Assignment 4 Final: Why I'm posting on 4chan (Even though I don't want to)

I don't like spitting into the void and hoping you hit something, anything. It's pointless, a waste of time, and will generally get you trolled on the internet. To a certain extent, one could claim that even posting on a blog, which is likely lost within the 126 million other blogs, is more or less the same thing. The problem is, though, that it’s not really the same thing. As far as the internet and its ephemeral nature is concerned, blogs are relatively permanent. Short of server moves or entries being taken down, what’s posted up there stays. The downside to this, though, is that a blog is isolated in its webspace. Unless you have other bloggers or websites linking to you, no one sees your work. That’s not very web 2.0, and it’s why I haven’t posted my finalized image to my blog.

No. Instead, I return to the void from the opening sentence. The void, in this case, is 4chan (Note: For the love of whatever you hold holy, 4chan is not work safe. Not even on the work safe boards. You have been warned.) Established in 2003 as an English-speaking equivalent to 2chan, 4chan is a series of different image boards, each with a different topic. While they began with a single board (/b/, Random), it has since burgeoned to 50 different image boards. Each of these boards are largely unregulated and nearly completely anonymous. It’s also one of the Web 2.0-iest sites on the internet.

Web 2.0 itself has a rather slippery definition. Wikipedia notes that Web 2.0 consists of websites that are focused primarily on the user, the user’s information, and sharing that information with others. Tim O’Reilly agrees roughly in his 2005 essay on the differences between programs based in Web 1.0 with those based on Web 2.0, noting that Web 2.0 programs such as Google are driven as much by the user as they are by the arbitrary requirements of the creator. It’s these definitions that 4chan embodies rather perfectly.

See, technically speaking, 4chan has absolutely no content of its own. Everyone on it, from the images to the links to the writing, is user driven. What’s more, it’s also consistently moving. The creator of 4chan, moot, recently gave a TED talk, where he noted that there are over 7 million monthly visitors and 700,000 posts a day. These are staggering numbers, and it’s a hint as to how large the audience is. Over 7 million anonymous users, each of whom is a potential audience member, go there. It’s because of them that lolcats and Rick Rolls exist (among other things).

It’s also because of them that I feel my image would be right at home, on at least the /v/ (video games) board. As an image board, it’s perfectly suited to my image (unlike, say, YouTube), and it consists of largely my target audience (people familiar with video games who may not have considered the avatar design). Additionally, as an anonymous board, there’s a chance that some real conversation could start up, or it could become a meme. On the other hand, because the boards move so quickly, there’s a greater chance of being lost in the noise. But then, that’s one of the risks inherent with spitting into the void.

In the gaming subculture, there's an interesting debate that always rages on. Due to their popularity, people like to wonder: Are games art? And if they're art, when did they become art?

It's actually an argument that's fairly close to my own heart. After all, I spend... probably too much time playing games, all told. Last night I spent at least three hours playing Scott Pilgrim vs the World, a movie/comic tie in that has some of the best sprite work for a game I've ever seen. So, having games declared and accepted as art would offer me a sense of validation that wouldn't suck. After all, a part of me really doesn't want to accept just how much time was wasted. And in fact, I do feel that certain games speak to a certain humanity, which in my opinion is the very genesis of art. That spark needs to be there.

However, I have a friend who feels that the argument doesn't matter. What's more, he argues that even if he does have to argue, he would disagree with me. While he also plays games, he argues that it's a ridiculous goal to try for art, and that instead we should just shoot for more games with excellent systems to play around with. He argues that because games are predicated on violence, largely due to the fact that violence is far more fun to perpetrate than giving in a digital environment, they cannot reach the levels that previous art forms have. That's a strong argument, and he has some fairly influential proponents for his view. (For what it's worth and because I can't let this slip by without some argument, the very notion that Ebert, of all people, would so off handedly dismiss a medium without wanting to participate is extremely galling. It's like the Wired article says, you need to actually participate in a game to excel.)

For what it's worth, not all games are art, largely due to the violence. It is, as Jenkins put it, often times banal. What's worse, you'll often have games where you can (and will) rip digital images in half. Then, during cutscenes, the main character will lament his violence and try to find more non-violent means. There's a disconnect there, and it's fairly difficult to avoid. Why would someone with so much power act hypocritically?

Ah well. At least we have Shadow of the Colossus. Now that's art.

YouTube is the worst thing in the world, even when it's related to getting the task at hand done. Rather than actually reading and commenting on the pieces at hand, I was reminded of a news article I had just read on Gizmodo about an Internet trailblazing competition (Start at one address, end up at somewhere completely different by browsing hyperlinks only. This article covers the competition more indepthly.) That article had a cool video. That video had a cool song, which in turn led me to learn more about Trololo. It is now a quarter to midnight o'clock and I haven't even touched the assignment technically.

Honestly, this is a great example (I think) of streaming, a special flow. YouTube's actually one of the best examples of this, arguably better than Google. In fact, in addition to offering a flow of information and potential related topics (as in the sidebar), YouTube embodies the four core issues that Danah Boyd discussed in her piece. Let's examine:

1. Based on the video you're currently watching, or videos that you have watched in the past if you have a user account, YouTube offers potential options on where to go next via a sidebar. These are options that are not only tangentially related via keywords, but have also gotten a large amount of views from other users. Therefore, each view has a purpose.

2. Videos, with their use of sound and images tend to be one of the more visceral, or engaging, mediums. YouTube deals almost exclusively with, you guessed it, videos.

3. The comments section allows users to speak their mind, strike up conversations, and generally act like assholes. These are largely pointless and vapid, but perhaps the same could be said of all comment sections. The important bit is that this allows people to interact more directly than the video sidebar.

4. Finally, YouTube will never send you away from YouTube on its own power. Unless it's to Google, which owns YouTube. Basically, if you look at YouTube, you're probably stuck in YouTube's nefarious grasps.

And that, good friends, is why YouTube is indicitive of our age of Web 2.0. Also why it is evil.

Oh, and I continued the thread from the first paragraph and ended up listening to ABBA songs. And Axel F, but mostly ABBA. Really, it was chaotic.

Things change

It's true! Evolution happens. And my project went through one last night.

A problem I was having with my project yesterday was that while I was progressing fairly nicely on the video portion, I wasn't exactly sure how I was hitting my message. So, as per Wendy's instructions, I decided to do a bit of focused user testing with some of my friends who are in the target audience (namely, people who are somewhat familiar with games).

Results were.... not good.

As the video went along, the audience was focused more on the technological advances rather than the character design itself. And quite frankly, I have neither the time nor the skills to focus a video better on that subject (On the other hand, I do have plans for how I would go about doing that and a working copy of iMovie. I suppose what I'm saying is that a video project that actually works for my goals is not out of the running forever.)

So, with that in mind, I was forced last night to re-tool my project with a fairly major constraint. Namely, time. Luckily, I hate sleep (no I don't) and I also have a working copy of photoshop. And so we come to my mock up, what I'm titling the Evolution of the Avatar. I feel it hits my point better, even if it's still a rough piece of work. That said, it is mostly done, requiring a bit more text and maybe a few more characters.

Troubles? Kind of.

Having actually sat down and started doing work, I have to say:

I'm not really having that many issues technology-wise. iMovie is actually a surprisingly user friendly piece of software for a movie editor. Most of it is just drag and drop, and pulling selections out are fairly simple. After learning how to import movie clips (sometimes I'm not a genius), everything else was more or less natural. Why anyone would use something else is completely beyond me.

That said, I'm not exactly running perfectly. It's putting together the various clips in a meaningful way that's kind of a pain. Have to keep in mind my purpose too, which is also a pain.

Otherwise? Everything's going smoothly.

EDIT: Oh wait here we are. Apparently iMovie doesn't like importing project files. So not quite as intuitive as it could be.

Return of the EDIT: And what's more, it looks like my version of iMovie is more recent and overall better. This is kind of a pain.