, it is like a wonderfully-designed building,  but a living and breathing monument artistically crafted with intention.

Spiderwebs are not cobwebs. Rather, cobwebs are former spiderwebs gone dormant. Merriam Webster defines a cobweb as “the threads of old spider webs that are found in areas that have not been cleaned for a long time.” Cobwebs are ancient  structures built and abandoned by spiders. To compare, spiderwebs are like modern structures–such as the Eiffel Tower or Empire State Building–whereas cobwebs are ancient ruins, such as the Mayan Pyramids or Great Wall of China. As these webs are strung with individual threads to create a collective piece, when these pieces are combined, entire metropolises can be formed.

spiderwebs

As networked beings, spiderwebs should appeal to our natural tendencies. Our bodies are a system of complex networks–with veins and blood-vessels, complex organ systems, muscles, etc–we travel across lands on networked routes–highway systems, rail-lines, flight paths–and most of our world is a series of webbed connections–water pipes, electric wires, cable lines. It is only logical that we are drawn to interact in webs, especially in the Information Age and opportunities created by the Internet, the world’s largest web. Social networking sites embrace our webs of social connections–our networks. Spiders embrace networks as well. They take advantage of the potential power provided by their webs and rely on them for survival. As humans, we must also rely on our networks. We need to be connected with others, not only for physical support–such as transport, utilities, etc–but for social and emotional fulfillment. Webs are beautiful things, and it is a travesty to lose them. Even if they are spiderwebs.