The irony is not lost on me.
I have set about to blog, in the digital sphere, on all things analog — analog values, lenses, activities, objects, attitudes and ways of being. The very technology which makes my venture possible derives from principles alien to my subject.
What the heck. Irony is an analog construct.
But why is that? I just said it. My intuition tells me it is true, or that the notion has merit. If I listen hard enough, maybe it will tell me its secrets.
This is inquiry. Not knowing, nor believing, but wondering. There is no clinging to be had upon these seas — except when you do, and you will, cling that is, to some passing certitude, like flotsam that seems to offer salvation but in the end proves to be a false anchor. For how can one explore the depths if one cannot dive? How can one reach the horizon if she cannot swim? And if one cannot encounter the vastness, willingly, what then?
Consider young Pip, in Moby Dick, when he jumps overboard the Pequod and is abandoned to his fate:
Now, in calm weather, to swim in the open ocean is as easy to the practised swimmer as to ride in a spring-carriage ashore. But the awful lonesomeness is intolerable. The intense concentration of self in the middle of such a heartless immensity, my God! who can tell it? Mark, how when sailors in a dead calm bathe in the open sea- mark how closely they hug their ship and only coast along her sides.
And so, the vastness transforms Pip against his will:
The sea had leeringly kept his finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his soul. Not drowned entirely, though. Rather carried down alive to wondrous depths, where strange shapes of the unwarped primal world glided to and fro before his passive eyes; and the miser-merman, Wisdom, revealed his hoarded heaps; and among the joyous, heartless, ever-juvenile eternities, Pip saw the multitudinous, God-omnipresent, coral insects, that out of the firmament of waters heaved the colossal orbs.
There is a hidden universe inside all things. Who are we to contend with such immensity? Perhaps clinging is best. And yet, the mystery calls, and one wonders what Pip’s fate would have been had he willingly submitted to the depths. Does clinging to the known save us after all? Does it alter the nature of existence, or merely maroon us from ourselves?
What happens when we let go?
Back, then, to irony and its analog nature. I am listening, and this is what I hear. That irony consists of contrast, and contrast can only arise in the relation between things. It is born from the marriage of apparent opposites, and yet its own nature is unique and strange. It is subtle, not gross, something to be grasped indirectly. That all sounds pretty analog to me.
In the end, though, the irony resolves itself, back into wholeness. I have drawn a dichotomy, invented it, as one does a castle on air — analog vs. digital — and set about to explore its nebulous terrain. And yet the dichotomy, like a hologram, is present in the very design of my enterprise — a celebration of analog virtues, made possible by digital technology, just as the dichotomy makes possible the inquiry itself.
Let us see where it will lead.
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[“There is no clinging to be had upon these seas — except when you do, and you will, cling that is, to some passing certitude, like flotsam that seems to offer salvation but in the end proves to be a false anchor.”]
This part of your passage REALLY struck me. I think it is absolutely beautiful. For me, the use of the word clinging was significant and sent me on a thought journey of my own. When I find myself clinging I am most often having a difficult time separating myself from something that has fear associated with it. I have an interesting relationship with fear ( and it’s in-law anxiety). I think we all do. Fear can be like a strong wind that blows that ship off course and can make the instrument panel spin. Making it hard to know East from West. My journey has been to pursue more balance, more self-measure, in situations when I find myself clinging to false anchors.That clinging brings up an image of grasping, which can lead to panic and then there is that fear lurking like gray fog. I love the imagery of flotsam as a false anchor. That is really powerful to me- something that appears solid but when you grasp at it there is no support to be found. I think our current world has a lot of flotsam in it. Especially the digital world…. much less flotsam in the analog world. Much like the sailors that still hugged their ship when bathing in calm open seas, I have found that we all need our analog ship even when the seas are calm. It helps us get our sea-legs underneath us. It builds our confidence. It helps us see the horizon or look down to the depths from a safe platform. That ship represents security, a safe haven from the fog of fear. However, I think your words “alter the nature of existence… merely maroon us from ourselves?” is quite profound. For me, at least, letting go of that ship to explore that hidden universe is a strong call as if there are pieces of myself still to discover on the shore of the horizon.
So, yes, as you said, irony makes itself very visible in contrast.
Great thought-journey Julie! Thank you for providing the fodder.
Beautifully said. You’ve taken the metaphor to a new level here, and I think you’ve honed in on the heart of the matter — how we relate to fear. What’s the difference between clinging and finding true anchor? How do our “analog” senses help us with this? And how do we, in any real, practical way, “let go” in the face of fear. What I love about your response here is that there’s room to dwell in the question of it, because that’s the whole point — answers are false anchor. Thank you for bringing such depth and personal honesty to the conversation!
Maybe digital values have also been expressed on analog platforms, and maybe this has happened for many centuries. Like many people in the humanities today, I tend to demonize digital experience. This post makes me stop and think. Isidore of Seville’ massive compendium of Etymologies is digitally precise and rather dry, yet it is filled with creativity and ambiguity and celebration of the world we live in. And even the Julian of Norwich creates a branching website of mystic visions.
I love what you’re saying, because it’s the dichotomy itself I find interesting and I’m hoping to explore it in the spirit of play and inquiry, as a useful and illuminating lens for our experience in our changing times. I look at the “Me Too” and “Black Lives Matter” movements and I am aware that these are extraordinary expressions of digital reality. They were literally made possible by digital technology, but they also reflect the accompanying shift in our collective world view. For myself, I’m not against this evolution, and if I was, it wouldn’t much matter! But I do think it’s worthwhile to stop and reflect of the worth of certain attitudes, activities and values that might be overlooked and left behind in our leap into the future. And I think there’s something unique about this shift we’re experiencing now, along the lines of what happened during the industrial revolution. The implications are fundamental!