NeuroLitCrit

As part of our seemingly ongoing (though erratic) series of posts with “neuro” in the title, here’s The Guardian on a new bridge discipline between the arts and the sciences: neuro lit crit.

Later this year a group of 12 students in New England will be given a series of specially designed texts to read. Then they will be loaded into a hospital MRI machine and their brains scanned to map their neurological responses.

The scans produced will measure blood flow to the firing synapses of their brain cells, allowing a united team of scientists and literature professors to study how and why human beings respond to complex fiction such as the works of Marcel Proust, Henry James or Virginia Woolf.

What, no sf titles? Surely – if you’re going to engage in such an inherently postmodern activity as neuro lit crit in the first place – you might as well go fully meta, and examine the brain activity of people reading fiction that discusses the science of brain activity…

And here’s another researcher, co-opting literary criticism in the name of advancing that insidious atheistic baby-eating Communo-Darwinist agenda I keep hearing so much about:

Vermeule is examining the role of evolution in fiction: some call it “Darwinian literary studies”. It looks at how human genetics and evolutionary theory shape and influence literature, or at how literature itself may be an expression of evolution. For instance, the fact that much of human fiction is about the search for a suitable mate should suggest that evolutionary forces are at play. Others agree that fiction can be seen as promoting social cohesion or even giving lessons in sexual selection. “It is hard to interpret fiction without an evolutionary view,” said Professor Jonathan Gottschall at Washington and Jefferson College, Pennsylvania.

Hah! That won’t get you far with The Greatest Story Ever Told, “Professor”! If we evolved from dinosaurs, why aren’t there any dinosaurs in the Bible, eh? Tell me that.

Ahem.

Much as with the afore-mentioned neurocinematics, I’m sure someone will hit on the idea of using neuro lit crit for tailoring books that produce the right sort of brain spikes, and prompt a race to the bottom in literary value that will make the pulp magazine explosion look like a damp squib*. I guess our last best hope is that the profit margins will be too small to make it worthwhile… while I’ve complained a few times about wanting a little more science in my fiction, this isn’t what I meant at all. 😉

[ * – Note for the inevitable handful easily-riled genre traditionalists, who will doubtless head straight for the comments box anyway: this sentence is to be read with heavy irony, as is the rest of the post. ]

Form, functionality and tradition: why aren’t lightbulbs flat?

The snap answer is “because no one ever made a flat lightbulb“, but Wired UK now puts the lie to that one: someone displayed a flat lightbulb concept at a design show back in 2008, apparently, though it seems never to have made it to production.

The second (and more considered) answer would probably be “because when they were first being made, limited technology for glass manufacture meant that globular capsules were easier and cheaper to produce, and by the time the technology had improved the shape of a lightbulb was an established given that no one thought to alter“. (I’m not certain about the limitations of early manufacture, but it’s a self-educated guess; anyone who can enlighten me further?)

The paranoid answer might be “their frangibility appeals to the sort of corporate mindset that came up with the concept of planned obsolescence” – in other words, lightbulb makers make lightbulbs that are easy to break because they can then sell more lightbulbs. Pretty sure there’s a logical flaw in there somewhere, though…

But anyway, this tangential waffling is the result of that lightbulb story making me wonder how many other household objects are the shape they are, just because they’ve always been made that way. And from there, it’s a short step to thinking similar thoughts about intellectual and cultural institutions, political theories and so forth…

… yeah, so I’m having one of those Fridays where my mind wanders a lot. Lucky you, eh? 🙂

Crop circles

Nasca-influenced crop circleBoingBoing is currently playing host to one Jaques Vallee as guestblogger, and he’s been riling up the (admittedly easily-riled) BB comment-swarm by talking with some degree of seriousness about crop circles. [image by trodas]

I’ve got a real weak spot for crop circles, because I grew up in a part of the UK countryside where they have always been prevalent, and because as a teenager I was already waist-deep in genre fiction, occultism and conspiracy theory (yeah, I’ve totally seen the fnords, man). Nowadays I consider myself to be a lot more critical and rational than I was back then… albeit tempered with an awareness of how compelling the less-than-rational explanations for odd occurrences can be. In other words, I try not to knee-jerk on weird happenings (though I don’t always succeed – I’m still human, or at least I was last time I looked).

Now, the rational explanation for crop circles is that they’re man-made hoaxes, and indeed, some of them are almost certainly exactly that. But Vallee trots out some items that lend a certain degree of credence to a rather wilder theory… namely that the tin-foil hat brigade are right, and that crop circles are evidence of some sort of energy weapon research:

(1) the phenomenon began with single circles that English and U.S. weather scientists first tried to explain as atmospheric vortices. Soon there were multiple circles in various geometric combinations, and in following years the designs became increasingly complex, leading to the idea that we were witnessing a classic, step-by-step program of technology development–not an atmospheric anomaly but not some sort of paranormal effect either.

(2) Given that SOME of the patterns were obviously man-made hoaxes, it was possible to compare the effect on the plants in genuine versus bogus patterns. Under the microscope the results were clear: if you push a board across a wheat field to flatten it, you will break the stalks between nodes because the nodes are thicker and stronger. But in the unexplained, complex patterns the nodes themselves were exploded, often keeping the fibers intact. Conclusion: something was coupling energy into the plants in the form of heat (as one of the respondents to my first post actually stated). Therefore the idea of a beam weapon is indeed one of the scenarios to consider.

(3) The crop circles are close to ancient megalithic sites, which excites the curiosity of New Age tourists from America, but they are even closer to the most highly classified military electronics labs in Britain. In fact the roads to some of the fields run between two high fences behind which defense companies are doing research, and Army helicopters routinely patrol the area.

Now, I’m not suggesting that the points above make a conclusive and compelling case, but the second item points out that, if the more complex crop circles are hoaxes, then they’re being hoaxed using a method of which we’re not yet aware, and by a group more sophisticated in its thinking and planning than the drunken agriculture students who are traditionally blamed for them.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, really, except to say that as useful a tool as Occam’s Razor may be, it falls down in situations where the evidence is insufficient, inconclusive, or both. And that sometimes finding the simplest answer to a question merely throws up more questions, often not so easily answered.

Or to put it another way: if we assume the complex-patterned crop formations that feature burst nodes in the damaged corn are all hoaxes, who are the hoaxers? What are their methods, their motivations? I’m in no way suggesting that I’m sold on the idea of crop circles being energy weapon research detritus (if that were the case, why would the military researchers have made them consistently larger and more prone to attract public attention as the years have passed?), but once you start looking at the questions arising from the simple rational answer, the simple rational answer stops looking quite so simple and rational.

It’s thought-trains like this that make me miss Mac Tonnies. I have a great admiration for people who actively court the sort of public reaction that Vallee bemoans in his BoingBoing post; even if they’re wrong, I think they’re doing something very important for our culture as a species.

Shine anthology contributors interviewed

The SF Signal gang have turned over the microphone (er, keyboard) to Charles Tan to publish a set of interviews with the authors whose stories appear in the Shine anthology of optimistic science fiction, mentioned here many times previously. Shine features a decent number of Futurismic fiction alumni, and hence regular readers may be interested to see the interviews with Silvia Moreno-Garcia and Jason Stoddard which have already appeared.

I’ll be reviewing Shine here at Futurismic just as soon as my life circumstances have handed me sufficient time to read it and bash out some words in response (things are still a little fraught, in case you were wonderin’). In the meantime, have any of you lot bought a copy of Shine and, if so, what did you think? And if you’re not interested in buying a copy (for any reason other than not having the money spare), why is that?