by Cody Kitaura
This was supposed to be the time when I avoided the booze. This time was supposed to be different. Yet there I was, struggling to explain to the slurred voice on the phone that I would catch up with them a little later.
Why aren't you here yet?
We're waiting for you.
We already passed that exhibit; why are you still there?
Where are you?
We've been waiting forever.
It was no use. I sighed as I hung up my phone and headed reluctantly toward a group of friends likely intent once again on skipping over the art of Sacramento's Second Saturday Art Walk and heading straight for the booze.
This is how it ends up almost every time: A group of friends fall in line with the crowds filing through a few art galleries, then hurry to the real destination: liquor.
This week was supposed to be different. I had come alone and wandered Midtown with a video camera, hoping to capture a sampling of some of the bands and art the gathering had to offer. But the texts and phone calls were relentless, and I have a hard time making up excuses.
As I approached the group, a friend jumped at me with familiar enthusiasm. I feigned a smile and exchanged hellos with everyone.
It's not that I don't like these people – they're great friends. It's just that their agenda during the Second Saturday Art Walk usually has very little to do with art – with the exception of the art of finding a seat at some of the more popular bars in Midtown.
Once a month, Midtown Sacramento blooms with culture. Bands playing bizarre, home-made instruments fill the air with song. Artists lean canvases against trees and empty can after can of spray paint into part of a dark, twisted scene.
And yet, the most important topic of our conversation was whose apartment would hold the alcohol-laden afterparty.
At least we had seen one gallery together. I suppose the artist (a friend of ours) inviting us to drink at his apartment afterward was his way of repaying us for wandering through his gallery, glancing briefly at his photographs, and then gabbing with him about work and life after college.
I wondered how another group of friends, who are usually much more focused on finding good art than good beer, were making out. I stole away to find out. Turns out their night had been pretty similar so far.
As I scanned a crowded street full of galleries and music, a familiar face emerged from the crowd, wide-eyed and moving in slow, exaggerated movements.
His girlfriend had left in a huff after a trip back to their house to retrieve a wallet had taken a sour turn: He had downed a shot or two and smoked some marijuana. Now he was trying to think of a way to keep her from discovering he had forgotten his wallet for the second time.
As a relatively new resident of Sacramento, the art walks are still foreign and new to me. Perhaps that's why I seem to be the only one interested in the actual art. In fact, it always seems easier to walk through the galleries on 20th Street than Streets of London or the Golden Bear Pub. But aren't these places always open? Why does everyone seem to enjoy the alcohol more than the art?
The owners of the bars in Midtown probably aren't complaining, but perhaps the people who pack in once a month should think about the real reason they're roaming the streets of Sacramento. If they aren't out to truly appreciate the art, they shouldn't try to drag along people who are.
In it for the lulz: The only way to stop trolls
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Labels:
tech columns
by Cody Kitaura
On Friday, a somber Oprah Winfrey addressed her audience. “Let me read you something that was posted on our message boards from someone who claims to be a member of a known pedophile network,” she said with a careful, measured pace.
“It doesn't forgive. It does not forget. This group has over 9,000 penises, and they're all raping children.” She paused, took a breath, and continued with her warning.
She had taken the bait. She had seen a sarcastic troll's post on her forum and thought it was legitimate. The video shot to the top of Digg.com as the Internet rejoiced.
These users, who exploit others just for laughs, are called trolls. They cruise the Internet, dragging their bait like troublemaking fishermen waiting for the naïve to bite. When someone does, the trolls will exploit them as much as possible, hoping to earn some lulz – laughs at someone else's expense, no matter how cruel.
Publicity like a successful troll of Winfrey only encourages more troublemaking trolls, like the hacker who last week gained access to GOP Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin's personal e-mail account with only the help of Google and a few minutes of research.
There's only one true way to stop trolls – ignore them. Trolls often unleash relentless harassment and death threats upon victims, but it's all empty talk in hopes of earning a sensationalist response – like the Fox affiliate report calling them “hackers on steroids.”
The person who cleverly gained access to Palin's e-mail wasn't an expert hacker trying to exploit her family or steal anyone's identity. He claims he was looking for any evidence that she had been inappropriately using her personal Yahoo! e-mail account for government business, and when nothing was to be found, he decided to hand out the password and let some Internet hooligans have some fun with it.
The trolls rejoiced. Photos of Palin's family were posted, and prank calls were made to 17-year-old Bristol Palin's cell phone.
Trolls don't target public figures exclusively. When seventh-grader Mitchell Henderson committed suicide in 2006, trolls joked that it was because he lost his iPod, a fact he had noted on his MySpace page. When friends remembering Henderson called him “an hero,” the trolls set to work creating mountains of mocking animations, videos and pictures; they also prank-called Henderson's parents for a year and a half, claiming to be his ghost.
“They’d say, ‘Hi, this is Mitchell, I’m at the cemetery.’ ‘Hi, I’ve got Mitchell’s iPod.’ ‘Hi, I’m Mitchell’s ghost, the front door is locked. Can you come down and let me in?’ ” Mitchell’s father, Mark Henderson, told the New York Times.
Trolls congregate in various online forums, such as a notorious section of 4Chan.org called /b/. Posts are littered with racial slurs, nude photos and occasional child pornography. Almost all posts on the board are signed “Anonymous.”
Many trolls, including the Palin “hacker,” claim an allegiance to a group called Anonymous. The group claims many of its exploits are for a noble purpose – with a no-nonsense, anarchist-style approach. The flashing images Anonymous members posted on an epilepsy forum, causing seizures? A lesson in taking web-surfing precautions (and also an attack that divided trolls, some saying it went too far). The rampant racial slurs? A lesson in “sticks and stones.” A commenter on Wired.com explained “through satirizing these terms they lose their power.”
The solution to trolls is similar: ignore them and they lose their power. If we learn to be more wary of what we read online, and if we let the trolls' teases and empty threats roll off our backs, they'll run out of options.
The reality is that it's unrealistic to expect our society to readily brush off blatantly insensitive attacks and words that have hurt so many for so long. But it's also reality that it's unrealistic to try to stop trolls like the members of Anonymous. The more publicity the group gets, the more juvenile its attacks will become, and the more its numbers will swell. The publicity from some of its exploits is already causing growing pains within the ranks of the trolls. Veteran posters in /b/ and other forums bemoan the “newfags” – Anonymous' bandwagoners and rookies that have flooded the boards, wanting in on the fun.
Sure, there are dangerous hackers on the Internet – but the majority of trolls are just in it for the juvenile troublemaking, just like the bullies who teased the skinny kid in grade school. The solution to trolls is the same as the solution to the bullies – ignore them and eventually they'll get bored and play another game.
On Friday, a somber Oprah Winfrey addressed her audience. “Let me read you something that was posted on our message boards from someone who claims to be a member of a known pedophile network,” she said with a careful, measured pace.
“It doesn't forgive. It does not forget. This group has over 9,000 penises, and they're all raping children.” She paused, took a breath, and continued with her warning.
She had taken the bait. She had seen a sarcastic troll's post on her forum and thought it was legitimate. The video shot to the top of Digg.com as the Internet rejoiced.
These users, who exploit others just for laughs, are called trolls. They cruise the Internet, dragging their bait like troublemaking fishermen waiting for the naïve to bite. When someone does, the trolls will exploit them as much as possible, hoping to earn some lulz – laughs at someone else's expense, no matter how cruel.
Publicity like a successful troll of Winfrey only encourages more troublemaking trolls, like the hacker who last week gained access to GOP Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin's personal e-mail account with only the help of Google and a few minutes of research.
There's only one true way to stop trolls – ignore them. Trolls often unleash relentless harassment and death threats upon victims, but it's all empty talk in hopes of earning a sensationalist response – like the Fox affiliate report calling them “hackers on steroids.”
The person who cleverly gained access to Palin's e-mail wasn't an expert hacker trying to exploit her family or steal anyone's identity. He claims he was looking for any evidence that she had been inappropriately using her personal Yahoo! e-mail account for government business, and when nothing was to be found, he decided to hand out the password and let some Internet hooligans have some fun with it.
The trolls rejoiced. Photos of Palin's family were posted, and prank calls were made to 17-year-old Bristol Palin's cell phone.
Trolls don't target public figures exclusively. When seventh-grader Mitchell Henderson committed suicide in 2006, trolls joked that it was because he lost his iPod, a fact he had noted on his MySpace page. When friends remembering Henderson called him “an hero,” the trolls set to work creating mountains of mocking animations, videos and pictures; they also prank-called Henderson's parents for a year and a half, claiming to be his ghost.
“They’d say, ‘Hi, this is Mitchell, I’m at the cemetery.’ ‘Hi, I’ve got Mitchell’s iPod.’ ‘Hi, I’m Mitchell’s ghost, the front door is locked. Can you come down and let me in?’ ” Mitchell’s father, Mark Henderson, told the New York Times.
Trolls congregate in various online forums, such as a notorious section of 4Chan.org called /b/. Posts are littered with racial slurs, nude photos and occasional child pornography. Almost all posts on the board are signed “Anonymous.”
Many trolls, including the Palin “hacker,” claim an allegiance to a group called Anonymous. The group claims many of its exploits are for a noble purpose – with a no-nonsense, anarchist-style approach. The flashing images Anonymous members posted on an epilepsy forum, causing seizures? A lesson in taking web-surfing precautions (and also an attack that divided trolls, some saying it went too far). The rampant racial slurs? A lesson in “sticks and stones.” A commenter on Wired.com explained “through satirizing these terms they lose their power.”
The solution to trolls is similar: ignore them and they lose their power. If we learn to be more wary of what we read online, and if we let the trolls' teases and empty threats roll off our backs, they'll run out of options.
The reality is that it's unrealistic to expect our society to readily brush off blatantly insensitive attacks and words that have hurt so many for so long. But it's also reality that it's unrealistic to try to stop trolls like the members of Anonymous. The more publicity the group gets, the more juvenile its attacks will become, and the more its numbers will swell. The publicity from some of its exploits is already causing growing pains within the ranks of the trolls. Veteran posters in /b/ and other forums bemoan the “newfags” – Anonymous' bandwagoners and rookies that have flooded the boards, wanting in on the fun.
Sure, there are dangerous hackers on the Internet – but the majority of trolls are just in it for the juvenile troublemaking, just like the bullies who teased the skinny kid in grade school. The solution to trolls is the same as the solution to the bullies – ignore them and eventually they'll get bored and play another game.
Let's embrace the technosexuals
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Labels:
tech columns
by Cody Kitaura
The Japanese have a 4-foot-3-inch robot who can conduct an orchestra, and we have a lawn mower.
They have silicone-skinned “Actroids,” life-like robots whose chests rise and fall as if they were breathing, and who can hold a conversation with a human. And we have a hockey-puck-shaped vacuum cleaner.
They have an agile robot who can play the violin, and we … well, you get the idea.
The Japanese, the world's leaders in robots (more than half of the robots in the world reside in the island nation), have a much different role in mind for their mechanical creations. They want them to provide care and companionship for the nation's rapidly aging population, while here in the United States we want robots to clean our houses and check our sewer pipes for leaks.
In the technology-embracing East, robots conjure up warm memories of animated heroes and friendly companions. Here, they remind us of Hollywood's visions of once-loyal servants on a rampage and time-traveling killing machines.
So we tend to shy away from anything besides utilitarian hunks of metal and plastic – it's not that the United States couldn't make a violin-playing, conversation-holding robot – it's that we're afraid to.
“Deep in its heart, America finds the idea of technology with personalities to be ... spooky,” Asian culture columnist Jeff Yang wrote in the San Francisco Chronicle in 2005. “After all, the notion of objects with minds of their own runs counter to deeply ingrained Judeo-Christian values – creating devices that can move and think without human intervention veers a little too close to playing God.”
There is, however, a movement that feels otherwise.
All across the Internet, there are groups of people who dream about the perfect sexual encounter with a robot. Some fantasize about being transformed into cyborgs, some digitally manipulate images of celebrities to add in exposed circuitry and wiring, and some hunt carefully for robotic references and appearances in movies and television.
These “technosexuals” – members of the robot fetish community – first began to gather online in the newsgroup alt.sex.fetish.robots. The community later became known as ASFR in homage to the original group. They congregate online to share stories and finds, and to discuss preferences.
Here in the land of political correctness, we're taught not to have knee-jerk reactions to people who might be a little different. But it's likely that most technosexual conversation wouldn't exactly fit in around the water cooler; the robot fetish is still relatively unknown, and most fetishes are laughed off or ridiculed – in public, at least. So technosexuals keep to themselves.
“The common joke among Technos is that each and every last one of them at one point thought they were the ‘only one,’ ” technosexual expert Edward Gore writes.
But if we want true American robots to compete with the incredible innovations from the Land of the Rising Sun, we will have to embrace our country's most powerful technology incubator: the sex industry. By embracing and not shunning technosexuals, sex can do for robotics what it did for home video, streaming online video and pay-per-view TV: drive innovation.
Author and artificial intelligence expert David Levy agrees.
“When we create robots that are specifically invented with sexuality in mind, the level of interest and the desire to use them will, I believe, be beyond the wildest dreams of product designers and manufacturers,” he told About.com in 2007.
“I think that sexuality will be far more than an early testing ground for robots,” he said. “It will not only be the most popular use of robots amongst adults, it will also create huge social change.”
The demand is already there. Sex doll manufacturer Matt McMullen is experimenting with adding motorized, thrusting hips to his high-end RealDolls, which retail at prices starting at $6,500 and feature realistic looks and silicone skin.
There's no telling what innovations could come out of openly embracing technosexuals and allowing robot fetishes to go mainstream. More capable, smarter and more realistic robots could not only find uses in the bedroom, but in security, companionship, healthcare and other places Hollywood (or Japan) hasn't even imagined yet.
So let's embrace the technosexuals. I need a robot to write columns for me, and it's not going to invent itself.
The Japanese have a 4-foot-3-inch robot who can conduct an orchestra, and we have a lawn mower.
They have silicone-skinned “Actroids,” life-like robots whose chests rise and fall as if they were breathing, and who can hold a conversation with a human. And we have a hockey-puck-shaped vacuum cleaner.
They have an agile robot who can play the violin, and we … well, you get the idea.
The Japanese, the world's leaders in robots (more than half of the robots in the world reside in the island nation), have a much different role in mind for their mechanical creations. They want them to provide care and companionship for the nation's rapidly aging population, while here in the United States we want robots to clean our houses and check our sewer pipes for leaks.
In the technology-embracing East, robots conjure up warm memories of animated heroes and friendly companions. Here, they remind us of Hollywood's visions of once-loyal servants on a rampage and time-traveling killing machines.
So we tend to shy away from anything besides utilitarian hunks of metal and plastic – it's not that the United States couldn't make a violin-playing, conversation-holding robot – it's that we're afraid to.
“Deep in its heart, America finds the idea of technology with personalities to be ... spooky,” Asian culture columnist Jeff Yang wrote in the San Francisco Chronicle in 2005. “After all, the notion of objects with minds of their own runs counter to deeply ingrained Judeo-Christian values – creating devices that can move and think without human intervention veers a little too close to playing God.”
There is, however, a movement that feels otherwise.
All across the Internet, there are groups of people who dream about the perfect sexual encounter with a robot. Some fantasize about being transformed into cyborgs, some digitally manipulate images of celebrities to add in exposed circuitry and wiring, and some hunt carefully for robotic references and appearances in movies and television.
These “technosexuals” – members of the robot fetish community – first began to gather online in the newsgroup alt.sex.fetish.robots. The community later became known as ASFR in homage to the original group. They congregate online to share stories and finds, and to discuss preferences.
Here in the land of political correctness, we're taught not to have knee-jerk reactions to people who might be a little different. But it's likely that most technosexual conversation wouldn't exactly fit in around the water cooler; the robot fetish is still relatively unknown, and most fetishes are laughed off or ridiculed – in public, at least. So technosexuals keep to themselves.
“The common joke among Technos is that each and every last one of them at one point thought they were the ‘only one,’ ” technosexual expert Edward Gore writes.
But if we want true American robots to compete with the incredible innovations from the Land of the Rising Sun, we will have to embrace our country's most powerful technology incubator: the sex industry. By embracing and not shunning technosexuals, sex can do for robotics what it did for home video, streaming online video and pay-per-view TV: drive innovation.
Author and artificial intelligence expert David Levy agrees.
“When we create robots that are specifically invented with sexuality in mind, the level of interest and the desire to use them will, I believe, be beyond the wildest dreams of product designers and manufacturers,” he told About.com in 2007.
“I think that sexuality will be far more than an early testing ground for robots,” he said. “It will not only be the most popular use of robots amongst adults, it will also create huge social change.”
The demand is already there. Sex doll manufacturer Matt McMullen is experimenting with adding motorized, thrusting hips to his high-end RealDolls, which retail at prices starting at $6,500 and feature realistic looks and silicone skin.
There's no telling what innovations could come out of openly embracing technosexuals and allowing robot fetishes to go mainstream. More capable, smarter and more realistic robots could not only find uses in the bedroom, but in security, companionship, healthcare and other places Hollywood (or Japan) hasn't even imagined yet.
So let's embrace the technosexuals. I need a robot to write columns for me, and it's not going to invent itself.
Dangerous taillight offenders on the loose!
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Labels:
assigned columns
by Cody Kitaura
It is a warm Sunday morning in Midtown, Sacramento. An Acura points its primer-covered nose down the wrong street and ends up behind a Sacramento Police Department cruiser. The cruiser takes notice and slows, maneuvering until it's directly behind the multi-colored Acura. It follows closely for a few moments, then sets its sirens ablaze and stops the car.
What follows is always the same.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?”
Because you already solved all the real crimes? Because all the criminals are busy going to church today?
“Why don't you have a front license plate on your car?”
Because its only purpose is to help your traffic cameras catch a clearer glimpse?
The truth was that it's a little hard to paint a bumper with the license plate attached, but the fix-it ticket the officer handed over said he obviously wasn't a paint-and-bodywork kind of guy.
But before those formalities are taken care of, the officer always shoots a sideways glance down the sandpaper-scarred side of the car and asks incredulously: “Whose car is this?”
No matter what the minor infraction Johnny Law cites as a reason to stop drivers, there's almost always something else. It seems hard to picture Sacramento Police Chief Rick Braziel tossing and turning in his sleep, having nightmares about cars roaming the streets without front license plates. There's always something else.
For an example, try to see what happens when you turn down a side street to “avoid” a DUI checkpoint (even if that side street happens to be the actual route to your house). A patrol car will break off from the group and glue itself to your bumper until the officer finds a tiny reason to pull you over. The line of questioning that will follow will, of course, have very little to do with that license-plate light that happens to be burned out, and will focus heavily on anything you've happened to had to drink that night.
Sure, it's important for cars to have properly functioning marker lights, working headlights and visible license plates – but is enforcing these tiny formalities really the best way to spend our tax dollars? When grade-school children say with a glimmer in their eyes that they want to become a police officer someday, is it because they have a burning desire to hand out slaps on the wrist for extinguished taillights?
It seems cliché to say that cops surely must have something better to do, and according to the Sacramento Bee, they have been busy. Violent crime in Sacramento dropped 7 percent in 2007, the department told the paper, but one can't help but wonder what the city would look like if law enforcement tackled legitimate crime with the same vigor it seems to use to latch onto virtual non-offenses like front license plates and taillights.
The real test may be yet to come, as the Sacramento Police Department faces a $16 million budget cut this year to make up for the $58 million shortage in the city's budget. The Sacramento Bee reports that the department is experimenting with officers riding two-per-car and may cut the amount of available overtime hours for officers, which could slash the paychecks of some by 10 to 40 percent.
It's possible these cuts could lead to fewer officers on the street, and while it might seem that no good could come from less police enforcement, perhaps these cuts will be the jolt our police force needs to realign its priorities in the right direction: real crime.
It is a warm Sunday morning in Midtown, Sacramento. An Acura points its primer-covered nose down the wrong street and ends up behind a Sacramento Police Department cruiser. The cruiser takes notice and slows, maneuvering until it's directly behind the multi-colored Acura. It follows closely for a few moments, then sets its sirens ablaze and stops the car.
What follows is always the same.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?”
Because you already solved all the real crimes? Because all the criminals are busy going to church today?
“Why don't you have a front license plate on your car?”
Because its only purpose is to help your traffic cameras catch a clearer glimpse?
The truth was that it's a little hard to paint a bumper with the license plate attached, but the fix-it ticket the officer handed over said he obviously wasn't a paint-and-bodywork kind of guy.
But before those formalities are taken care of, the officer always shoots a sideways glance down the sandpaper-scarred side of the car and asks incredulously: “Whose car is this?”
No matter what the minor infraction Johnny Law cites as a reason to stop drivers, there's almost always something else. It seems hard to picture Sacramento Police Chief Rick Braziel tossing and turning in his sleep, having nightmares about cars roaming the streets without front license plates. There's always something else.
For an example, try to see what happens when you turn down a side street to “avoid” a DUI checkpoint (even if that side street happens to be the actual route to your house). A patrol car will break off from the group and glue itself to your bumper until the officer finds a tiny reason to pull you over. The line of questioning that will follow will, of course, have very little to do with that license-plate light that happens to be burned out, and will focus heavily on anything you've happened to had to drink that night.
Sure, it's important for cars to have properly functioning marker lights, working headlights and visible license plates – but is enforcing these tiny formalities really the best way to spend our tax dollars? When grade-school children say with a glimmer in their eyes that they want to become a police officer someday, is it because they have a burning desire to hand out slaps on the wrist for extinguished taillights?
It seems cliché to say that cops surely must have something better to do, and according to the Sacramento Bee, they have been busy. Violent crime in Sacramento dropped 7 percent in 2007, the department told the paper, but one can't help but wonder what the city would look like if law enforcement tackled legitimate crime with the same vigor it seems to use to latch onto virtual non-offenses like front license plates and taillights.
The real test may be yet to come, as the Sacramento Police Department faces a $16 million budget cut this year to make up for the $58 million shortage in the city's budget. The Sacramento Bee reports that the department is experimenting with officers riding two-per-car and may cut the amount of available overtime hours for officers, which could slash the paychecks of some by 10 to 40 percent.
It's possible these cuts could lead to fewer officers on the street, and while it might seem that no good could come from less police enforcement, perhaps these cuts will be the jolt our police force needs to realign its priorities in the right direction: real crime.
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