I was just chilling, listening to the new Beirut album The Rip Tide (streaming here till it comes out on 30 Aug as a part of NPR Music's First Listen series) when it occurred to me that you might not care for my music very much. That's OK, though. I might not care for yours, either--we can still be friends, right?
Sure, this isn't high school, it's a blog, so I think we'll get over a little musical difference of opinion. We have better reasons to hang out than music. But it's interesting how you can tell a lot about a person depending on what music they listen to, and how we classify people and groups by different aspects of their "culture," the things they like and don't like.
I guess that's in part because what we like represents something of a our worldview, what we think is good and what is bad, and if someone likes the music we like, maybe we share other values as well.
Along those lines, I've been thinking about culture after the internet and how hard it is sometimes to find common ground with folks who aren't already like me. And, I guess, how much easier it is to find folks who like what I like, now that the internet can connect us together. It seems to me that the internet has the ability to strengthen communities even as it tends to take more and more of our time, therefore weakening the diversity of communities we can realistically participate in.
So, for example, NPR Music has involved me in a community of music fans and got these two albums stuck in my head to the point where I had to buy them for my own peace of mind. (OK, so you younger cats probably already knew about these guys. Whatever, I'm not really cutting-edge-music-guy like some *coughAndy* people I know.) My world is a little different (and I'd say better) because of this little online community.
Another example: 11.1 million people in countries from South Korea to South Africa can meet online and play World of Warcraft together, creating a community of fantasy fans who, before the internet, might have been limited to the handful of Dungeons & Dragons players in their circle of acquaintances. Except where our cultures cross--for example, at work or church--I'm unlikely to meet any of these people, because I don't hang out in Azeroth and I don't plan on doing so anytime soon. Instead, I'm usually (these days) participating with the folks who put together the New York Times, NPR, and blogs about things I care about. To a certain extent, we live in different worlds.
With some of those folks, I have a common community in other aspects (work or church, for example). With others, I don't. I don't thing people can really relate with each other if they don't have any community in common. I guess that's what's kind of scary to me about the way the internet can sometimes shake out: it seems like it can draw us away from communities that we might have to find common ground with otherwise and turns them just into weirdos or worse.
On the other hand, the same forces which might divide communities also lets me keep in touch with my family and friends, even if physically I'm a long ways away, which is way better. I can see my nephew growing up, for example (he's so big!) On the other hand, it also gives me an excuse to not study my German, which in turn keeps me from participating with the community here very fully. (Don't worry, I'm doing that right as soon as I'm done here!)
It seems kind of trivial to be thinking of divided culture in terms of music or how we spend our free time online, but I can't help but think of how it affects our identities as individuals, how it influences how our society's development in the 21st century, and how I spend my time in different communities.
I made a list of some of the communities I participate in, which I won't bore you with here, but then I thought about rating them on how important they are and comparing that to how much time I spent investing myself in that community. I found I don't spend as much focused time on my marriage as I might, and maybe I spend too much on news blogs, etc. I also included the Church (local and in general), my family (immediate and extended), Facebook, my writing group, and a couple of music blogs. Which brings me back to Beirut. Really, folks, if you've got an hour or so that you can spend near your computer, this album is worth a listen.
What are some of the communities you find yourself a part of, online and off? And how does your online life intersect with your communities? And really, what else should I be listening to?
(Edit: I fixed awkward phrasing at the beginning. Sorry. Compulsive English major habit.)
Sure, this isn't high school, it's a blog, so I think we'll get over a little musical difference of opinion. We have better reasons to hang out than music. But it's interesting how you can tell a lot about a person depending on what music they listen to, and how we classify people and groups by different aspects of their "culture," the things they like and don't like.
I guess that's in part because what we like represents something of a our worldview, what we think is good and what is bad, and if someone likes the music we like, maybe we share other values as well.
Along those lines, I've been thinking about culture after the internet and how hard it is sometimes to find common ground with folks who aren't already like me. And, I guess, how much easier it is to find folks who like what I like, now that the internet can connect us together. It seems to me that the internet has the ability to strengthen communities even as it tends to take more and more of our time, therefore weakening the diversity of communities we can realistically participate in.
So, for example, NPR Music has involved me in a community of music fans and got these two albums stuck in my head to the point where I had to buy them for my own peace of mind. (OK, so you younger cats probably already knew about these guys. Whatever, I'm not really cutting-edge-music-guy like some *coughAndy* people I know.) My world is a little different (and I'd say better) because of this little online community.
Another example: 11.1 million people in countries from South Korea to South Africa can meet online and play World of Warcraft together, creating a community of fantasy fans who, before the internet, might have been limited to the handful of Dungeons & Dragons players in their circle of acquaintances. Except where our cultures cross--for example, at work or church--I'm unlikely to meet any of these people, because I don't hang out in Azeroth and I don't plan on doing so anytime soon. Instead, I'm usually (these days) participating with the folks who put together the New York Times, NPR, and blogs about things I care about. To a certain extent, we live in different worlds.
With some of those folks, I have a common community in other aspects (work or church, for example). With others, I don't. I don't thing people can really relate with each other if they don't have any community in common. I guess that's what's kind of scary to me about the way the internet can sometimes shake out: it seems like it can draw us away from communities that we might have to find common ground with otherwise and turns them just into weirdos or worse.
On the other hand, the same forces which might divide communities also lets me keep in touch with my family and friends, even if physically I'm a long ways away, which is way better. I can see my nephew growing up, for example (he's so big!) On the other hand, it also gives me an excuse to not study my German, which in turn keeps me from participating with the community here very fully. (Don't worry, I'm doing that right as soon as I'm done here!)
It seems kind of trivial to be thinking of divided culture in terms of music or how we spend our free time online, but I can't help but think of how it affects our identities as individuals, how it influences how our society's development in the 21st century, and how I spend my time in different communities.
I made a list of some of the communities I participate in, which I won't bore you with here, but then I thought about rating them on how important they are and comparing that to how much time I spent investing myself in that community. I found I don't spend as much focused time on my marriage as I might, and maybe I spend too much on news blogs, etc. I also included the Church (local and in general), my family (immediate and extended), Facebook, my writing group, and a couple of music blogs. Which brings me back to Beirut. Really, folks, if you've got an hour or so that you can spend near your computer, this album is worth a listen.
What are some of the communities you find yourself a part of, online and off? And how does your online life intersect with your communities? And really, what else should I be listening to?
(Edit: I fixed awkward phrasing at the beginning. Sorry. Compulsive English major habit.)
I don't think I have quite as much to say about communities as you do. I think you are correct that the interwebs both help and hurt the sense of community. I think the person who first urged mankind to use moderation in all things was wise, of course, and also correct. I think if you think of the internet as a tool, instead of a place, it will turn out more healthy for you. Sometimes, as in your example of extreme geekiness, it might be better if there wasn't a community available so you had to moderate yourself a bit (as I think you alluded to). Sometimes, the presence of a community will be a literal lifesaver. I think it's better if there are very few hard-and-fast rules.
ReplyDeleteOn the subject of music, I am even more hopeless than you. I shall cheat off of your suggestion list, okay?
I will have to get back to you with the actual list of communities I participate in. Because I am so multi-tasked, there are quite a few that I mosey through--but very few that are "vital" to my happiness.
beruit and bon iver are kind of boring. let's still be friends.
ReplyDeletei just went to a funeral of an old old lady, my next door neighbor. i never met her. i don't think she would have never met her next door neighbors when she was my age because they were her community. kind of makes me sad.