It is hard today to convey the significance and implications of the timetable, which first appeared in the early 1840s: for the organization of the railways themselves, of course, but also for the daily lives of everyone else. The pre-modern world was space-bound; its modern successor, time-bound. The transition took place in the middle decades of the nineteenth century and with remarkable speed, accompanied by the ubiquitous station clock: on prominent, specially constructed towers at all major stations, inside every station booking hall, on platforms, and (in the pocket form) in the possession of railway employees. Everything that came after—the establishment of nationally and internationally agreed time zones; factory time clocks; the ubiquity of the wristwatch; time schedules for buses, ferries, and planes, for radio and television programs; school timetables; and much else—merely followed suit. Railways were proud of the indomitable place of trains in the organization and command of time—see Gabriel Ferrer’s painted ceiling (1899) in the dining room of the Gare (now Musée) d’Orsay: an “Allegory on Time” reminding diners that their trains will not wait for dessert. —“The Glory of the Rails,” by Tony Judt, The New York Review of Books
Tweeting alone;
English is globish: or who was Harriet Martineau;
if my state’s a bar, yours is a porn star
What does rock and roll mean? For the purposes of this little disquisition, it does not mean “white people with messy haircuts.” It means the tyranny of the backbeat: Boom, bat, boom, bat, boom, bat. It means all things boom and bat. It means: Why is it so much easier to goose-step to supposed anthems of freedom like AC/DC’s “Jailbreak” than to the Prelude to Tristan und Isolde? It means: How did the drum become the drum machine? —“Clocking Out,” by J.D. Daniels, n+1
If we create our selves through narratives, whether external or internal, they are traditional ones, with protagonists and antagonists and a prescribed relationship between narrators, characters and listeners. They have linear plots with a fixed past, a present built coherently on it, and a horizon of possibilities projected coherently into the future. Digital technologies, on the other hand, are producing narratives that stray from this classic structure. New communicative interfaces allow for novel narrative interactions and constructions. Multi-user domains (MUDs), massively multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPGs), hypertext and cybertext all loosen traditional narrative structure. Digital narratives, in their extremes, are co-creations of the authors, users and media. Multiple entry points into continuously developing narratives are available, often for multiple co-constructors. —“Storytelling 2.0: When new narratives meet old brains,” by John Bickle and Sean Keating, NewScientist
