Internet

Marshall McCluhan Would Disagree by Akira Ohiso

I love the analog comment on one of our DIY fliers, especially when related to Marshall McCluhan because he once said, “I don't necessarily agree with everything I say.“

Richard Dawkins coined the term “meme” in his 1976 book The Selfish Gene. He wrote:

Memes (discrete units of knowledge, gossip, jokes and so on) are to culture what genes are to life. Just as biological evolution is driven by the survival of the fittest genes in the gene pool, cultural evolution may be driven by the most successful memes.

He also said, “The meme for blind faith secures its own perpetuation by the simple unconscious expedient of discouraging rational inquiry.”

The digital meme reassures in uncertain times but is a closed feedback loop. A good meme is humorous with some verity and the viral apparatus of social media. It shuts down discourse and is circulated in algorithmic vacuums of like-minded avatars. It is a salve for confirmation bias, a brief conclusion, a foolproof amuse-bouche for the choir.

McCluhan, himself, said, “Faced with information overload, we have no alternative but pattern-recognition”

But patterns change and the simple absolute meme has a shelf-life, vulnerable in its oneness to the cruel tick of time.

In “The End of Memes or McCluhan 101,” an article in Medium,

Memes are “democratic” and psychographically weaponized: Unlike one-size-fits-all propaganda, you get to choose between Coke or Pepsi. Memes are meaningless and you can’t argue with them. Just like television. Just do it! (Don’t,think about it.)

To use McLuhan’s own terminology, memes have now become obsolete. By saying this, McLuhan was pointing to a special kind of death, a state in which something is everywhere but is no longer psychologically consequential. Walking dead, if you will. Memes today are like George Romero’s zombies coming to eat our brains, and increasingly, we all recognize this. We are “getting out” and perhaps even being “woke” as we wise up to the end of memes.

Bodies by Akira Ohiso

We walk through the zoo with a full day of sun. Lots of children are on school break. Muslim families enjoyed a day out after Ramadan. Tourists wear gear with the word “Seattle” on everything. Diversity is a wonderful concept, except when people talk to each other. An armed security guard conspicuously wanders through the Sahara.

Many exhibits are devoid of animals; some are cared for by staff, and others are out of sight, sleeping or hiding from noisy humans. I have always found zoos depressing, even with conservation missions and outcomes. We jostle for glimpses of nearly extinct species seemingly bored and deprived of stimulation; a toucan stares at painted greenery on a wall, a monkey hangs on the Truman Show netted limits of their rubber jungle, and birds sit on branches closer to the crosshatched sky.

My kids are engaged, and the exhibits spark curiosity. They are doing something analog, which gives me so much joy. “I have almost 10,000 steps, and it’s still only early afternoon.”

As Jonathan Haidt said in his new book The Anxious Generation, “Screens lead us to forget that our physical bodies matter.”

Today, we feel our bodies.

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☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️ by Akira Ohiso

Another Kennedy running for president feels like I went into a time machine with no hot tub - Zabruder, Sirhan Sirhan, Cuban missiles, Marilyn Monroe and Chappaquiddick. I was fed images of an American narrative by an apparatus peppered through Saturday morning cartoons, school assemblies, parades and the omnipresent TV.

James Earl Ray assassinated MLK on this day in 1964.

Weather app: A cloud emoji marks every hour of the day. Moisture is granular—gray and slate-colored garages blend into the cloud emojis—the light fools string lights on timers.

I adjust to my growing kids and new relationships with them. I look forward to spring break so the family can spend time together. Often, adults give kids structure, but frequently, my kids provide me with structure.

Escape The Vault by Akira Ohiso

Metal support wire angles up a utility pole attached to a stake in the ground. Vines have cybernetically grown in and through the metal wire and yellow covering like a cyborg appendage.

We are partially made of plastic. Recycling won’t save us. Only stopping the source will. There are innovative start-ups like Timeplast that are creating plastic-like materials that can be programmed to dissolve in water with specific life spans: 30 minutes, a month, a year.

In David Cronenberg’s film Crimes of the Future , a group of evolutionists modify their digestive systems to be able to ingest plastics and other materials via a candy bar supplement.

It reminds me of another human-made technology with unforeseen consequences - the smartphone. Initially a tool to improve our lives, it is now rewiring our brain chemistry to become isolated, angry, fearful, and depressed humans. We are now seeing the mental health crisis of young people due to social media and its years of inculcation. Self-harm and suicide are rising, facts and fundamental truths can be destroyed with memes, and our country is on the verge of a dictatorship.

When I engage with my phone, I cling to lies of journalistic lies to assuage anxiety and fear. That’s what the media has done. Without facts, we are all just pushing opinions. And opinions are like assholes; we all smell like shit. The choose-your-own-reality of online content will destroy society. It already is.

I walk West Woodland's sidewalks. This is the antidote for me: embodied experiences using all five senses. A new brewery opened in the industrial zone as glacial zoning laws change with the death of old Ballard.

I walk in, and beer drinkers socialize among the stainless steel stills. I enjoy the non-hipster ambiance. I buy an IPA 4-Pack called “Escape The Vault.” The can says, “Quit your day job and escape the vault!”