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 I used to have dreams in which I was overhearing conversations I had to program. Once, I had to program two people making love. In my dream they sweated and tumbled while I sat with a cramped hand writing code. The couple went from gentle caresses to ever-widening passions, and I despaired as I tried desperately to find a way to express the act of love in the computer language called C.

....""""....''""""........"""">......

Outside of Time (1994)

I have grown to really adore this sort of vignette style storytelling. Fiction books that split their chapters quite finely, sometimes just a page or two long, are just so delicious to consume. A sense of PACE and momentum. Like I'm in some strange building and I'm peeking in rooms.

Contains the iconic "not a real techie" section. Was circulating on tumblr and is the reason I found this book so is the reason we are reading it together. 1 point for the internet.

Introduction of an idea elaborated on later, that has been quite influential on me. That "user-friendly design" can be a symbol of contempt for humanity.

 Come In CQ (1996)

the fucking YEARNING

An electronic couple, a "we," began to evolve: "We think that way," he wrote once. "You and I feel that way," he said later. He ended his messages with "--K"; I responded as "--E." We were like adulterous corespondents who feared discovery then being sued for divorce. (31)

...there was a momentum by now, a critical mass of "we-ness" which was hurtling us toward each other. It must be done: We will have dinner. (34)

I looked at our hands lying near each other's on the table: they might as well have been typing. (35)

Ullman's intense romanticism, her urgent interest in bodies, and the incessant insertion of this into the computational world that has grown to swallow all of us, is everything to me.

Finally, A Note About Ink & Paper

Some may have noticed I have become very ride or die for letters, postcards, little handwritten notes and journalling. This is because of a few things. The first was a personal revelation about the generation of artifacts, as I described briefly in my Return To Web 1.5 essay. The second was John Vervaeke's Meaning Crisis ep 2 lecture, the section on the psychotechnology of literacy.

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The third and most utterly binding was a simple sentence.

There was his writing: precise and printlike, standing straight upward, as lean and spare as his body. Having this piece of paper, I knew what the email lacked: the evidence of his flesh, the work of his hand. (31)

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ooo i am so excited to read what you have to say today!

Evidence of Flesh Below!

Files

Comments

John Johnson

Ah! I ordered the book, but it went to the wrong address.

funô¿ôlesbian

imagine "the real techie" chapter as a AITA post. This is my larp as reddit commenter "the conversations implicit theme is solving human problems without human morality, bringing up nazis is like pointing out that homer simpson is lazy."

Lionel Kentler

Along with the beautiful evidence of a person through the artifact of physical writing, what stood out to me about her passages on letters is the instinctive value she finds in their inefficiency. “What was missing then was geography. There was no delightful time of imagination as my letter crossed mountains and oceans. In the world of paper mail, I would be hearing my words in my lover’s mind, envisioning the receipt of the envelope, his feelings at seeing the return address, the opening, the reading. But my email was already there.” It reminds me of something I heard once about giving a speech: “The emotion of what you said resides in the silence just after you say it.” Inefficiencies are romantic, friction is a creative force. Imagination and connection are being optimized away in all aspects of life, to the point where we seek them out. We take on unnecessary limits and obstacles for the sake of the space that they make in between us and our goal. We’re not built to teleport, we are creatures of the journey. Birth and death, here and there, me and you. Without the journey, we are lost. No goal we reach is given the momentum, the power, the meaning of the in-between that creates it for us.

Megan S.

I’m struggling not to start off my post by stating the blindingly obvious, but that is turning out to be an impossible feat so here goes: coding is art and coders and artists are not actually that dissimilar. Right. Like I said: blindly obvious. Still, I wouldn’t have articulated that point to myself without reading these chapters. That could stem from the fact that my knowledge of coding begins and ends with teaching “hour of code” activities to small children, or from the fact that I haven’t fully unlearned the science/art divide that our culture insists on. Either way, the way Ullman discusses her work is fascinating and telling. “Programming is more like an illness, a fever, an obsession. It’s like riding a train and never being able to get off” (Ullman, 3). So this obviously reminds me of how CJ (and many others) talk about art. Call it obsession, or hyperfocus, being in the zone, being in Cheyenne, Wyoming (how John Green refers to this space), this phenomenon is definitely a Thing. I want to dig into the way Ullman talks about this flow state because I think it has interesting implications both creation and exploitation. Ullman provides a concrete reason for prioritizing this flow state above all else: “To program is to translate between the chaos of human life and the line-by-line world of computer language. You must not lose your own attention.” (Ullman, 4). First of all, I love the line: you must not lose your own attention. It really articulates how precious and illusive attention is. This is one of the primary reasons I have taken up, and stuck with mediation; attention is the only tool I have to make the things I care about, and I must not lose it. Ultimately, I am very willing to believe that large chunks of uninterrupted time is vital for coding. It’s vital for most art. However, I want to be in the habit of questioning maxims surrounding creation, especially ones that justify or encourage exploitation. Does programming have to be like an illness? Does writing? Is this inevitable? I’m not asking rhetorically. I really don’t know. On the one hand, I hate the glorification of mental illness in pursuit of art. I see a very direct correlation to me taking better care of my mental health, and me being able to write consistently. On the other hand, art requires close and consistent attention. This looks like an obsession. This feels like an obsession. Can it be a healthy obsession? Is that an oxymoron? People so often talk about art as if it’s something completely separate from the rest of our lives. I think we see this in the divide between “high” and “low” coding. The closer your code is to being understood by “normal humans” the further away you are from your art. Of course, in order to be close to the machine you must give your entire life to this job. Again, I want to ask, is this inevitable? Because it certainly is profitable. In the case of exploitative workplace practices it feels easier to answer “Of course this isn’t inevitable, this is a choice.”. I just wonder how much of this capitalist rhetoric makes its way into artist spaces. I’m a writer, and I’m in a stage of my craft where I’m trying to take in as much useful advice as possible. I see a lot of writing advice that amounts to “write every day no matter what. Put all other obligations aside. This should be your top priority.” And to a certain extent, yes, you have to prioritize your craft to get better at it, but the most helpful advice by far has been how to integrate writing into a full life. I too want to be closer to the machine, but I don’t know if that’s an impulse I should feed. Not if it means ignoring my community or the rest of my obligations.

Seoyoung Park

OH GOD! NEVER have i been so excited for a book club post! I've been absolutely fucking grinding through YANAG, but I finally understood why! THE FLESH IS FUCKING MISSING IN YANAG! THERE ARE SO MANY FEELINGS IN THIS! DESCRIPTIONS OF THE DEMOGRAPHICS OF PEOPLE IN A ROOM! THE AFFECT DRIPS OFF EVERY SINGLE FUCKING PAGE AND THE REALITIES OF THE WEB ARE MORE THAN FACTS AND CONSEQUENCES! THEY ARE *LIVED* *FELT* *REALITIES*!!!!!! I've recently begun filming a video essay, and my DSLR kept automatically shutting down my fucking video within 5 seconds, and I kept thinking "what the hell" and I googled it and went through so much research only to find out it was because I had a 2GB SD Card in it (which, yes... that'll do it), but WHY? WHY DIDN'T IT JUST SAY "you have low storage" "unable to process data" SOMETHING like that! I have always found it frustrating they never tell you how to fix ANYTHING, and then I'm just staring at a screen, fighting for my life. The contempt of the common person was so enlightening to me!! THIS IS IMPORTANT! We NEED to know the affective realms we reside in because ULTIMATELY nothing is NOT feelings. We live lies fucking DOUSED in affect, and to ignore the tangibility of those feelings in the work we create is ignorance at best and arrogance at worst. I am thinking about the culture of denying feelings: going through communal hazing, and the only response being self deprecation, and the absence of humanity in that. This is what happens when you embrace the singularity! This is what happens when you wait for cybernetic-rapture instead of living the life that is offered-- JARON! WHY DIDN'T WE TALK ABOUT THIS! The psychosocial implications of the web are So Much More interesting than dongles! I felt, while reading YANAG, that something was off... That there was something that made the entire read a little bit Too academic (a feeling I hardly ever feel, even while reading theory), and I think it was because of the lack of complex emotion and interrogation of the "who" in the room, and the people making up that space. I appreciated YANAG, I think about it a lot. I was thinking about lock-in as I was trawling ebay for vintage digital/film cameras and looking at the shapes they took before we understood that "cameras" were square, the lens in the middle or far corner, and that the shutter is for the right handed. The cameras are strange and alien (look up Nexia Q1). Lanier talks incessantly about how lock-in has robbed us of the peculiarities of our individual existence, but doesn't really show us what those would be on a Personal level. He goes through wikipedia and explains why that's bad, the culling of a persona on Facebook, etc. but what does it mean for OUR SOULS. HOW WE LOVE ?

Seoyoung Park

To create from a culture of derision is what yields the fucking cesspool we have now… These degenerate bullies should not be forming the mediums with which we communicate… of course social media is like this…. This is how they lived before, and they invented a way to inflict the toxicity in our lives too… Ive been in my tiktok microinfluencing era (I hate being onscreen in that way, but I have $1000 dollars to my name total rn and i know I’m good at Tiktok), and I just noticed as I commented that I wasn’t afraid to comment and fear that someone would misconstrue what I was saying or take the worst possible interpretation of what I’d just said. (I appreciate the epistemic community you’ve built CJ!!!) I think there’s a culture of generosity and openness here that’s really conducive to collaborative exploration/discovery, which I’ve only found in ~horizontal pedagogical arts spaces~ thus far. I am poor as bricks rn, and haemorrhaging money out of my ass, but the $3 a month I spend on this patreon a month are such a great digital sphere to partake in. It’s a part of my budget I wouldn’t cut out. I don’t know any of you guys but I love to read ur thoughts lol

emm-soph

[glued in here is a screenshot from tumblr. it shows someone in office clothing, disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, smoking outside at night, looking at nothing. the text above says “trying to bring back eroticism while living in an age of constant instant gratification”] i am writing this from the upstairs room in my parents’ friends’ norway hut by the sea. i am here with my family after ending a relationship that needed badly to be over a few days before we left. my family and i have been fishing, hiking, sitting in various places of this beautiful fjord, looking. i cannot believe i’m here. so much horror behind me, so much beauty in front of me. i can hear the waves through the window. ellen ullman’s prose is stunning. i had already read her novel by blood, but i was somehow not prepared for this second chapter. it is so vivid, and that is deeply affected by her care for the romanticism of physicality. it is beautiful. and something that resonates deeply with me. even my own notes app, as filled with perfectly beautiful thoughts as it is, will never mean as much to me as the stupid little random notes i find in places from years ago. we have talked recently about the special feeling of a film camera over the digital. i am sure my tirade against what bothers me about the internet and our tech-filled lives will find its way into this book club. i know some of you will push back against it when it comes, with very beautiful points also based on positive and purposeful experience. i’m kissing you all on the mouth, but i also wish it wasn’t all so necessary. i prefer to leave the phone at home, so it doesn’t nudge me as we walk between cliffs that make my brother say something about how much harder it is to be an atheist in a place like this. my beautiful wife named logging off. lord help me to never make an instagram account. i really, really look forward to continuing this book. ullman’s writing is so incredibly stunning and poignant. and looking forward to talking to all of you!! :)

D.S Films

"We don't need to involve anyone else in the satisfaction of our needs. We don't even have to talk. We get our services when we want them, free from the obligations of regularly scheduled time. We can all live closer to the machine". This book is both extremely foretelling, and written in a beautiful, artistic manner. It blows my mind that the quote above was written in 1994, before I was born, and perfectly describes exactly how life is now. I'm sure it really was like this in 1994 also, but it is clear that this description has only become more and more relevant over time. It still makes me sad that I can just order something online and have it arrive the next day. (Goddam Jeff Bezos) That should be a helpful thing, but spending years looking in shops for items, contributing to local communities and the ultimate feeling of satisfaction when you find the thing you wanted, is becoming all too rare. It is not uncommon that I dream of simpler times, when people communicated in the physical world because there was no other way, and hand-written artifacts were the norm. I look at old photographs of people in the 1950s and wonder if they are happy. Do they know what they've got? This book can serve as an escape from the noise for me, with it's beautiful descriptions of the events in her life, from Eugene and his calls for connections, and that dark and stormy beach. Oh how I felt like I was there, on that beach...

azalea water

this is already one of the best books i've ever read ---------------------------------------- The way Ullman writes prose is such a stark contrast to the writers we’ve had so far. Odell, Nagle and Lanier were all quite floral writers. They had a real knack of tying their emotions together with their subject matter with these long, expository sentences that wrapped around each other. Granted, sometimes the prose strayed a bit too far and you were stuck there trying to figure out how ravens came back to the attention economy. But for the most part, they always got round to the topic. Ullman doesn’t fuck around. She’s incredibly blunt and matter-of-fact. Every sentence feels like a cold shower – they dig into you as soon as you read them. It’s almost like she’s this ghost watching herself and the people around her. Ullman will tell you the scene, the people and how they act. But she doesn't really put herself in her prose. And that leads to these really harsh and chilling descriptions of early silicon valley and the horrific culture that came from it. “When he says ‘wife,’ there is no love, warmth, or goodness in it. In this engineer’s mouth, ‘wife’ means wet diapers and dirty dishes. It means someone angry with you for losing track of time and missing dinner.” - (page 15) And that icy tone just hits harder when you reach the last section of the essay. “The computer is about to enter our lives like blood into the capillaries. Soon, everywhere we look, we will see pretty, idiot-proof interfaces designed to make us say, ‘OK.’ [...] See a movie, order seats to a basketball game, make hotel reservations, send a card to Mother—all services waiting for us on our telephones, televisions, computers.” - (Page 21-22) Hindsight isn’t nice. Ullman clearly knew the effects that computers would have on people later down the line. The fact that someone so close to technology is feeling the dissociation we all have come to expect with social media and the internet is haunting. It’s like hearing that there were economists who knew, undeniably, that the financial crash of 2009 was gonna happen. But we just didn’t listen to them. Ullman is our economist. ---------------------------------------- There’s a physicality to Ullman’s description of the internet. She talks about physically putting a disk into a PC and watching it flick on, or the whirring sound of dial-up internet. There are little hints that remind you that what you're working on is a man-made object, there with you. And there is simply a lack of that in modern tech. The sentence “We use the internet as a tool, like the phone, a way to transmit news and make appointments” (page 31) is foreign. There’s no divide between those three ideas. Like it or not, the individual machines that used to take up these roles have been mashed together for our convenience. And that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. For as long as humans have existed, technology has always moved to increase comfort. But I can’t deny that dissolving the physical boundary of a camera and a phone removes some of the humanity you find in analogue teck. I wanna make it clear that this isn’t a call to revert technology. If it wasn’t for photoshop or FLstudios, art as we know it simply wouldn’t exist. But with those programs, there’s still a humanity. There’s a person behind the screen making art. They’re probably using a midi controller or stylus to create. Even with typing, most people use a physical keyboard to get their thoughts across. But when taking a picture on my phone, I’m just hitting a flat piece of glass to move some pixels. I wanna feel the gears moving. You get this with people. And Ullman knows that when she confronts Karl: “I felt my whole body saying, ‘Touch me. Put your arm around me. Only brush my shoulder. Even just stand next to me, your hands in your pockets, but let our jacket sleeves graze each other.’” - (Page 41) When I got to that line in the essay, I cried. Relationships through the internet (not parasocial ones. Real, Interpersonal relationships) never quite feel real. There is still a bond there, but your awareness that the person is stunted by the lack of their body. You can’t see their little leg movements or feel their weight sitting next to you. It’s like sitting in the backseat of a car: you’re moving, but you can’t see the road. And when you’re talking about humans, the knock-offs just aren’t the same.

Lucas Regis

I love the anecdote on the woman who kept her phone number unlisted so no one could call her back. It touches on the asynchrony of internet life well, but as phones have penetrated all of our lives I can't help but relate to her desire to not want to be reachable all the time. It's the paradox of the internet age: we're always alone but not really. The second chapter was by far my favorite. I was not prepared for email romance. The obtuse yearning of love letters flying somewhere in the air, radio waves, and the intense yearning of love letters written by hand. The way Ellen touches on the disconnect between "real" and internet life and how systems affect our selves is both beautiful but also horrific in a Cronenberg sorta way (long live the new flesh!)

Joe Wraga

I like the “high is bad” way of conceptualizing/visualizing being closer to the machine. The machine is low, and pulling us all toward it. The dominating ideologies spread themselves, and software engineer thinking becomes everyone's thinking. The eugenics bit is great, and I love describing it as some boys having fun, like they’re playing Civ or Call of Duty. Describes a lot of politics actually. Tech bros, Musk and Zuck etc. It's also like they don't want to deal with the biological, only the logical, foreshadowing the next essay. It’s fun to make us scared of the ubiquitous “OK” button. Maybe we should be. Also the part about how we don’t need to talk to anyone to satisfy our needs. Pete Holmes and Bo Burnham talked about this in one of the You Made it Weird podcasts, eg DoorDash/Grubhub. On "Come in, CQ", I like the mail vs email musing, there being nothing physical in the ways we largely communicate now. CJ has been talking about this a lot lately. Ullman cherishes the actual paper Karl wrote on and the details of his handwriting, "the evidence of his flesh", rather than "losing the feel of the sender". Also "I didn't feel answered; I felt commented on", sounds like a lot of our communications over text, internet comments, etc.

saba

hi just wanted to highlight that this book is like. Tbe perfect size. Optimal Book Size. like platonic ideal of what you want when you imagine the dimensions of a book. is anyone else noticing this

Louis-Antoine LeBel

Enjoying the book so far. Ullman writes in a very personal voice, it’s as if you’re in a 90’s office beside her. I find that she beautifully channels her emotions and state of mind. There’s a throughline of loneliness and isolation in both chapters that’s brilliantly portrayed. — “What was compelling was the software. I was making something out of nothing, I thought, and I admit the software had more life for me than my brief love affair, my friends, my cat, my house, my neighbor who was stabbed and nearly killed by her husband. I was creating (“creating”—that is the word we used) a device-independent interface library.” (p.6) This is the first time I read someone describe so well the obsessive nature of coding. It’s a similar mental state that I get sometimes when making music, but I find it’s easier to slip into it while programming. Hours pass like minutes, I hardly move my body but I’m exhausted after too long. While working, there’s the joy of creating and a satisfaction after solving bugs and logical problems that always arise. And yet unlike most forms of art, the end product is often astonishingly dull: a monitoring program for database processes, a device-independent interface library. A tool. I don’t mean that code and logic can’t be beautiful, but it is most often locked away behind obfuscation and binary executables. — I believe CJ posted the “not a real techie” passage on here a few months ago. It stuck with me, but I also find that part a little annoying for dumb reasons. Like, the men in that section are downright evil, but also incredibly stupid. Their enthusiasm for the genocide solution clearly shows that they don’t care about ethics, so why did it take them so long to reach that conclusion? Are they stupid? Why did they have to do all these calculations when killing everyone is the most straightforward answer (when no morals are involved). I know Ullman is trying to display the slippery slope that arises when humanity is removed from technology and <i>progress</i>, but I still find these guys dumb as bricks. Nowadays, I believe most engineering programs have a handful of ethics courses to avoid unleashing genocidal techies into the real world. But there’s still resistance from many stem students to learn about ethics, as they feel they are above it. During my last year in university, I took an ethics course for computer science students and it was very painful at times. Students disagreeing that the tech field is biased towards men, despite there being 30 men and 6 women in the classroom. Do NOT ❌🙅‍♂️try to discuss GENDER NORMS ⚤ with COMP SCI 💻 students👨‍🎓. Their BRAINS 🧠cease to FUNCTION 🤯 It was bad inside and outside the class. The discord channel for the course was littered with students complaining that the class was useless and attacks towards the professor. I think during one class we talked about invisible biases in datasets and how programs and models built on top of such data could lead to the discrimination of certain groups of people. I remember one student writing in the Discord something akin to “How can code be discriminatory, it’s only 1’s and 0’s”. The sheer lack of curiosity/empathy and misplaced confidence still baffles me today. The course wasn’t perfect, but there were still a lot of fascinating things to learn. It reminds of one of my favourite quote from Dan Olson’s “Line goes Up”: “[They] assume that because they understand one very complicated thing, programming with cryptography, that all other complicated things must be lesser in complexity and naturally lower in the hierarchy of reality [...]” (23:30) Excited to read the rest of the book!

BethiePage42

I'm loving this book. I try not to have too many opinions in opening chapters, but Ullman has impressed me with her ability to present honest facts thru the lens of her opinion. I appreciate the clear distinction between what she sees, and how she interprets those scenes. I am hoping that she stays on theme: the cultural expectation to get ever closer to the machine. I read the opening chapter as fraught with her own personal tension with this goal. A stress dream about coding the act of love, speaks to the overwhelming nature of the tasks she tackles in waking life: to make everything make rational sense. Yikes! Ps...I feel like this is begging for a meme that encapsulates the change from the 60s get high vibe from the 2000s vibe "get low"

Stephen Folkerts

I was a little worried coming into this because I didn’t like the writing at first, but I’m getting used to it. Some of the vignettes in the first essay felt unnecessarily dramatized and reductive, despite the memoir/personal history genre kind of abetting this tendency. However, as I kept reading, I found more than enough insightful, descriptive, and affective moments (especially in Come in, CQ) to sell me on the writing style. Here’s a few thoughts: “Outside of Time,” as a title, implies that there, perhaps, is no end to the timeline. No death to be avoided. It is the pride of someone who believes they have stepped outside of the temporal inconveniences and the impending loom of death—the risks of a human life, that make love, care, worship, and everything else imbued with the weight of eternity. “In the designer’s mind, gradually, over months and years, there is created a vision of the user as imbecile. The imbecile vision is mandatory. No good, crash-resistant system can be built except if it’s done for an idiot.”- p. 16 Designers create, by necessity, a “risk-free” environment. There is a predictability-- no interruptions or surprises in the ideal version- Especially with programs/interfaces that are meant to serve us. Games are meant to create inherent risk. You are forced back to your spawnpoint. You lose a valuable item or spend resources in an inefficient way. In game design, we have to simulate “little deaths” in order for us to attach value to the things we do. Games teach us things- it creates what can be more closely called an interaction. The irony is that programs designed to serve us treat us with the least respect, teach us the least. Come in, CQ— “In a McLuhanesque way, cyberspace carries its own message back to the engineer: We are mind and machine mediated by mind and machine. A typical posting: “You are running in tautologies. Your whole way of thinking is a tautology. Or else you are stupid.””- p. 26 I thought this was interesting—a machine, founded mostly on language despite its focus on “physical” function (operation-- discussed later by Ullman)- is naturally self-referential. There are kind of endless meta-layers to the way we interact with language, and those layers become more defined and stilted when processed through communication w/ machine, as opposed to the affective, existential feel of talking about meta-layers of human experience. McLuhan seems like he has some stuff worth reading, hadn’t heard of him before. Overall, this one made me emotional in a kind of ineffable way. lots to relate to, and I'm excited to read more.

Chandler Sterling

"Programming is more like an illness, a fever, an obsession. It's like riding a train and never being able to get off." (pg. 3) I have dedicated too much of my life to a Computer Science degree just to learn that I really hate it. I hate the stupid computers and their extremely pedantic complaints about syntax. I hate the logical errors where everything runs properly but does the entirely WRONG thing. I hate the way that every person I met in my computer science classes seemed to have started coding at the age of 3 and went to the classes as a formality. They spent most of their time on their computers working on extracurricular projects in languages my college wouldn't even teach to spice up their resumes. Every second of my time in those classes was filled with frustration, jealousy, and despair in varying amounts and orders. So know that when I tell you that I enjoy coding, it really is a disease. When I wrote my first program (Hello World, as all must do), I was mostly just confused, but it didn't take long for the complexity of the projects and the internal logic to captivate me. I was enamored with the way that lines of text could transform into something so unexpected. Even the bugs I hated just hammered in how outside of the realm of usual things I was venturing. Every step closer to the machine felt like untrod ground, even as I was being led by hand. I couldn't shake the weight of being able to shape this thing that was a part of all our lives. Technology was here to stay, and I was going to have a hand in leading it to wherever it went next. I don't want this to get into the territory of mythologizing technology. My initial adoration of the machine fell away long ago, and I don't think it is worth the attention most people give it. When you lean in close enough, you can smell the oil and the ozone-laced stench of electricity. You see it creaking under the pressure of the billions of lives depending on it. Sometimes, it even buckles under the pressure (*ahem* Crowdstrike). The machine was never a God, but it strayed too close to being a hero for me. It could make me important if I could just find a new way to make it important in turn. A blood sacrifice must always be made, even if you don't notice the bleeding. "In exchange for giving up seven years of their lives, they became very, very wealthy." (pg. 7) I have always thought of myself as a writer above all things, and I couldn't help but compare the structure of code to poems. Reading back through a program while looking for a bug was like a strange form of free verse. The semicolons at the end of each line certainly didn't help; the need for punctuation implied a sense of intention that gave it an artistic flair. It took me too long to see the glaring difference between a program and a poem. In a program, the function always takes place above the form. Elegantly written code is not about conveying an idea, experience, or emotion in an artistic and subconsciously impactful way, it is about wasting as little memory and space as possible. It is about literal efficiency, the kind that your manager tells you he cares about before requiring you to sit through an hour-long seminar on how to best guide an AI to write an email I could have written in 5 minutes. (This is only partially not based on true events. It would've taken me 10 minutes because I have anxiety about sending emails.) I got somewhat lucky and found a job related to computers that doesn't have me writing code all day. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, but I graduated with a deep sense that any job requiring me to code would rip my soul from my body. Even worse, I was afraid that I wouldn't care at that point. The boy who took his first class dreaming of becoming the T.S. Eliot of coding had left school convinced that he was regarded lower than the machines he would be consigned for decades to work on. It turns out I just wanted to write poetry. The machine is tempting in a Biblically demonic sense. It promises fame, fortune, and glory for the price of no less than your soul (in most cases/anecdotally/some other softening phrase so you don't take this personally if that's your life [you do you, if it works it works, etc.]). The Zuckerberg memes are funny at times, but I mostly just get depressed when I see how empty those eyes seemed to be for so many years. I see my eyes when I boot down the computer at the end of the day. I see the horrors that Boomers are too tech-illiterate to put their fingers on, but worry themselves over all the same. The Social Network (2010 film) just feels like a modern day Faust (1800s play). I think that's why physical human connection is the cure to being too close to the machine. I think it's implicit in the high-low level comparison and explicit in pretty much all of "Come in, CQ". The lower you are, the closer you get to the machine (insert reference to the Underworld here), and the higher you are, the closer you get to humanity. Frank worked in sales. He talked to people all day. "Frank was as 'high' as one could get." (pg. 9) That human, high level existence is what so many people crave these days. When the floor tilted and we all slid closer to the machine, it became clear that being higher up wasn't a problem: It was just human. We're complex and confusing and smart in really strange and unusual ways. Computers pretend to be all those things, but it is the people behind the computers who give them any chance of appearing intelligent. It would be like Kasparov congratulating his Queen on being such a talented chess player. "Computers are supposed to be like brains, but in fact they are idiots, because the take everything you say at face value." (pg. 3) I promised myself I'd start writing shorter posts to accommodate the sprawling world of entries the KTI book club has amassed, but this one was just too personal to edit down any further. The next few will hopefully be contained to a few paragraphs until I get my next spike in creative energy. Welcome back to Killing the Internet! I've seen the machine buckle and bleed. We'll get it soon!

Silver

Omg first bookclub i participate in as it’s going on (currently also going through ZMM, finding it incredibly enriching). My mind is full of Quality-stuff atm so that might bleed into my comments in the coming weeks. Sadly my book is not gonna arrive until mid august so i had to resort to a digital version for the time being. First time actually trying to read a book from my phone and it was horrible. I need the physical presence of paper and the ability to scribble my thoughts into the pages at any time. I already articulated the biggest realisation i had while reading the first two chapters while replying to LeBel‘s comment. Very excited for the rest of the book and for the arrival the book itself xD

RobinDH

Gonna try to submit comments for every installment this time around, and make sure I do so within the day it's posted; two things I was not good at in the two bookclubs I've participated in thus far. Looking forward to it! "Outside of Time" was brilliant, sucked me in right away. Really liked the vignette-y structure and the contemptuous, jaded deadpan of her prose. Had seen the "not a real techie" anecdote before, but it was even better this time, sandwiched between everything else. I'm drawing parallels between this story (and the book as a whole) and another book I'm reading currently (shocking, I know): William T. Vollmann's The Rainbow Stories. I find it to be somewhat―quite possibly superficially―similar in structure to Life in Code: 30-ish page segments divided even smaller into vignettes. There also might be some similarities in their prose, but I'm not entirely sure. Rainbow Stories is incredible, by the way, highly recommend getting it if you can can. "Come in, CQ" might be even better. Much more in the way of the melancholic and even nostalgic. I'm a sucker for writing on the nuances and differences between the analog and the digital, especially about the epistolary. Loved the drifts into less 'solid' writing as well, want to highlight this passage in particular: "Specter of hardware. World of Eugenes. Clear broadcasts on cold nights. Bits and protocals on air and wire. Machines sleeping in the dark. A voice calling CQ through electric snow. "Yeah," I said, "signal strength," giving up on the night." [pp. 37] Just gorgeous. Whole essay likewise. Came together so neatly with that quote from the radioman: "It's coming from a person's hand." Edit: would be remiss not to mention, even if it feels sort of redundant, how unbelievably prescient this book is. Like what the hell. Also here's an M. Night Shyamalan quote from an IndieWire interview about his decision to shoot his new film on 35mm, which I feel is relevant to the digital vs. analog thing in this book WRT the epistolary: "That’s kind of a mandatory thing because it’s precarious. You only get the dailies… because there’s not many film labs left in the world, or the United States. You’re making hard decisions, which is: you’re not seeing the footage for three days. Because it ships all the way to Los Angeles; then it comes back. And it’s dangerous, right? Because it’s a negative; it’s all these things. And there’s costs involved. Whereas with digital: boom, you have it right away. And so much less expensive. But I do it for… it just makes a difference. I remember, even with Apple, I made a presentation to shoot “Servant” on film. " (https://www.indiewire.com/features/interviews/m-night-shyamalan-trap-josh-hartnett-35mm-interview-1235030427/)

Ti

I’m immediately vibing with this book and the author. Her work is so incredibly human and accessible and I can already imagine how going deeper into the book will bombard me with even more resonating thoughts and feelings. The techie-to-eugenist jumpscare in the first chapter disturbed me for sure, but really didn’t surprise me. With rationality superseding everything else, the logic follows through off the edge of the ethics/morality cliff. This whole chapter overall left me feeling sad on how many of these techies during this time period seemed to forget how the “machine” they ultimately worshiped and strive to be close to was made by humans!! The machine does not think it only does what humans are telling it to do to an obnoxious degree!! And I say “time period” since the essay was written 30 years ago, but this sentiment definitely exists through the popular beliefs surrounding AI today, with so many people believing that AI can think and is doing everything on its own without the very human labor used to create it. I’m looking forward to seeing if AI topics come up later in this book and her thoughts on it. Also I have a strong nagging feeling the guy who refused to talk just didn’t want to have to speak with a woman in the workplace in general, but could also be very wrong there. With the second chapter I got such a profound sense of simultaneous longing and mourning with the disconnect from human time with the email exchanges. How sometimes for some people it’s only through technology itself you’ll get as close as you can get to them. In some ways I know this has really allowed folks I otherwise wouldn’t be able to connect to in real life thrive. My personal example is I was in virtual group therapy with someone who was mute and mainly communicated through a text to speech tablet or would just type their thoughts into the chat for someone else to read aloud. Although the contrast from Ellen’s experience in this chapter is the technology maintained its humanity since someone else had to physically read the text out loud. No matter that they conveyed their thoughts digitally someone else would echo back their words in real human time. I wonder what would have happened to Ellen and Karl if they had taken the leap to bring their emails into the physical realm by reading each other words aloud to each other, taking back the echo from the interpolation issue? Would they have somehow been able to bridge the gap they felt in reality? All in all, A+ start and excited to dive back in for more!

Christine Guzman

First off, thank you CJ for picking such a wonderful and timely book. I was instantly absorbed by the writing and the stories. It's made me feel so nostalgic. Nostalgic about a life that is no longer here. All these things came to us and changed everything, and we never had a chance to stop and reflect... until now. I go back on forth on whether life felt better before because of less technology or because I was a kid. The vibes are just off. It can't be just me feeling it. Sometimes I try and think of when we'll reach the peak of the tech promise; are we in it with AI? Part of me feels like there is mass discontent, the other part of me feels like there is so much complacency, or sunk cost fallacy that lives will go by without people realizing what's wrong. I'm not sure if I'm even making sense, but at some point, with health professionals warning about loneliness epidemic, with young people frustrated about how apps have destroyed romance. When are we going to admit it's the tech. We can't be looking for answers in the thing causing it. Maybe I'm being impatient, but I feel like this is the battle for our souls. I watched Wall-e last week with my niece and it hits. Just like the movie, the book felt like a warning to the world we are inhabiting today. I'm happy to be processing all of these thought with this community. Makes me hopeful that not all is lost. That there's also a lot of good that can be found within these changes. "So we were lucky for the email. It gave us a channel to reach each other, at least - an odd intimacy, but intimacy nonetheless." p.37

capybyara

Super stoked to join Book Club for the first time! Really intrigued by this book and the writing style so far. The part about Karl especially resonated with me. Lots of my past romantic relationship have been more about the idea of reality than reality itself. I recently got out of a 2.5 year relationship. The reason we broke up was that we had little in common, very different wants and needs, and that our ideas of the future were incompatible. I had known this for quite some time, though I had never dared to say it out loud before. My ex never told their parents we were dating because due to their religious views they would likely disapprove, so any time we spent together felt like stolen time, secret meetings with an uncertain future and an underlying sense of fear (both of us still live at home which did not help). Combine that with the aforementioned reasons for breaking up and you can imagine how the reality of being together, in the real, physical world, wasn't very happily-ever-after at all. However: the moment we were apart and communicated online, we were able to curate this perfect illusion of what we wanted the relationship to be. "Immediately the body in the machine had returned us to each other. In this interchange there is the memory of the beach, its feel and smell, mentions of beds and sleep." In this realm, we were soulmates, star-crossed lovers, Romeo and Juliet (I just turned 18 when we started dating, in case you were wondering). We made Pinterest boards for each other, we wrote poetry about the love we shared, we exchanged long voice memos, we said good morning and good night and fantasized about living together in the future, but never took steps to make this come true, of course. We thought about what our wedding would be like. We made plans for dates we had yet to go on, movies to watch and new things to try. They were rarely carried out. Much like how in the Karl story they kept postponing their dinner. What a strange thing it is. To feel closer to someone when you're further apart. Maybe we never actually wanted to be close to each other, but just to *something*. And it's easier to get close to something you molded into your very own idea of perfection than to something unpredictable that may disappoint. Closer to the machine, if I'm interpreting the term correctly.

alex

god, it feels good to be back in the kti swing of things. i'm seeing a lot of new people (and people i recognize (hello!!)) and i'm excited to be away from Studying For Credential Hell to participate. kti this year has had the added benefit of encouraging me to read more. i like that - i find that it helps me wind down early, and i feel more measured, more connected, than i do when i spend my nights doing whatever on the internet until 2 am. when you read, you get into a lot of people's heads. i feel like, since few people have the confidence or time to sit down and write a book, a lot of writing "voices" tend to sound the same. even a conversational book or memoir can have a similar cadence to someone else's, because of ghostwriting or that lack of confidence. this book, though. i struggle to put words to it other than "🫵 you. i've never been in your head before." maybe it's because her head sounds a bit like my head? while my work is in no way as technical as hers, it's not embodied. it doesn't require conversation. i talk to my boss or even another coworker maybe once every four or five working days. and maybe, because i was hired right before covid hit and my day-to-day existence is fairly unvaried due to working at home, "Real time was no longer compelling. Days, weeks, months, and years came without much physical change in my surroundings... Programs and machines don't care how you live." (8, 9) felt too real. maybe it's also because when i start recognizing it i also know that i'm walking a tightrope to avoid a menty b. like, i'm a homebody. "We don't even have to talk. We get our services when we want them, free from obligations of regularly scheduled time." (17) is what i want, as an introvert. but it is a thin line i personally know i have to walk carefully on. consciously seeking out embodied experiences is something i had to learn in therapy, and it's something you can fall to the wayside with. but we (as humans) need it. so even if i'm tired, i remind myself that going to dinner with family, navigating through crowded walkways, and sweating it out in a restaurant when the ac is NOT compensating for the 105 degree heat is way better for me than girlrotting. but the internet unfortunately makes use of your imagination. i actually had a (not quite) similar experience to ullman's with karl. i met a girl online, and we had a lot of the same interests. i literally made a discord server for us to talk about different topics because, whether it was books or sociology or what have you, we had a talent for writing long-ass essays on the subject. so texting was uncomfortable. i wanted to delay meeting in person, not just out of anxiety, but also because "[I] wanted to stay where we were: in the overwhelming sensation of words, machine, imagination." (30) needless to say, after we met in person, i wasn't feeling it anymore. "[I had had] to speak. [I had had] to know when to talk and when to listen." (34) i've experienced another sort of that intensity. i mean, with this other dude, i've had a long (Long) history with him. "I didn't feel answered, I felt commented on." (33) is - augh. "commenting" (and anyone in programming pls don't clown on me i'm a lowly researcher that writes syntax in spss under duress) explains what the code does. it's greyed out, it isn't run. it's there just so you can use people words to explain whatever you've written in the "strange language that is only partially readable by human beings" (4). and we do that to each other - it happens because our brains operate similarly, but we're just different enough to be incompatible. it's because literally everything this person has to say has an element that's compelling to it - something that requires response. i dunno - there's more to the chapters we read that filled my stomach with yucky stuff but for now all i have to offer is a resounding "girl same :|". i like being in her head.

simon_meowell

I used to work as a programmer (nothing so close to the machine as a software engineer, I’m afraid). I’m not going to say that Life in Code was what got me out of the biz, but in the death by a thousand papercuts that was my exit from tech, Outside of Time alone made up at least a good dozen papercuts. I was 19, in my first college internship (third coding internship of my existence so far - I was an overly-ambitious high schooler with the resources to gun it). Every day at lunch, I would run to the nearest bookstore (a B&N) and browse, browse, browse. Sometimes, if the book was good, I’d sit down and read a while. 

Life in Code had just come out in paperback and was displayed prominently on the tech shelf, which always held the spotlight in my browsing routine; perhaps I was searching for some proof that I actually did like technology, or some explanation as to why being in the industry was so painful. Ullman explained both with startling clarity. Proof that I loved machines came from resonating with that feeling Ullman describes on p28, of piloting a plane: "the indescribable pleasure of holding a powerful machine while it holds me." The indictment of the industry itself was so clear to me, that without having picked up the book again, 6 years later the following sequences were all still burned into my brain: the “close to the machine” explanation, the eugenics thought experiment conversation, the permission of childish eccentricities in the Japanese investor meeting, and the colleague who refused to talk through design problems. I did not buy the book. Instead, I walked away and returned to my job, took three more tech internships over the course of my college years, and switched to working in publishing after a year at a startup post-grad. All that bookstore browsing amounted to something. I’m much happier now. Even now, after I chose to get a math degree instead of a CS degree (there being more “evidence of the flesh” in math), I crave closeness to the machine. Even now, after I switched industries entirely I still feel myself valuing closeness to the machine. It makes no practical sense in my new daily reality - I’m Frank, I am dead to the world of code. But still I think it’ll make me more worthy. Worthy of what, I can’t say. There's something alluring about it on an individual level, but as a collective we've made an unholy mess; of ubiquitous asynchronicity, of the outsourced labor that asynchronicity encourages, of the human contempt behind good UX, of the many million dick-measuring contests heard round the world, of the thought experiments that could be pointed in any direction other than eugenics, of the direction of attention towards back-and-forth chatter, instead of taking in the melange of the sensory whole (that date with Karl was so sad! "The world was conspiring around us. All things physical insisted we pay attention. The steady rush of the ocean. The damp sand...the smell of salt, of air that had traveled across the water all the way from Japan…Yet he talked, talked, talked" p.35). Amazed that she felt these things in her bones so vividly in 1994, she understood exactly where we were going. Amazed at her descriptive power, so strong and deeply felt that I could recall exact paragraphs of her writing six years later (I don’t remember much else of what I read that summer) I had not read any further in those six years since I first picked this up in that B&N, but had always meant to return to it. I’m glad for the excuse that KTI brings to revisit this and charge forward! Really enjoying reading through everyone’s resonance with her ideas, and our connections to other materials and personal experiences. Thought I’d share mine - 19 year old me felt a lot less alone after reading Outside of Time, and would’ve been over the moon at the chance to discuss it with such thoughtful people!

halley

I wasn't too excited when I first heard we'd be doing another 'tech book' but at this point I trust CJ's recommendations wholeheartedly and, indeed, they know what I want better than I do. I also just started learning the most basic coding a few weeks ago to make myself a little html website, very much inspired by the interview with water silk, and I'm actually really excited by it all and proud of myself- especially because this is something I NEVER thought I would be able to do! I found myself much more sympathetic to the artistry of how she describes her work now that I have this tiny window into how it works, and her writing style is just really elegant and lovely. it reads as if it were a diary entry handwritten in cursive and only rediscovered years later to be typed out and edited, whereas Lanier read more like a transcribed Ted talk or podcast interview. she's intimate and poignant where he's more clever and provocative. same field but totally different vibes. "the computer is about to enter our lives like blood into the capillaries. soon, everywhere we look, we will see pretty, idiot-proof interfaces designed to make us say ' ok'. " -- a prophecy from the year I was born! this reads like the intro of a sci-fi novel, the 'before' times teasing what we know is to come. this asynchronous life she describes as one gets closer to the machine, falling out of the rhythms of time and unsynchronized with other people, feels distinctly anti-human and deeply unsettling. the workplace she describes which always stayed the same reminded me of the show severance. in some way I feel like its the logical extension of the abstracting force of language to disassociate, as I'm finding the heavy reliance on grammar and language in programming quite interesting. as Octavia Butler says, 'god is change'... I've felt that alignment with the seasons and perpetual shapeshifting keeps me grounded, tethered to this earthly home and safe from getting too lost in mind-time. the next chapter deals with this too in the way that the timelessness of computer systems compresses our interactions into an eternal now, creating a sense of anxious urgency. still the best descriptor I've heard that captured this feeling is everything everywhere all at once. "I'm an engineer for the same reason anyone is an engineer: a certain love for the intricate lives of things, a belief in a functional definition of reality. I do believe that the operational definition of a thing- how it works- is it's most eloquent self-expression. ironically, those of us who most believe in physical, operational eloquence are the very ones most cut off from the body. to build the working thing that is a program, we perform 'labor' that is sedentary to the point of near immobility, and we must give ourselves up almost entirely to language." I'm very much not an engineer but I am an artist, so while i may not share this belief I do appreciate her putting it into words in a way that I can understand. this bodily disconnect is what repels me most from engaging with this field, so her calling it out but in this loving way builds a lot of trust for me as a reader. "having this piece of paper, I knew what the email lacked: the evidence of his flesh, the work of his hand." in some recent video CJ alluded to this as 'proof of pulse' and this phrasing has been stuck in my head ever since. I already wrote a lot espousing the virtues and pleasures of handwriting vs typing in the AOTD threads so I'm not gonna get too into it again, but it's basically just this- "it's coming from a person's hand."

BrEaNs

Outside of Time Response/Rant: A long standing feeling of mine is that science/math are inherently a human things that have their humanity obfuscated for a variety of reasons. There’s this quote from the poet Elizabeth Bishop about Charles Darwin that I think about a lot: “Reading Darwin, one admires the beautiful solid case being built up out of his endless heroic observations, almost unconscious or automatic -- and then comes a sudden relaxation, a forgetful phase and one feels the strangeness of his undertaking, sees the lonely young man, his eyes fixed on facts and minute details, sinking or sliding giddily off into the unknown.” As a working scientist, I’m doing my best work when I feel a cosmic sense of connection to what I’m studying that extends past its “value.” No matter how abstract my study object is, it becomes like a person and I’m able to give Odell’s connective attention to it and respect it in a rewarding way. But, the typical portrait of math/science disregards this human striving for a more “objective” vision. Science and math classes don’t (and probably can’t) model the process of discovery that actually doing science and math entails; instead homework and exams lean heavily towards single, objective answers and limited insight is given into how, why, and who created the things studied in the class. This way of engaging with science and math in school is comforting to many, myself included, but it seemingly creates some problems like those discussed in this chapter. If computer science is thought of as something for geniuses who are clued into something “complicated” and not as an avenue for humanity’s striving for connection, then the discipline will self-select for the antisocial. “One engineer always eats his dessert first (he does this conscientiously; he wants you—dares you—to say something; you simply don’t).” (pg. 11) I feel the vibe of this guy in my skin and hate that such behavior could be seen as a sign of intelligence and thus rewarded. It’s especially upsetting because the kinds of antisocial attitudes have immense political impacts post gamergate. These communities of “intelligent” men keep having moments where outsiders become too prominent and they lash out and become reactionaries. New atheism broke apart over elevatorgate (a debate over whether a woman could feel uncomfortable being hit on in an elevator), gamergate was about women entering gaming spaces, tech communities are increasingly turning towards fascism in response to growing critique, etc. We’re a point now where the Republican VP nominee is a Peter Theil guy who is seemingly getting Trump to go to Bitcoin conferences and add being pro-growing AI at the expense of the climate to the campaign platform. I don’t really know what the solution is, but I think the “add subjectivity to science” thing of this book club is a key part of it. — Other things I liked in the chapter: “I thought, and I admit the software had more life for me than my brief love affair, my friends, my cat, my house, my neighbor who was stabbed and nearly killed by her husband.” Really beautifully sad sentence about obsession and alienation that I also feel in my bones. I also like the connection Ullman makes between the antisocial/pro-capitlaism nature of tech communities and on demand products that discourage human connection (pg. 17). Also a very key part of why modern politics is how it is.

benedict.m

"You must not be interrupted. Any break in your listening causes you to lose a line here or there. Some bit comes; then–oh no–it's leaving, please come back. It may not come back. You may lose it. You will create a bug and there's nothing you can do about it ... This is normal life for a programmer: problems trailing behind you through time." <4> "I wondered about his mind, if it was spare and precise like his body; if it was gentling and calming like his voice ... He sat inches from me, but in what way was I permitted to know him?" <22> ok I wasn't expecting THIS. from looking up Ellen Ullman I thought this book might be doing some similar things to YANaG: painting a picture of the early internet & tech around it and making some prophetic statements about their future, etc etc. and she does do that! a lot better than Lanier imo: "The computer is about to enter our lives like blood into the capillaries. Soon, everywhere we look, we will see pretty, idiot-proof interfaces designed to make us say, 'OK.'" <16> but what I WASN'T prepared for was to be fucking floored by Ullman's writing. her voice is so clear and perceptive and blunt when she's describing her work environments, the cultures of the many conferences, computers being idiots; but even within that tone you can always feel this underlying sensitivity in how she writes. this warmth, this passionate observation that comes to the forefront in the second chapter when she's talking about Karl. it's stunning. i'm feeling resistant to saying any more. i had trouble putting this much into words, partly because i can tell this book is going to become a part of me and i feel precious with my experience of it, reluctant to filter it into book club discussion; but also because jesus fucking christ this hit way too close to home. but fuck it i'll be a little vulnerable it's just the internet. i've fallen in love with someone mostly through fb messenger before. we were in the same circles in college, but didn't really talk except over text. that's where we knew each other. the immediacy of text is weird and kind of fucked up and robs us of a lot of what communication actually is, but in the right context it has this undeniable electric intimacy. no matter where you are, no matter what you're doing, this Most Important Person can say something to you, personally, through the little portal in your pocket. you develop rhythms that are entirely unique to this medium and to each other, you learn nuanced ways to use your punctuation and abbreviation to enhance meaning, you create a new language. but it doesn't fully exist in real time. it doesn't quite come together. "Karl was who he was, a man who came alive through words on a screen. There was no use expecting more of him." <37> unsurprisingly, this relationship never coalesced in the real world. always too much friction, too much haze. it's hard to imagine, when you're experiencing something like that, that other people "get it." but I know Ullman does. and like a lot of other people have said, this is what i didn't realize was so painfully absent from Lanier's writing: love. what it feels like to be a person immersed in technology. human souls feeling shit and fuck. god this book is gonna do stuff to me isn't it. thank u and fuck u CJ

silentcrystaltears

first proper book club post, a day late in spite of doing the reading early - oh well. this book is proving to be very enjoyable to read! i read some of it to my dad in the car today, which is fun because as a techie himself he knows exactly the kinds of unix machines ullman is talking about, and exactly the kind of culture she’s talking about. “We wanted to stay where we were, in the overwhelming sensation of words, machine, imagination.” pg. 30 “Which should I have believed: this body absent talk or his staying with me on this deserted stormy beach?” pg. 35-36 “Karl was who he was, a man who came alive through words on a screen. There was no use expecting more of him.” pg. 37 i can feel so much of the end of ch2 in my bones, getting irritated at little changes in message formula, excitements and anxieties of speaking with someone in person for the first time(or in her case, for the first time in this particular context), not knowing how to speak at first, and ultimately realizing that the charismatic affect you had sensed in your dialogue isn’t, and maybe never was, really there.. it hits me in a good way and a bad way. … i am also unfortunately(?) drawn to think about libby and matt’s void sex dream world as i read things like “Immediately the body in the machine had returned us to each other. In this interchange there is the memory of the beach, its feel and smell, mentions of beds and sleep. “Bed,” a word we would never say in actual presence, a kind of touch by word we could only do with our machines” pg. 37 so maybe the folgerscest community can claim that quote idk. the folgers video was powerful to me in sort of similar ways as this chapter is, if that makes sense.

valentin

I am writing this from Toronto. I came here to meet the people I have worked with and gotten to know the past year. CJ has fled the city in a futile attempt to escape my powerful aura, but not for long. saba is flying in tomorrow. Adison will soon follow. Even Annie Liz is here, although in doll form because of scheduling conflicts. Soon I will be in arms reach of people I have grown to care about a lot. I will be perceiving them with all of my senses. The miopic square image of them in front of their laptops will soon explode into a caleidscope of three dimensional person-ness. The thought of that is as exhilerating as it is frightening. "Panic: We will have to speak. We will have to know when to talk and when to listen. We have no practice in this. All we know is we must type "r" and reply, reply right now. Without the press of the system, how will we find the auditory, physical rhythm of speech?" Even though Ullman is speaking of another medium I deeply relate to her fear of being ripped out of a comfortable form of communication into the vulnarable state that is synchronous human communication. It is simply impossible to know if my being will translate from a discord call into being in the same room at the same time. Still, I would choose an akward greeting and a moment of silence over the digital forever. Love over Fear. Life before death. I am already mourning a time that hasn't even begun yet. In T minus 10 days I will be stepping onto a plane and flying back to Vienna. My days will be hours out of sync with my no longer just hyperreal friends. I won't be able to touch them, to eat with them or to walk alongside them. It will all be gone as quickly as it came. But I am holding out hope. Hope that once I am back in Europe, sitting in front of my laptop, a little bit of their warmth will bleed into my room together with the blue light of my screen. And hope that this is the first time we meet and by far not the last.

yennik arual

i have used this book as an opportunity to connect two friends of mine that don't know each other but are learning to code and eventually work in games. yesterday i brought them together to talk about the first two chapters (they're loving it btw, and instantly understood being close to the machine, which took me a little bit to get). they got on well, and have more overlapping experiences with each other than with myself. getting started, i was distracted from reading moments in because i needed to note for future me that i was Reading, and wanted to get used to the note taking function or whatever in the pdf hoster thing on my pc. which led me to adjust another note in my notes app, and then when i returned to ullman the next sentence was "You must not lose your own attention" (9) lol. the aggression online in Come In, CQ reminded me of an acquaintance of mine that relishes in the aesthetic of trolling , like idk what he thinks but he performs trolling and argument-baits more than like. actual politicking. probs an avid greentext reader, but he does it so much that it's now impossible to tell his real beliefs and it just makes talking to him boring. but the parallel came up when ullman's colleagues would be relatively placid or well-meaning in one-on-one emails, compared to the dogpile of insults in the public threads. if anyone confronted this person i know in a public / group context about something he'd double down but if you asked him privately to shut up about it he'd actually sincerely consider it and you'd never hear him say x dogwhistle again. idk it just makes me think of some connection between the software engineers of the 90s and the 4channers of the 2010s....... hmhmhm

Lou Corben

Outside of Time REFLECTIONS ON THE PROGRAMMING LIFE **A response in the form of a WhatsApp conversation with my friend who just moved to Barcelona, and is a programmer, as I re-read it, until he got either bored or too tired idk. I thought about editing this down but thought it’d hide the nature of the conversation and wouldn’t be in the spirit of the book** [31/07/2024, 19:50:43] Lou: anyway i’m reading about computer you love computer [31/07/2024, 19:50:49] Ant: ?? [31/07/2024, 19:51:40] Lou: “If you are a programmer, it is guaranteed that your work has errors. These errors will be discovered over time, most coming to light after you’ve moved on to a new job. But your name is on the program. The code library software keeps a permanent record card of who did what and when. At the old job, they will say terrible things about you after you’ve gone.” [31/07/2024, 19:52:02] Lou: “humiliation in absentia.” [31/07/2024, 19:52:26] Ant: Who says it's humiliating?? [31/07/2024, 19:52:34] Lou: Ellen Ullman [31/07/2024, 19:52:43] Ant: That last bit is definitely true though. [31/07/2024, 19:52:49] Lou: this whole book so far is “programmers are freaks here’s why” lol [31/07/2024, 19:54:53] Ant: Why you reading that lol [31/07/2024, 20:00:47] Lou: book club [31/07/2024, 20:01:07] Ant: Ah [31/07/2024, 20:05:18] Lou: there is some sort of eldritch horror religious fervour to some of it [31/07/2024, 20:05:38] Lou: “Here are the reasons Frank wanted to be closer to the machine: The machine means midnight dinners of Diet Coke. It means unwashed clothes and bare feet on the desk. It means anxious rides through mind-time that have nothing to do with the clock. To work on things used only by machines or other programmers—that’s the key. Programs and machines don’t care how you live. They don’t care when you live. You can stay, come, go, sleep, or not. At the end of the project looms a deadline, the terrible place where you must get off the train. But in between, for years at a stretch, you are free: free from the obligations of time.” [31/07/2024, 20:06:20] Ant: I think I used to work with that guy [31/07/2024, 20:06:27] Lou: haha [31/07/2024, 20:06:56] Lou: it’s lovecraftian [31/07/2024, 20:08:09] Lou: "My office mate Frank was a man vastly unhappy in his work. He looked over my shoulder, everyone’s shoulder, trying to get away from the indignity of writing a program used by normal human beings. This affected his work. His program was not all it should have been, and for this he was punished. His punishment was to have to talk to regular people.” [31/07/2024, 20:10:49] Ant: Ha [31/07/2024, 20:11:44] Lou: do you think computers prompted the new atheist movement? [31/07/2024, 20:12:01] Lou: like on a philosophical level, not just like.. because of online discussions [31/07/2024, 20:12:18] Lou: like this overemphasis on rationality born out of computer-think [31/07/2024, 20:12:21] Ant: No [31/07/2024, 20:12:26] Lou: oh [31/07/2024, 20:12:28] Lou: why? [31/07/2024, 20:15:26] Ant: I think rising atheism is a result of reduced poverty/post industrialised western society. Post-war American boom, mass production of the car, or the smallpox vaccine probably did more for atheism than the computer imo. [31/07/2024, 20:16:42] Lou: yeah but i mean like the big online boom that led to 4chan nonsense rather than atheism generally [31/07/2024, 20:17:05] Lou: why the car? [31/07/2024, 20:17:52] Ant: I think that's just the output of something that starts way before that. [31/07/2024, 20:19:12] Ant: Because think how much it unlocks for a society. Quite apart from the jobs and wealth creation from building them - it hugely broadens horizons and grants so much independence [31/07/2024, 20:20:05] Lou: why does that make people not believe in God tho? [31/07/2024, 20:20:12] Ant: I'd be interested to see like church attendance over time in us/UK, but I suspect the decline started well before internet grew in popularity [31/07/2024, 20:21:58] Ant: Because I think religion is largely a fear response to the unknown. So not having agency when it comes to wealth creation, or your health, or being able to read etc. So anything that improves people's lives in that way reduces that fear. [31/07/2024, 20:22:55] Lou: yeah that makes sense [31/07/2024, 20:23:16] Lou: pando has made a lot of people religious or at least spiritual [31/07/2024, 20:23:23] Lou: but like… pragmatically, so what? [31/07/2024, 20:23:57] Lou: like new atheism is its own kind of religious intolerance [31/07/2024, 20:24:20] Ant: Fair point [31/07/2024, 20:24:55] Lou: it is fucking roasting today [31/07/2024, 20:26:02] Ant: Don't even. It's still 32 here. [31/07/2024, 20:28:12] Lou: least you’re by the sea [31/07/2024, 20:28:57] Ant: True. Was 44 in Zaragoza today 🥵🥵 [31/07/2024, 20:29:24] Lou: where is that? [31/07/2024, 20:29:28] Ant: It's actually shocking how little I actually see the sea tbh ha [31/07/2024, 20:29:53] Ant: North central spain. Like 150km West of BCN I reckon. [31/07/2024, 20:29:57] Lou: it’s so hot i’m actually looking forward to going back to liverpool to be cooler 😂 [31/07/2024, 20:30:04] Ant: Ha [31/07/2024, 20:30:07] Lou: i bet it stinks [31/07/2024, 20:30:15] Lou: London stank when it was only 40 [31/07/2024, 20:34:45] Lou: this american author has just used the phrase “bolloxed up” lol [31/07/2024, 20:36:51] Lou: “Sleep or order a pizza: it no longer matters exactly what we do when. We don’t need to involve anyone else in the satisfaction of our needs. We don’t even have to talk. We get our services when we want them, free from the obligations of regularly scheduled time. We can all live closer to the machine.” - she wrote this part in 1994 🫠🫠 [31/07/2024, 20:37:25] Ant: Ha [31/07/2024, 20:45:35] Lou: are you a programmer? or a software engineer? or what? [31/07/2024, 20:51:57] Ant: They're all the same thing really [31/07/2024, 20:52:25] Lou: this lady said something different, but she is from 1994 so maybe it was more differentiated [31/07/2024, 20:52:39] Lou: ok how close to the machine do you think you are? [31/07/2024, 20:58:35] Ant: Ye I think we evolved beyond that. I think programmer just means like pure coding. No soft skills at all. But we don't really let people do that any more. [31/07/2024, 20:59:24] Ant: I'm senior these days, so probably further away than I used to be lol [31/07/2024, 20:59:33] Lou: because it makes you (one) insufferable? lol [31/07/2024, 21:00:21] Lou: oh right - the book says the more senior people were closer to it and the closer you were the more respect people had for you and the more eccentrically you were allowed to behave (in 1994) [31/07/2024, 21:01:58] Ant: Ye that's what's not allowed any more ha. There's still a bit of it tbh, but a lot of effort goes into not having like single silos of knowledge [31/07/2024, 21:02:37] Lou: well that’s good because she makes it sound extremely toxic [31/07/2024, 21:01:58] Ant: 👍 – A few further thoughts: userfriendly design as contempt for humanity makes me think of artists/arts orgs/hollywood producers “dumbing down” art for “general audiences” and elitism in art. But now movies have been dumbed down for so long that people *are* actually losing the ability to understand any art that doesn’t directly tell you what it’s about [insert rant about Poor Things] I would really like to get a flip phone but the one thing I’d like to hang on to is whatsapp. I really enjoy being able to send and receive voice notes. They just feel a little more human but without the immediacy/urgency of a phonecall. ***Come in, CQ*** Let’s talk about yearning. I have been in my yearning era lately. I’ve been chronically single for about 10 years now - since around the time dating apps blew up, but let’s not go down that rabbit hole. I’ve not yet picked up Existential Kink, which CJ talked about in their conversation with Living Philosophy (I think) but the idea of it really resonated with me. In the 10 years I’ve been on a lot of first dates, only one of which has briefly developed into something more, and have had a few one night stands that turned into fuckbuddy scenarios (I think that’s what the kids are calling a situationship). None of this has been through any kind of intentional/conscious avoidance of relationships, but I do think I’ve been protecting my heart too closely, having been hurt by situationships, and having felt caged by my last real relationship all those years ago. I haven’t allowed myself to feel attracted to people often, and I haven’t let myself be vulnerable. And yes, some of it is my own self-preservation, but it’s exacerbated by everyone being driven into further isolation by capitalism and tech and dating apps’ illusion of choice. This is starting to slowly slowly change for me, partly with the help of new-found spiritual practice which is helping me reflect more, and this KTI space driving me to find community and embodied experience. But the lingering effects of crushing loneliness are still there. Like Ellen and Frank, I find myself constructing ways to hold on to the delicious pain of yearning. I avoid looking directly at my crush’s Instagram stories and find ways to see it without appearing on their views. I put off sending that “hey let’s get that coffee” text…. I think about ways I can leave cryptic and denyable clues on my Instagram so I don’t have to really be vulnerable because last time I was, around a year go when I decided it’s time to break this pattern, I got hurt. I enjoy the yearning so I don’t get caged again and so I don’t get hurt. “What a strange thing it is. To feel closer to someone when you're further apart. Maybe we never actually wanted to be close to each other, but just to *something*. And it's easier to get close to something you molded into your very own idea of perfection than to something unpredictable that may disappoint. Closer to the machine, if I'm interpreting the term correctly.” - capybyara In a few weeks I’m moving away from the city we both live in, and hope I can learn to be more vulnerable back in London. I think there’s a way that (likely) autism plays into my story, as well as Frank’s. I found myself frustrated with him like Ellen was, but also empathised with the fact that he clearly enjoyed the date (the thank you email), even if he wasn’t able to show it outwardly in-person, even if he could do it online. I could never say all of this to anyone IRL, except maybe my therapist. “We “code switched” - changed modes of communication - as we found it necessary…. not all women can code switch” I think about the gendered difference between autistic men and women - how autistic women have to code switch into masking-mode and do the emotional labour, more often than autistic men have to, and how this applies to dating. I think I’m often both frustrated by and jealous of the autistic men I date/want to date. But I also think I need to stop bothering going on dates with any neurotypicals. And I am *tired*. So, I will be picking up a copy of Existential Kink. Cheers X

reva

i am fascinated by ullman's description of coding as trying to keep up an uninterrupted stream of consciousness for as long as possible, in order to keep track of everything you are doing and avoid missing the slightest detail. it reminded me of you are not a gadget explaining that programmers love to create new little programs and hate to manage existing, sprawling programs with countless bugs – when you are trying to fix somebody else's program, you have to extend yourself to try and understand their thought process in order to track down their bugs. when multiple people have created a program together, that's multiple trains of thought that sometimes intersect and sometimes split apart, creating any number of bugs for any number of different reasons. no wonder programmers prefer not to collaborate with people. must be easier to track down bugs when you have an idea of which bugs your own brain would have created. the asynchrony of programming time blew my mind a little bit. that really is the way we all live now! the internet existing in pretty much the same way at all times of day compels us to lose any semblance of a real-life schedule. of course the engineer lifestyle leaks its way into our lifestyles, they're the ones creating the technology that defines our way of life! (you are not a gadget again!!) after reading these chapters, i worked on a creative project that had me hyperfocused for a few hours until reaching a like "first draft" phase. when i looked at it the next day, i realized i couldn't really edit anything unless i dedicated another uninterrupted couple of hours to doing so, as i needed to have every detail of the project readily accessible in my brain to be able to effectively make any progress. and i was like, this is asynchrony! i think it's really valuable for me to view making creative projects in this way, i think it will help me balance my time spent creating things in mind time and my time spent living in real time. i don't really know enough about human psychology to have developed thoughts about this, but i'm now really curious about how time spent in mind time vs real time affects maturity. maybe programmers who spend their lives close to the machine never develop certain human skills that require living in real time to develop. programming is difficult, but it's difficult in a very specific way, and it seems like the "low" senior research engineers ullman described don't have to deal with a lot of difficult things due to their positions (taking care of yourself, having a daily routine, managing work relationships and friendships and family). so they're like min-maxed characters in a video game, able to handle programming really well but absolutely nothing else. ullman's description of loneliness online really resonates with how lonely i felt when i used to use twitter. it didn't really make sense to me, because i was technically posting and reading replies and replying to other people. i was interacting with people, in a way. but only in a very disconnected way that removed most of the identities of the people i was talking to. i knew most people as their pfps and bios and which characters they liked (i was mostly on fandom twitter). i felt really anxious interacting with almost anybody, because what if my reply to their post is overfamiliar? we've been mutuals for months, but are we actually close enough to have a conversation? i would be privy to friends (who developed most of their friendship off of twitter, but also interacted on twitter) talking to each other on long twitter reply threads and feel so jealous. what do i have to do to create those relationships with the people i think are cool on this website? ultimately the answer was to 1. make discord servers with people and actually talk to them and 2. make friends in real life lmao. but both of these things mostly happen by chance and can't be forced, so there was an interim time where i had nothing to do but call out for company into the digital snow. very very happy we're doing book club again, this book looks fantastic so far. hope you all are doing well <3

Emma d

I thought I'd weigh in on why some of us feel a pull to be close to the machine from a more positive perspective. Computers are magical. We're all so used to them now but imagine showing one to someone a thousand years ago. It's like a reality is contained within something so small and the screen is your window into it, and it's not at ALL obvious while you're using it how it works (thus, magic!). And as someone who knows a little bit about programming because I'm married to a software engineer, the idea that you can code a little reality of your own is so alluring (IMAGO DEI anyone??). My husband also is interested in science and philosophy (like I am), and being a software engineer makes him use coding terms when he talks about them, like "the source code of reality" or "a priori knowledge is like coming into reality with pre-downloaded features" haha. We're Christians (but perhaps anyone who believes in God will resonate with the following), and he loves the idea that coding is like humanity's imitation of what God did to construct reality and let it run. It's SO fascinating that the Bible says that creation obeys God's eternal word, like how a program obeys the code (the LANGUAGE, it's WORDS) of the software engineer (also a quick aside on God's eternal word, if it were "written down" in some way like idk a metaphysical source code, then that would explain how a word he spoke is actually reverberating constantly throughout eternity). I love those parallels between creating little realities on a computer and how the Bible describes how God created grand reality. And when you study science, it's absolutely wild how objects seem to simply obey fundamental rules about reality, transcribed by humans in the language of math. Almost like... reality has a source code. And if reality does indeed have a source code, a mind must have written it up. Computers and the realities they contain couldn't have come about without the creative, personal minds of human beings.

Emma d

Different thought than my other comment! FIRST please check out the song that kept reverberating through my mind while reading this book, "Machine" by Regina Spektor (I'll paste some lyrics in a reply to this). "Only the barest percentage of humans on earth was connected to the internet, and even those were not continuously logged on to email. Computer scientists were there, engineers and programmers: the group leading the way to nearly continuous lives on the wire, the programming life that awaited us all." - Chapter 2 I love the compare and contrast she set up here between how programmers are in chapter one to stating this in chapter two. Programmers don't dislike people, they just love the train ride of getting closer to the machine, and they must not be interrupted by people. Most times that manifests itself as them having antisocial traits, little to no personal lives. And sometimes they don't even talk to their fellow human beings, they talk to the machine almost exclusively. And she astutely recognized that soon that will be everyone. But I think the difference between programmers and everyone else is that programmers are consciously choosing the machine, and everyone else doesn't realize that they're getting closer to the machine by being chronically online (not closer in the way programmers are, but more isolated from embodied fellow human beings by choosing to interface with the machine instead of people). This gets even more strange if you introduce dead internet theory into the mix. Whole swaths of the online space have been taken over by bots talking to bots making stuff for bots while no one is watching, and when a human wanders in they don't always realize that they aren't talking to actual people. We're all getting closer to the machine but it's not in the way programmers do, who have a love for the machine that I actually relate to (you can read my other comment on this above). But a love for the machine doesn't translate to a healthy relationship with it, and Ullman did a great job giving me peeks into why through the stories she's told so far.

sophiaswhirld

— outside of time Oh, hello, new book! I’m participating in book club now that I have a bit of time away from university, and this one resonates with a specific sect of my design studies involving UI/UX. For the prolonged hell that was Interactive Media I and II, I found myself obsessed with coming closer to the machine. I’ll spare the details now, but I was borderline running an app design project and never progressed past prototyping (the woes of a 16 week long semester). I had never even dared to think about myself jumping into development; I always thought of myself as on the art side of things. But I can confidently say that after wireframing, organizing, and spending more time with Figma than my friends for the better part of a year, I am moving closer to the machine. “Real time was no longer compelling…I was making something out of nothing, I thought, and I admit the software had more life for me than my brief love affair, my friends, my cat, my house, my neighbor who was stabbed and killed by her husband. I was creating (“creating”—that’s the word we used)…” (6). I am so thoroughly on the train. I like to think I’m on the train through Austria in Before Sunrise, mainly because I just watched it in June and can’t seem to get Julie Delpy out of my head. I digress. I recognize the passion (obsession) that programmers have for their work. The code is a part of them as their fingers, points of contact, where ‘digits’ are as tech as flesh. Do you think that these programmers from the ’90s were trying to escape death through the machine? They acted as if they were above it all, debating genocide over coffee; from every instance of Ullman’s description of low-level programmers, I see people melding with the machine, achieving asynchrony, because they know that which is imperfect will expire. The desire to float above impulses is too great; to inch closer to the machine is to become closer to God. The machine only accepts perfection in code, re: all the instances of programmers weeding out bugs in code and culling the disease that impedes the system from functioning. They’re dumb-gods. We’ll get to revolutionizing the smart-god later. “In meetings, they behave like children…the research team behaves badly, bickers, has the audacity to ask when they’ll get paid. The Japanese [funders] don’t seem to mind. On the contrary, they appeared delighted. They have purchased bizarre and brilliant Californians who can behave anyway they like. The odd behavior reassures them: Ah! These must be real top-rate engineers!” (12). All money, power, and ego. I am grateful to be barely adjacent to this world, but who knows, I could be sitting at a whiteboard trying to design with a “can-only-talk-through-email guy.” I could end up as email-guy. We’ll see <3 I do recognize my disdain for real-time, however: “It’s not just ego that prevents programmers from working in groups—it’s the synchrony problem. To synchronize with other people (or their representation in telephones, buzzers, and doorbells) can only mean interrupting the thought train” (5). Remember that group project I mentioned before? I was in a group with 7 other people, all of us clueless in UI/UX. We had trouble meeting deadlines (the cishet men had the most difficulty with that one), coordinating schedules, completing our divided prototyping responsibilities, and more I don’t care to count. I wasn’t going to submit a sub-par final, and my TYPE A perfectionism reared its head. I completely overhauled the stuff everyone designed, except my one friend’s work, who had my back through the whole ordeal. I hated that project so much, but believe me, it would’ve been a whole lot worse if we didn’t speak face to face. +1 for real-time human connection! Other thoughts: I love how Ullman writes, it’s effortless to fall into her writing; it’s fun to see how I’m on the edge of “living the program life: alone, floating in mind-time, disdainful of anyone far from the machine,” (17) but in a bit of an anti- way. Design gives me the purpose to compose and reach people. I have no drive to become a “low” designer because I only want enough money to provide myself living necessities, I don’t care for stock options. They symbolize a world too removed from people—they’re the type of person who can look someone removed from their orbit in the eyes and see a husk unworthy of attention. I’m using design as an art form, not as solely as a tool, and that’s exactly what I want to keep doing. — come in, cq “‘CQ, CQ. Come in CQ.’ Seek you. I seek you” (19). CONNECTION!! “We on the Bulletin Board were the new ham radio operators, I thought, the descendants of Eugene: we were scattered across the globe; we found communion through the love of our machines” (21). I suppose we could be considered the descendants of Ellen. The reason why I’m posting all these thoughts is to see what you all think of them. Maybe you caught something that resonated with you, and I certainly will reach out to you through your posts. While I am chronically online, I never comment anything on anyone’s posts, nor do I post my own art (Art sin!! Ahhh!) This is my tentative shout into the void; I want to be a part of a community, and not through the lurker identity I’ve cultivated over the past 8 or so years. Why not connect with those in person? I’ve tried, and still I am! But there’s always been this pull away from my city; I haven’t found an access-point into subcultures I want to be a part of yet. University/work are great pulls to stay closer to the machine. I go back to university in about 2 weeks, hot off the trail from completing some summer classes. In these two weeks, I’m making it my goal to create more art and participate in this book club; connection is the remedy for spiritual ailments, after all. “One ten-year radioman, Petty Officer Tony Turner, talked about losing the feel of the sender. The transmission came ‘through the air, into another man’s ear,’ he said. The code had a personality to it, a signature in the touch and rhythm on the key. For Turner, the signature’s origin was no mystery: ‘It was coming from a person’s hand” (38). I love this paragraph! It reminds me of early Tumblr and learning HTML to code personal blogs <3. I watched the conversation with Water Silk a few weeks ago, and that reinvigorated my desire to learn coding. I think this book is the final push into the sea. I want to use tech to connect to people and stop it from using my mind for whatever nefarious things Musk and the Zuck are cooking up. Other thoughts: “The feel of continent’s end, a gritty beach at the western edge of the city” (35). Ullman’s prose strikes again~ (Also, it’s so funny talking about love for the machine after I just rewatched The Matrix trilogy and Resurrections a week ago--)

Flora

First book club oh yeah >:) Ulmann’s narrative voice is so delicious. Feeling deeply numb! While also desperately scrambling to crush yearning that bubbles up! Is too relatable and I want to close the tab /scared but her writing is too beautiful and I will crush my screen and put the book in my mouth first /positive. Atm I am reconnecting with a very important close friend who I Did Adolescence With, physically at high school for a couple years but mostly through dms as her family moved overseas. Now via texts as we are both at uni (Same island different cities). The email - irl scene is so viscerally relatable. Firstly, for normal female autistic people things, @Lou Corben I felt very understood by your description. But primarily because the heartbreak of someone’s internet persona staying intense, deeply intimate and consistent but then meeting up irl and seeing personality has changed without you and knowing it’ll happen again without you is a funny kind of mourning I haven’t felt in any other internet specific media until now.

Kiara

GOD YES! THIS GIRL GETS IT! Though much of life in technology has changed, I see myself in these stories, and i see the whispers of other women i know in these stories. But, things have changed. These days the big companies arent that close to the machine. I mean, its all on AWS, or someone who repackaged AWS. Engineers of the 2000s-2010s in startup culture would have beer taps rather than the intimate lonely relationship with the machine. Dude i work on a mac, someone else does the infrastructure. I work on the back of giants ill never know. Google Guice, Jersey, Mesos, well, since googles abandoning that, Kubernetes, JUnit, all hosted on… AWS. God i dont even know how javascript would survive without NPM and its contributors. GitHub. That website i use to capture requests for free. mocky.io, GLITCH.COM MAN! Everythings so big and interconnected now. Computer Science has enough people that its not just Eugenes anymore. BUT. i have met so many Eugenes. I think they tend to be in discord servers these days. Or on reddit. I think they get more chatter than HAM radio officiandos, but i think they still have that same loneliness and same desire to connect expressed by discussing The Interest. Things are different. And yet the same. “Ironically, those of us who believe in physical, operational eloquence are the very ones most cut off from the body. To builds the working thing that is a program, we perform “labor” that odds sedentary to the point of near immobility, and we give ourselves up almost entirely to language.” My neck is always tight. I think if i stretched everyday it wouldnt be, but I don’t. My morning routine is bring my oatmeal to my desk and turning on my dual motha fuckin monitors. I bought the Herman Miller chair, but still catch myself sitting like Gollum. I have to remind myself to sit up straight. Sometimes I do neck exercises. But thats only when i think about it. When you are in the code, you arent thinking about your body. So my neck is always going to be tight My eyes never feel quite right. Its because i ignore my 20-20-20 reminders. Every 20 minutes you should look 20 feet away for 20 seconds. I stretch my eye muscles by looking back and forth between my nose and a distant light post. And that helps. But I always ignore the notification cause i am busy, i need to focus, whatever. I haven’t felt the toll on my hands yet. My hips sometimes get tight from being Seated for so long. And like, whatever, these are the complaints of all office workers. Sedentary computer life bad, everybody been on this. I just think ruminating on the effect this lifestyle has on me is Worth It. its Interesting. There is something about committing your life to the machine, something compelling to me in the physical transformations my body will take as I age into senior engineer roles. I will try to mitigate the effects, but I know what Im like when i code, and i do not be giving a fuck about my Body! I Am Cut Off From My Body. We are cut off from The Body! The best line from these chapters was definitely: “I realized that we had finally gone out to dinner only to… exchange email.” YEAHHHHH YEAAAAAHHH TRUE

sophiaswhirld

THIS!! YOU'RE SO RIGHT--Everything falls away whenever I sit in front of my monitor to design. I'm not a body; I'm a conduit for the fuckshow running around in my brain that demands me to push pixels. Bodies are temporary, art is forever~~ I haven't thought of that 20-20-20 exercise before; I will steal that and offer you this in return: yoga! I've adopted it as a physical and spiritual practice to center my mind and research Buddhism, specifically learning about Indra's net, which will definitely send the best of us down a spiral. I love it, though. This obsession that creatives (from engineers to artists) have to create the most dazzling things out of sheer will is my favorite thing about being alive. Cutting oneself from the body only to return and push it to physical extremes is sickening, and I wouldn't trade it for anything else.

thegrimlessreaper

First book club post! I tried sitting down and writing this in a Google Doc in a more formal voice but I got massive writer's block by doing that (perhaps a bit too reminiscent of discussion posts in college, who knows). *so here i am on the floor of my room trying this again in my notes app.* I work as a software developer (not really close to the machine tbh), and having relatively recently graduated college, the first chapter is already starting to give me a good feeling of how I should approach the art of programming in a more professional environment (as opposed to college). this is especially relevant to me because i have minimal mentorship specifically in terms of programmers (multinational company, but small enough that our branch only has me, a lowly new college grad, employed as a programmer, all of the other programmers are in different time zones). I have a feeling that this book will be able to serve me as a mentor in more ways than just what I'll discuss in my post. *ive now decided to go outside to watch the sunset while writing.* All of that is just context for my personal connection (or, more precisely, an anecdote) to these passages: "People imagine that programmers don’t like to talk because they prefer machines to people. This is not completely true. Programmers don’t talk because they must not be interrupted" (pg 4); "To synchronize with other people (or their representation in telephones, buzzers, and doorbells) can only mean interrupting the thought train. Interruptions mean certain bugs. You must not get off the train" (pg 5). I had an impromptu conversation with my (non programmer) manager today about potential future arrangements for WFH (rn I'm hybrid, 2 days in office) and I referenced this passage when presenting my case for full (or rather, fuller) WFH. This idea of flow state as applied to programming which is presented in these passages is something that I've known intellectually as being a thing for awhile but have always felt that it wasn't something that I should validate for myself. In college, programming was something I had to do when I got time in between my busy schedule of classes, clubs, and other extracurriculars, and now it's... my fucking job (!?). I'm actually allowed to get into a flow state now, which wasn't a thing that I could've, or really had to do, back in college. *going outside was a cute idea but now ive been eaten up by mosquitos, back inside.* In college, I very frequently didn't need a flow state, and I was able to let my brain passively figure out a problem while doing something else. This is something that I've utilized to "translate between the chaos of human life and the line-by-line world of computer language" (pg 4). Sometimes a brain just needs less load in order to figure out something complicated. If programming has taught me anything, it's that human brains and behavior are weird (see "In the designer's mind, gradually, over months and years, there is created a vision of the user as imbecile" (pg 16)), and for any non programmers reading this, I hope that this book will show you that as well. Everyone else has already said what I wanted to say about the second chapter, and I feel like I had a lot more to say about this first chapter just because of where I'm at in life now (ie started a career). Excited to see where this all goes!

Teageen

I havent finished reading this segment yet, but so far, as an autistic woman, I am feeling a bit alienated by what seems like ableism against neurodiverse folks in this book. She is talking about people being "weird" in a way that seems pretty judgmental and hostile. particularly around dress codes and irl talking vs emails. and I am wondering if anyone else feels this way?

Willow S

I'm in college right now studying statistics, but with a minor in one of the humanities (haven't stuck to one yet). A lot of my major involves programming, but not on the same level as a CS degree or something similar. Though, I do go to a primarily engineering school, so many of my friends are doing a lot more programming both during and after college. Anyway, that all means that I've split my time in classes between history/anthropology classes and math/stat/programming classes, where you can really tell the differences in mindset and ideology (not political, just general) between professors in these different fields. My humanities professors often have spent over a decade each doing on-the-ground work in their area of study, living with the people in these areas (primarily Lebanon/Israel-Palestine and Colombia/Peru). Their goal in these classes is to incorporate as much humanity into their teaching as they can, to really get their students to understand how people live, especially outside of the internet. They tend to be mild-mannered people with strong ideological convictions, and they care deeply about their work, because it reflects the lives of the people they've studied in-person (especially in anthropology). On the other side of things, you have the professors for my STEM classes. There's more variance here, but in general, both professors and grad students teaching these courses either have seemingly no passion for what they do, or they only express passion for the numbers and game of it all. Since work in statistics often uses programming as a tool, rather than a way of being, I am not as connected to the mindset Ullman describes of her coworkers (where users need everything "dumbed down" to be usable). But, I can still feel how these professors imply their intellectual superiority over people who can't or don't want to understand precise, mathematical/computer language. "And then: our conversation had an all too familiar feel. One talked, stopped; the other replied, stopped. An hour later, we were still in this same rhythm. One: stop. The other: stop. With a shock, I realized that we had finally gone out to dinner only to ... exchange email. I could see the subject headings flying back and forth, even the interpolations." (34) I've also noticed myself falling into this sort of pattern at times. It happens with online behavior dictating my behavior in-person, but other activities can take over my behavior as well. For example, whenever I'm on a speedrunning kick, I tend to think of my life in terms of where I can find more efficient, quick, fluid ways to approach tasks. Or, I've been getting into a game called Diplomacy, which is like if chess had 7 players on a world map who can talk to each other. It's all about negotiation and making and breaking alliances and stabbing other players. There's far more communication here with other people, even online (how I play), but it's as artificial as communication via email or social media. And yet, I find myself thinking of how I can improve my alliance with someone, or how to negotiate with a friend to find mutual success in something. But it can help with skills I have yet to develop, like setting boundaries and being able to ask for help from people, whether friend or stranger. Maybe it's me being autistic, or maybe it's far more widespread than that, I don't know. Last little note: "In this online battle, there is no sight of the victim’s defensive posture, of course, no expression of fear and dismay; the wire gives off no smell of a human under attack. The object of attack must tough it out or quit." (26) This is an element of toxicity on social media I hadn't realized before. Online, you can't tell when someone is silently pleading for mercy, or when they're beaten down. People just assume that everyone can take the same hits they can take because every user looks the same as everyone else.

Reuben

Two chapters in, I'm loving it. It's wild having someone who works in the same field as you be a fantastic writer and describe things you always felt but could never explain. There is something that hasn't aged as well, and that is the notion of high-level programming being less lucrative than writing code closer to the machine. I find the complete opposite is true today. Software engineers have become more product-minded/focused than ever before. The role of "design engineer" or "product engineer" wouldn't exist without this being true. A smaller percentage of people are into this stuff for its engineering/tinkering aspects but rather as a means to accomplish or build something, in comparison to the 90s at least. The industry and market as a whole have also reflected this. In the 90s, hardware and systems engineers printed money at banks and large tech shops. It's a tough job that requires you to be innovative and problem-solving. Most engineers at this level of the stack make considerably less than frontend/full-stack devs nowadays. Sometimes at a difference of hundreds of thousands of dollars. I find machine learning engineers are the poster children for well compensated high-level coding jobs in today's market. I love hardware, embedded systems, and digital logic design almost as much as I love my current role. Still, I would never consider moving because it would mean a significant pay cut, and the career progression is lackluster. Not to mention that there are fewer open roles for it. "If regular people, called "users" can understand the task accomplished by your program, you will be paid less and held in lower esteem." In my opinion, this statement has been untrue since at least 2007 (when Heroku was released, a platform that enabled developers to focus solely on higher-level programming to build products). --- The workplace discussion of forced eugenics reminded me of the Silicon Valley episode of "Optimal tip-to-tip efficiency". TLDW: a bunch of coders mathematically figure out how to sexually gratify every conference attendee in the shortest amount of time in order to win a competition (since their actual product has no chance of winning) side-note: some madlad actually made a paper based on this episode and came up with the actual mathematical model (https://ia600308.us.archive.org/32/items/pdfy-tG1MuMpwvrML6QD0/228831637-Optimal-Tip-to-Tip-Efficiency.pdf)

benedict.m

I wanna talk about the phrase "closer to the machine" because it's been burrowing deeper and deeper into my brain since I first read chapter 1 and I think we as a group need to talk about what it means. when I first read it made me feel this powerful mix of attraction and dread: "the machine" as this primordial mechanism, the embodiment of all that is human-made but beyond us in some way; "closer" as in "deeper," as in "intertwined." it put a bit of the fear of God in me. I started thinking about how our culture been dragged "closer to the machine," in that the internet has woven itself into our fucking souls. how this book represents us (the KTI book club) moving closer to the "machine" of our current technological era that we've been exploring for a while. BUT that's just how the phrase makes me feel. when Ullman uses it, she's not talking about a specific machine. she's not talking about how much a person uses technology. she's comparing the sanitized, idiot-proof world of technology (far from the machine) to the experience of working with the raw material of computing: ones and zeroes, hardware and base programing (close to the machine). in this context, it's very clear that while we are interfacing with far more physical machines than anyone the mid-late 1990s, we are very, very far from "the machine." as @Reuben illuminated, the world of coding has moved away from fundamental, ground-level programming and toward high-level, user-friendly products. our phones emphasize clean, self-contained apps, a lot of people hardly even access the internet through a browser on a computer anymore. Lanier was getting at a similar idea with the contrast between web 1.0 and web 2.0: individual expression and creativity online are increasingly replaced with pre-packaged structures and platforms; no need to build a personal website from scratch, just choose a template you like from squarespace! this is why I finally went to neocities and started learning how to use HTML. it's why I've started buying disposable film cameras and may get a non-disposable one. I don't want to get to a point in our culture where there's no one left alive who actually understands and can work with these machines at the basest level. if we're gonna be this intertwined with machines, we need to be genuinely close to them. ok maybe this was not super necessary, I just wanted to try and clarify what we're meaning when we use this sexy phrase carry on

Maggie K

Late post sorry- book had to get shipped. As someone whose spent most of their life within computer science spaces, Life in Code is very resonant for me. In the techie passage on page 9/10 where she calls out the fact her colleagues were simply describing eugenics and Nazi ideology, the line “It’s the look boys give a girl who’s just interrupted a burping contest” was extremely relatable. I have felt that on such a deep level, sitting in classes, listening to the men around me discuss misogynistic or yes, eugenicist ideas, with seemingly complete ignorance about the implications of their words. And then, if one points the issues out, as Ullman did, you’re made to feel like an outsider- that you just don’t get it. You’re not a real techie. Outside of Time “Here are the reasons Frank wanted to be closer to the machine: The machine means midnight dinners of diet coke. It means unwashed clothes and bare feet on the desk.” (7) “To join this project, he left his wife and kids back east. He obviously views the absence of his family as some kind of license: he has stopped shaving and (one can’t help noticing) has stopped washing on a regular basis.”(11) In these lines in particular I feel Ullman is commenting on a wider culture that exists in tech development spaces- this seeming romanticization of overworking, pushing your human bodily limits as an act of sacrifice for your code, almost the tortured artist of Silicon Valley. I remember listening to speeches by Elizabeth Holmes, given while she was attempting to give her fraudulent company Theranos legitimacy, and one of the ways she did so was by describing how she’d sleep on the floor of her office, drinking only green smoothies. There’s something interesting there about success as an excuse for self destructive behavior. Come in CQ I loved this chapter, as I feel like it perfectly demonstrates the power and ironies of digital connection. On the one hand, Ullman most likely would not have formed a close relationship with Karl in this manner if they did not correspond digitally. So in that way the technology is functioning exactly as it should, as a tool of facilitating human connection. However, once they meet in person the resonance of their digital communications is gone. The way in which they had gotten to know one another means that there is a gap in their experience. The physicality of sitting next to someone as they tell you about their favorite novel, or as you share your writing with them, creates a foundation for a relationship that is extremely difficult to build otherwise/via digital communication. If this chapter was especially interesting for anyone else I highly recommend The Idiot by Elif Bautman- the first part especially.

Ricardo Aguilera

I really love the way she writes and find a lot of this relatable even in contemporary tech. Resonating also with a lot of the autistic traits she describes in the industry — I appreciate that tech (still) can be quite tolerant of our "quirks", despite. Deep deep toxic faults in other bits. I like to think I'm a pretty gregarious guy. But there is a sizeable part of me that wants to fuck off into a dark cave for years to Work On Things. And there is some current in me that's tempted to romanticize very direct, marketplace-of-ideas technical bloodbaths. Don't get me wrong — a lot of old hacker culture seems to be cringe culture, and I find cringe culture to be a poison to learning and general happiness. But there's something appealing and dirtbag about people being very blunt about each other's technical ideas, in a restricted domain. There's a documentary about Kings of Convenience (a very good folk band) and one thing that stands out it how direct they are to each other ("this track sounds like shit") with The Art as the top priority they're serving. It's also true that I way wish I was working on sort of "lower level" stuff. Timelines are nicer and there's also a nice sense of *breadth* of impact. You may not be making something thousands of people use directly, but you're likely making something that is *itself* used to make things thousands of people use. Or you're making something that thousands use without realizing they use it. _And_ you get usually less stringent deadlines? sign me up. throw me in the cave babeyy I feel like she really earned a lot of trust in these two chapters. I was a bit worried about how she'd handle Eugene — didn't like how she noted his weight, and it felt like she was disparaging traits that I felt were harmless and endearing and that I resonated with — but the way she puts herself in the same boat later reassures me somewhat. I love all the wacky vignettes and the reflections. It doesn't have very positive things to say about the industry at the time, but it still feels overall compassionate and curious.

annie liz

oh book club how I’ve missed you I haven’t been on top of threads recently but I want to get back to it because sharing words with you all is important to me and I love it I don’t have much to say yet about these first two chapters other than they sucker punched me right in the kidneys, but if I have no analysis worth sharing, I'll at least contribute a mini story about it I’ve been dancing a lot recently; KTi veterans might remember when I promised you all in a town hall that I’d start social dancing. I followed through! I'm a regular at west coast swing events, to the point that it actually takes up most of my free nights when I want to do something in the evenings now lol. On Mondays this summer, some folks in the community set up speakers down by the docks on the Charles River Esplanade and we dance after sunset. It’s hot and it’s sweaty and the floors are terrible because it’s a literal dock and sometimes there isn’t enough space and it’s without a doubt my favorite part of the week. I’ve been going there early, about an hour before everything starts, to sit on an adjacent dock and read books and write in my little journal about my silly little problems and stare at the sun and the water and the boats and the buildings. Something about holding the physical book and writing on the physical paper and seeing all the physical people walking by with so much rich inner life I’ll never know about makes this weekly ritual very sacred to me. Anyways, I brought Life in Code with me last monday; started it on the train downtown and kept reading once I got to the water. I had a plan to take my cute book selfie by the water outside, but got distracted because Ullman’s writing style just tackled me. I was actually breathless throughout the first chapter, and when I finally looked up I got overwhelmed with love by the families and the couples picnicking and the runners and the cyclists and the children and they were all outside and we were all here and at the same time I was completely taken over by the realization that, across the water, the sunset was blocked by the Google building. I then, naturally, burst into tears. It was the only thought I could have anymore. It was almost too cliche to be real. The sunset is blocked by the Google building. My book selfie is fairly useless because looking at it you can tell I have CLEARLY been crying. It’s one of the funniest pictures I’ve ever taken of myself. I promise I’ll have some more worthwhile contributions down the line. In the meantime, I can’t wait to keep reading with you all

Sammywell

I have to preface all of this by saying that I have nothing against Lanier, but this was such a breath of fresh air compared to the second half of YANAG. I could instantly tell that Ullman has studied English because there is such a strange beauty in every paragraph that I was so surprised to find in a book about technology. The way that she described her coworker’s quirks seemed brutally honest while also avoiding painting them as total “freaks” (putting aside the eugenics vignette). What stood out to me this past week is how she talks about the desire to be “close to the machine”, which takes on a very eerie vision of work. “To work on things used only by machines or other programmers—that’s the key. Programs and machines don’t care how you live. They don’t care when you live. You can stay, come, go, sleep, or not. At the end of the project looms a deadline, the terrible place where you must get off the train. But in between, for years at a stretch, you are free: free from the obligations of time.” Every single detail that Ullman gives about being “close to the machine” is so closely related to finding some sort of god in technology. These programmers wanting to work on programs that only their inner circle can understand seems to reflect something akin to people who only want to talk and write about esoteric ideas. What Ullman is talking about with the machine isn’t any piece of technology, but instead, raw computing material that makes the consumer-focused technology work. As long as you are working to make the limitless possibility of technology work and grow, then you are important enough to escape the mundane reality of working under somebody with more control. As somebody who is in English/literature academic spaces, this part of the chapter had me thinking about how most fields of study and work can and will cause people to desire a higher ideal that makes them feel like they have transcended to the peak of understanding of their respective area of dedication. For people like Frank, being in sales is the same as being dead. For me, the death that I fear is only amounting to being a copywriter for a company that doesn’t allow me to create art that I have control over. I need “the machine” to feel complete, which is utterly terrifying when that could mean caring about the opinions of people on Twitter about my YouTube videos instead of caring about a tangible community around me. I think that I will keep ruminating on this chapter until the very end of the book. We are oriented by love! We need connections and it is so very tragic at the end of the day. I really wasn’t expecting the intro to this chapter to transition so perfectly into the story about Karl, but Ullman just knows how to connect vignettes so nicely. There were so many sentences that stood out to me, but very few made me nauseous like this one: “But it was as if his face were not there at all, so little effect did it have on the flow of ‘talk.’ I looked at our hands lying near each other’s on the table: they might as well have been typing.” I don’t know how it is possible, but I feel like Ullman described everything wrong with my situationships in 2024 back in an era that I wasn’t even alive for. The way that she describes the disconnect that she felt meeting with Karl face-to-face reflects a horror that I feel on a day-to-day basis when it comes to talking to people online vs offline. Though it is a fear that conversational chemistry won’t translate to real-life interactions, there is an even stronger sense of dread that I get when I realize that there is no hidden part of somebody that I was missing over text. Everything that I thought was hiding under the surface is either not there or is not ever going to be visible. “Karl was who he was, a man who came alive through words on a screen. There was no use expecting more of him.” I will never be able to determine if the short-term connections that I make over text will truly be beneficial to my well-being, but for the most part I think that those relationships were meant to fade like Ullman and Karl’s did. Once the circumstances of the meeting are gone, there really isn’t much left except the words that person was represented by. It is beautiful and tragic, but way better than falling in love with an AI chatbot.

Rhubarb Country

Finished Come In CQ against a background of cicadas and crickets and AC. It broke me and healed me all at once

phil e the theyby

Ok I finally got this book and am home and able to read it! Time to speedrun book club posts. I came away feeling this whole thing feels dystopian as fuck, particularly the environment described in Outside of Time. And I’m super conflicted about it because like…people can live their lives how they want to. But I simply believe that it’s possible to be a software engineer and a whole human being (though maybe not with how the industry is structured at the time this was written and maybe also now? Curious about changes over time as I go through the chapters), and that it is worse for your soul to NOT be a whole human being. A lot of us have those drives of retreating into something, and I don’t think that should be pathologized. But do we as a society not know how to foster those parts of people while also encouraging the parts of them that want to like, be a body in the world with other humans? Or do we just incentivize being a software engineer TOO well, where people feel like money, status, and being in a super insular subculture is a real substitute for the need for genuine human connection? Or am I overestimating other people’s need for genuine human connection? Anyway, this is beautifully written, and I’m thrilled to dive in. But god, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kill the internet more than after reading these two chapters (I know, the irony of posting that here on Patreon). Gonna read up to the current section and then catch up on other people’s posts later, but I’m excited from the little bit I’ve seen of what others have shared so far ❤️

AidanWithoutTheE

In this essay about procrastination I will... Just getting around to starting so I figured I would put some of my thoughts down "Soon we may all be living the programming life: alone, floating in mind-time, disdainful of anyone far from the machine." Outside of Time Pg 17 "It reassured the boys in the basement: All that hardware has a purpose , it said. It can indeed bring you company." Come In, CQ Pg20 This feels ever relevant with social internet spaces (Discord, Twitch etc.) having become many people's only sources of social interaction throughout the day and if not their only source, then the only source, in which they put concentrated effort, into deepening those relationships or even contributing to the conversation. We as a society have become creatures of comfort and the problem that comes along with that is, humans can lose a sense of consideration because we become TOO comfortable. We then let every thought out without thinking of how it may be perceived or how it will affect those around them. "Each of us had to create a particular electronic persona, and that creation had to be flexible. We had to tune it depending upon the people on the other side of the email conversation." Come In, CQ Pg 24 "The others had learned to exert technical influence by ferociously attacking your work while vehemently defending their own." Come In, CQ Pg 25 "Your whole way of thinking is a tautology. Or else you are stupid. ...But under no circumstance may you ask for compassion." Come In, CQ Pg 26 This part in particular struck a cord. I personally have had a few online friends who, as I got to know them better, I didn't necessarily like being around the people they turned out to be. It's a very slippery slope especially with any sort of discourse online. People can be perfectly kind one moment but if you make a "mistake" they jump all over it because of the unflawed and infallible personas that they try to portray and it gets SO much worse for anyone who can't just, as Ullman states "tough it out" because that is preyed upon. It is so scary to me, as someone who grew up mostly with the internet, that Ullman was observing this kind of behavior so early in the Internet's life cycle and to see how it really has not changed all that much. I think that the best relationships that I have forged in online spaces have, either didn't have or dropped immediately, the online personas or learned "decorum" that discourage compassion which can be difficult online, but it IS possible, like when Karl highlighted his own flaws and mistakes to the group. Regardless of Karl's intentions behind it, it allowed Ullman and Karl to connect. I came away from these chapters feeling very introspective of my own relationship with technology and how society is enthralled with it, which is honestly a testament to Ullman's writing! I am excited to read more!

Julie

Very late to the party but wanted to leave behind a small note of appreciation for this space. I got the book in time but am only getting around to reading it now as it ties into a project I'm doing with some people with the end goal of a walk around our city, relating different places to processes of digitalisation and starting off our intro with kind of a history of the internet and the feelings (of hope/despair especially) attached to it. So after just reading the first two chapters I'm returning here, taking inspiration from everyone's thoughts on Ullman's work. I can only agree with the widespread love for the prose in her writing, the physicality contained in it and the prescience of the things she talks about. I am left with the lingering smell of the ocean on a cloudy night and memories of my own connections forged digitally and the complicated ways in which we tried to merge these with our offline, flesh identities.