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Thank you for visiting my blog. I’m a scholar of television, film, and digital media, and the author of CINEMA OF CONFINEMENT (Northwestern University Press) and CAPTURING DIGITAL MEDIA (Bloomsbury Academic). I’ve published a variety of articles on film and television in journals published by Taylor & Francis. I am also a writer of fiction. All of my books can be viewed on www.tomconnellyfiction.com
Showing posts with label Digital algorithm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Digital algorithm. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 8, 2021

The Record Store Can Read My Desire

Damon Krukowksi's great book (and podcast) Ways of Hearing explores how digital media have transformed the way we hear. 



In the chapter on "power," he considers the difference between Spotify's "Discovery Weekly" and visiting a record store. Spotify's algorithm considers what you listen to, adapting to your tastes and likes. He notes, "At Spotify, the dream is to provide you with music without your participation-the algorithm will know what you want" (111).

 

 

But when we visit a record store, one has to navigate its space. As Krukowski states, "You adapt to it" (11). If you ever been to Amoeba in Los Angeles--clearly the case!

 

(Me at Amoeba Music)

By adapting to the store's layout, you might come across a surprise, maybe a record you hadn't thought about purchasing. This process involves your unconscious desire. As I explained in an earlier posting, the logic of desire operates on absence. The object cause of desire (what Jacques Lacan terms objet a) can never be satisfied.

 

 

At the same time, the object cause of desire sustains the psychical force of desire because it is unattainable. It is sometimes described as the real of one's desire. Real - meaning the impossible, or in this case, the stumbling block of desire. 

In a previous post on the gaze, I noted how cinematic forms can elicit our desire. Like the narrative and formal construction of a movie, the design and layout of a record store considers your desire. A record store is already designed for you to engage with it.

Not all stores will elicit your desire. But in my recent journey to Amoeba, the store reads my desire in how it displays its merchandise. It is not adapting to me (as Spotify does with Discovery Weekly), but is trying to elicit my unconscious desire in anticipating a surprise purchase.

 

 

But this raises a question: can algorithms such as Discover Weekly read your desire? In a podcast on the Lacanian Real with Todd McGowan, he argues they can't because they repeatedly tell you what you want.

I think McGowan's claim lines up with Slavoj Zizek's critique of technological singularity. For Zizek, singularity can't account for the unconscious. Likewise, algorithms don't know how to read our unconscious desire. 

Instead of a "surprise," (something unexpected which emerges from your encounter at a record store), you discover something new with Discover Weekly, which is based on your tastes. As Krukowski writes, "You find the answers you want to the questions you already know to ask. . . . This makes an ideal experience if all you want is what you want. But what if you're looking for something else?" (112). That "something else" is what Lacan call objet a which algorithms can not provide. 

Another way to think about algorithms is they operate on mastery. By contrast, a record store operates on both absence ("something else") and mastery ("all"). As you navigate the story, you try to master it. At the same time, what draws you into the store is absence (unconscious desire).

Sunday, May 6, 2018

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

I frequently screen Michel Gondry's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) for my film courses. The topic we often discuss is the film's relationship between new media and memory. Although the film came out in 2004, I think it still offers some insights into concerns of privacy and big data. 



A topic that I brought up with my students this past semester is the character of Patrick played Elijah Wood. To be short, the film is a science fiction love story that entails a recently separated couple Joel (Jim Carrey) and his ex-girlfriend Clementine (Kate Winslet) who erase their memories of each other by a company called Lacuna.  


Patrick works for Lacuna. While Patrick assisted Stan (Mark Ruffalo) with Clementine's procedure, he became attracted to her.  As a way to court Clementine, Patrick steals Joel's memory objects from Lacuna's office. 


Patrick stealing Joel's memory objects certainly addresses concerns of database breach. But Patrick's mining of Joel's memories is also similar to how digital algorithms can map and predict our shopping behaviors. In one scene, Patrick gives Clementine a gift which he stole from Joel's bag of memory objects of Clementine. Of course, Clementine is taken aback by the gift. Patrick seems to know exactly what she likes, even though they have only been seeing each other for a very short period of time.


Perhaps the most significant scene is when Patrick and Clementine are on the frozen lake. He recites some of Joel's memories about her.  Like the binary code of digital, Patrick is too perfect. And it is exactly this moment that Clementine loses her desire for Patrick.

Images for Ebooks - Amazon KDP Publishing

My first book, THE POSTCARD, has a bunch of images, and I had a hard time figuring out how to incorporate them into my kindle book when I pu...