I had my conference on Sunday. There were things we should have done differently, but overall, I'm incredibly proud of the program we put together and the energy we generated. I am particularly proud that our plenary was about Environmental Justice and Energy Democracy, and one of our final sessions was about Rare Earth Minerals and the role that plays in our energy transition. (And because I couldn't get enough of that topic, I went into a webinar the day after that talked that issue as well. Please watch, it was awesome and thought provoking.) And I get to check off a box on a life goal list for having also included a session on organizing--and libraries!
I'm coming to my regularly scheduled programming in good conscience. I complain bitterly about how the universe is sometimes set against me, but in this case, I think my timing is working out well. I was healed up enough to limp around in a boot, and while I felt it that day--my weakest point? The calf muscle on the affected leg--I was able to keep up, and emboldened to walk around two days later for my annual physical. (And where do I feel it today? My outer and inner thighs. Walking--who knew?) I'm grateful to my sisters and husband for giving me the time I needed to heal up.
As promised, I reformatted my phone and computer the next day. The phone was done in less than an hour, and I'm proud of myself for realizing that I could use my power cord to transfer data from my Surface to my phone. (I know, that doesn't sound like much, but when someone asked me to do that a decade ago, I had no idea what they were talking about, and I certainly didn't have the cord.)
The Surface was another story, and that was in large part because I wanted to physically back up some of my files. I think some people will think that's quaint, but I needed to be sure that all would be well, and I wasn't sure that they wouldn't be lost off of the cloud as I reset the computer. Paranoid? Maybe, but I've lost too much over the years to risk it now with valuable files.
Hours of work, but it was worth it. The computer seems to be running more smoothly now, and it's nice to have so few things on my phone. (But it would be even nicer if I could remove more. Why is Samsung forcing me to keep the browser and store? Yeah, I know why, but still.) I am eagerly awaiting my new keyboard tomorrow--this one is eight years old--and then I'll have, as far as I'm concerned a new machine.
I've gone through all of this to simplify my digital existence and get back to my real life. After spending so much time with this machine the last few weeks, today I ordered four books, with a few more in queue at the next paycheck (not counting the one I just ordered for my niece yesterday). In the last few weeks, I've actually managed to read four books, and in the last month, eight. They were my lifeline when I was lonely, overworked, and uncomfortable.
It would have been very nice, and in some ways more convenient, to have had the internet I remember from ten years ago during that time, but that internet is gone. That internet was monetized out of existence, and it doesn't make sense to romanticize it too much. The people who wrote good things, took pretty pictures, and made engaging videos very quickly wanted an exit strategy that would mean, really, that they wouldn't have to do those things. The blogs and websites--even social media accounts--that I liked were always the bait for something else. I didn't know what it was, but I don't think those bloggers, writers, photographers, videographers, and even commenters knew, either, except that it was something that should "generate income".
There's a world in which, maybe, that could have worked for some sites and people, but that world wouldn't contain AI-generated slop. Because that has ruined the value proposition of the World Wide Web.
People know this but they don't understand it: the internet is older than I am. But while people were using message boards when I was in grade school and really into email when I was in college, it wasn't until I was a young adult that the internet became something everyone needed to have, and that was because of the Graphical User Interface--that's GUI to you--that is the World Wide Web. Being able to, basically, attach graphics to hyperlinks changed everything. It's not an exaggeration to say that the World Wide Web was the killer app of the internet.
But I find myself groaning when I look at internet art now. Even if it isn't clearly generated by AI, it's quite possibly generated by it, especially if the "production values" are very good. Whenever someone posts a picture these days, I always wonder if it's real. (And have people already started interrogating definitions of reality and authenticity, the way they do "natural" and "artificial" food? I'll sit that inane argument out, thanks.) The whole thing makes me want to engage less and less with the kind of sparkly content that used to be so exciting a decade ago. And that's sad.
I expect to be reading a lot more books. Hopefully I can still find people to talk about them with.
Deb in the City
