#TBT: THROWBACK THESIS (“The Digital Campfire: Interactive Horror Storytelling and Web 2.0”)

I don't know, I got bored once.

“Ben Drowned” fan “art.” I got bored once.

Happy March! So things have been picking up in the last few weeks, relatively speaking: I’m a Managing Editor on the Cornell Law Review now, I got a part-time Spring internship offer from a local firm helping represent protesters in the fight to keep petrol storage out of Seneca Lake, and I’m in talks with a Ph.D from the Global Catastrophic Risk Institute to possibly do some research and legal writing on proposed international legal regulations for handling emergent AI in an increasingly internet-dependent world. That, and the snow’s starting to melt around here in Ithaca!

All told, though, that means I’m definitely pretty busy, so I’ll cut to the chase: in the spirit of not having inordinately large update gaps on this purportedly professional portfolio-ish blog anymore–as well as throwing a quick bone to the “on Wednesdays we wear pink”-esque trend that is #ThrowbackThursday–I present to you my thesis paper from my senior year in the University of Washington‘s Honors English program, circa 2013.

Consummate geek that I was/am, while others were analyzing T.S. Eliot or non-heteronormative narratives in Latin American fiction, I wrote about… creepypasta. Well, not just creepypasta–I dove into how the modern internet has allowed the time-honored ritual of collaborative fiction to partner with interactive fiction as well, particularly in the case of the bite-sized “this really happened!” horror stories we all know and love to read in minimal lighting. I explain how The SCP FoundationSlender Man, and “Ben Drowned” each utilize(d) wikis and/or social media in similar but unique ways to present engaging, believable horror stories, then briefly discuss where and why Hollywood has succeeded or failed to capture this magic for “mainstream” appeal with films like Cloverfield and The Devil Inside.

So draw the shades, open a couple more browser windows, microwave a s’more if you want, and follow along as I analyze the thrills and chills of sitting down in front of…

The Digital Campfire
Interactive Horror Storytelling and Web 2.0

[A brief “P.S”: I initially considered shopping this around to relevant academic journals after I wrote it, but the plan got away from me and before I knew it I was writing legal notes instead! Part of me thinks this piece is best at home free on the internet anyway, like its subject matter; I have no idea whether putting it on my dinky WordPress blog puts me out of the running for a print journal picking up a variation on it some day, but at this point I just want to share the work and see what you folks think. With that “time capsule” quality in mind (and like I said, #TBT), I’ve done very minimal editing–mainly just new spaces between sections for clarity and a few egregious typos fixed, including the time I spelled “Doctor Who” as “Dr. Who.” As such, some details will be a tad outdated–most prominently, Marble Hornets finally wrapped up (with a polarizing ending), and I’m psyched for the SCP Foundation movie!]

BACK IN BLACK AND/OR PINK – Valentine’s Up-Date

Happy Valentine’s Day! In my regrettable absence (full disclosure: no real reason, I just got busy and then Christmas Break happened/was pretty great), the rest of 2014 and the start of 2015 came and went without much in the way of remarkable developments–I made it through another semester at Cornell Law School with a modest cumulative 3.4 GPA and am preparing to advance to a higher editor position on the Cornell Law Review, but progress on my novel, “There’s Something Wrong with the Neighbor’s Cat” (link goes to pretty darn outdated character profiles) has been drip feed-esque at best, and the hunt for some manner of fulfilling legal work over the summer continues. Also, I’m trying to build a PC–parts so far include the processor, monitor, about twenty new Steam games, and this reasonably baller case:

It's on like TRON.

It’s on like TRON.

So since the only thing piling up more than sparkly, Solo cup-studded snow over here in Ithaca, NY is academic obligations, I’ll be brief in circling back around to that first joyful lead-in: It’s February 14th! Short story shorter, I’m still single, but if I wanted to straight bemoan the fact I’d send you a link to my Tumblr. Instead, in a bit of a “less is more” combo, I’ve got a pair of poems produced under varying circumstances. The first is another semiautobiographical magnetic poetry quickie I assembled while in the good ol’ “waiting room” at the UW’s English Department in the recesses of Padelford Hall while back home for the holidays. I don’t really name these ones, but I guess “What Boy” is as good a title as any:

What Boy

The second poem is one I actually wrote about a year ago, not coincidentally close to this time of the month. I didn’t share it initially because, to be honest, it’s pretty dang rough, schmaltzy, and was initially typed as “prose” on a lark describing the subject to a friend in a late-night Facebook message. I gave it and the reasons behind it some time to cool off, though, and figured today that it couldn’t hurt to toss it up again in light of the season, if only as something of an emotional time capsule–in any case, it’s vague enough that I’d like to think folks with a quirky, geeky sense of romance can relate to it (and I doubt those are in short supply on the internet!) , whether in a relationship or not. So again, just think of it as bittersweet “pop poetry,” and enjoy reading about a feeling that’s…

Hard to Describe

“Altography” [My Winter 2013 Honors Final!]

Oddly, I had a hard time picking a picture… this is the book that formed the basis of my “critique” for each image.

And now, for something completely different… something more complex and cerebral. Not to scare anybody away in the first few lines, but this is about my final for Honors English this last Winter quarter at the University of Washington! Under the guidance of the excellently-engaging Professor Caroline Simpson, we devoted our weeks as a close-knit “cohort” to the study of texts, essays, and film that explored and questioned the relationship between photography and… something that, off the top of my head, I think is best described as social change.

Did the pictures taken to expose the plight of Dust Bowl-era migrant workers really help their subjects, or just make people who saw them feel more fortunate? How much of the Abu Ghraib scandal would’ve even occured if no-one had recorded it? These questions and more drove the bulk of our group discussions, and while I was admittedly lost most of the time, I gleaned enough knowledge to eventually produce and submit this “creative thesis” (an option that mercifully arose halfway through the quarter)… for an overall course grade of 3.8!

The basic focus: Do the events, objects, and/or people immortalized in famous photographs retain their singular significance when an alternate angle or time of photography is imposed on the “Subject”? Or if an element of distortion–deliberate or not–is revealed in the “original” image? The piece proper, “Altography,” is right below, but if you want to read the more involved, academic explanation I prefaced my initial submission with, scroll down just a little further; you don’t have to read it, but it does explain the historical/critical background and terms utilized!



Can an altered perspective operate on the same Subject and still arrive at a new, profound conclusion? While this was once the question which underlined the project contained herein, it quickly became a dilemma hanging over its very formation when my goal reared up as both vague and self-limiting. A hope to better unite the scattered poems came in the form of Camera Lucida, and as my research evolved, I went from merely nodding at Barthes’ words above to deliberately challenging the limitations they declared. Barthes speaks at length on the tension between a great photograph’s studium (the obvious points of interest) and its punctum (an indefinable depth found in subtler aspects), but in turn laments the unary nature of news photographs, with “no duality, no indirection, no disturbance” (41). Applied to those journalistic snapshots which dominate the public perception of a complex Subject, this I could not deny—but could something akin to the punctum exist just “outside” the frame, understood in relation to another photograph?

It wasn’t until I encountered the “surprises” (to his Spectator; “performances” to the Photographer) characterizing photographic “shock” that I understood how to define that exterior quality. These five elements— the “rare,” the numen (rapidity immobilized), prowess, contortion, and the trouvaille (lucky find)—were not established as those of the punctum, but Barthes’ later revelation that “there exists another punctum… Time, the lacerating emphasis of the noeme (“that-has-been”), its pure representation” (96) reveals his knowledge of the possibility. The Subjects inhabiting these photographs are all unique, as are the ways in which they proffer “alternative” sides beyond different physical angles—a sub-punctum of sorts, in the seconds, meters, and manipulations separating different referents from the same Subject. There they wait, ready to expand an inherent disorientation into a space to break down and re-form assumptions surrounding Photography, particularly that of an allegedly “unary” nature. Does the frame end where the device itself captured it, or where the creator chose to crop it? Is something “added” to a photo if the contents are only switched around? Reflecting through images alone, when can an Event be said to have officially “happened”?

In attempting to answer these questions, it is my hope that the endeavor is not taken as a mere “shock to the system,” a childish surprise attack from around-the-corner. It is also my hope that the form serves the focus, for I employ melodic prose poetry with the intent to strike a balance between artistic, aesthetic introspection and academia, freeing the former from the (chrono)logical constraints of the latter while still invoking critical discourse. These poems are not puffed-up captions, but neither are the photographs which accompany them mere illustrations to an experimental essay. If ambiguity seems to pervade the pieces, it is only by the virtue of disassembling their focus: the Realm of the Photograph, where a single detail can tip the balance of visions or memory from godlike certainty or meaningless confusion. That textual quotations selected (rendered in italics) run by the same binary is no accident; for Spectator, Photographer, and Subject alike, Barthes is once again apt when he assess that a (famous) Photograph “completely de-realizes the human world of conflicts and desires, under cover of illustrating it” (118). But no matter the era, professional or amateur, black and white or color, we needn’t panic at that thought. Sometimes, if our sight is filled, we need only shift our heads.

“An Easier Way to Get Out of Our Little Heads” (A Self Portrait)

I know they're better at scuba diving, that's for sure!

I know they’re better at scuba diving, that’s for sure!

The quarter’s drawing to a close, folks! And with it, my comfort zone-extending melange of writing assignments of both the prosaic and poetic variety. However, I’ve filed this post under both the “poems” and “stories” categories because it’s of a form that’s not quite either: a literary self-portrait. In English 384 (the class that brought you “Above”), we were tasked with taking around two pages to write about ourselves in the manner our myriad course texts–from James Joyce’s A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man to Gertrude Stein’s Tender Buttons–had set an example of: by marrying subject and syntax to produce the word-based equivalent of a portrait.

This piece wasn’t stream-of-consciousness, but it was surprisingly easy, because whatever I thought was a good idea usually worked, by the very virtue of it being my thought! So in writing about myself, I tried to mimic the style of my own thoughts and personality: rambling, worried, thoughtful yet lighthearted, and careening between oddly specific tangents and vague emotional aspirations. It’s possibly the most explicitly personal piece I’ve ever shared on here, but hopefully it still entertains you as well!

After all, all I want to find is…

An Easier Way to Get Out of Our Little Heads