First of all, I really enjoy N. Katherine Hayles. What follows is just me trying to see the flip sode of the argument, as usual. On page 48, Hayles says that code has a fixed context and doesn’t have the iterability that Derrida says is inherent in all language. She says: “Code may be rendered unintelligible if transported into a different context — for example, into a different programming language or a different syntactic structure within the same language.” This seems to me to be more a problem of translation than context, and is not the issue of slippery meaning that Derrida meant context to be. This is the problem encountered by a non-Chinese speaker trying to interpret Chinese, or a speaker of modern English trying to dicipher old English: to me, this is not a context problem, but a system difference.

She says, “…contexts are precisely determined by the level and nature of the code.” Are we talking about context or meaning, here? She goes on to say that high level languages do allow code to be iterable, but for some reason this doesn’t apply to “code”. When she says “code” is she really just referring to binary? Why? Also, if it’s iterable in a higher level language and that’s translated down into binary, doesn’t the iterability still apply? My understanding of machine level language is basically non-existent, so I’m truly asking this: is the higher level code translated the same way each time it’s encountered? I think there’s an aspect of her argument that I’m missing.

Seen at the program level, code is made to be iterable, and to change context infinitely. That’s sort of the point. An If/Then statement is always going to run the same way- in that sense it is absolutely defined. But the information that an If/Then statement looks at changes all the time. What this statement allows its program to do could be anything, as Hayles goes on to point out. Why not look at the context of code at this level, where it applies? View the “sentences” or “paragraphs” instead of individual “words”, or view the whole program as it is implemented by different users? Am I misinterpreting this? Also, it is possible to have a badly written program that still runs- the precision of the individual statements doesn’t mean they combine perfectly, even if they work.

After reading Derrida and his argument that writing exceeds speech, I thought it was also interesting that Hayles argues that code exceeds writing in that in its compiling ability it enables communication between the natural languages of human and the electronic language of intelligent machines. So I guess like speech and writing, computer behaviors can be interpreted by human users at multiple levels and in diverse ways, but this activity comes after the computer activity of compiling code and executing programs.

In the discussion of code in relation to speech or writing, I consider coding as a language with artistic and literary potential but I don’t think its not just a question of what the possibilities are, but also who is the audience. If the code is art, then is the computer the audience? The nature of the code is that it is designed for the computer to interpret and act upon. I think most people who participate in this stand outside the relationship since they are either locked out of the code because of copyright issues or probably they don’t understand the code. If the code is primarily targeted for the computer’s use, can the computer offer its own brand of literary criticisms in the form of syntax checks and error reports? Is it possible for the computer to provide a more in depth critique that access the artistic nature of the code?

So, we’ve now decided that code is a language, so let’s move on to what is text. Again, in chapter 4, I think I might have missed something because I got stuck on one thing. On page 100, Hayles writes, “No print document can be reprogrammed once the ink has been pressed onto the paper, where as electronic text routinely can.” This stuck with me because I think you can in a sense reprogram the ink on pages, did I just not reprogram in a sense my typing the text into this blog? What if I cut the text out of the book and work into a collage? Again, would it not be “reprogrammed” in the sense, that I reused the same thing changing it slightly to fit where and what I need it to fit?

I felt the chapter 6, was a bit forced. We go into great detail of Patchwork Girl, more so than anything else. I can see why she feels the text is important. I think it’s interesting but maybe not as important to new media as she makes it. It’s important to say hypertext was this and that and here an example in Patchwork Girl. Yet, I don’t believe this text is vital to new media. Personally, I’m not a fan of hypertext, which probably explains why I didn’t like this chapter. Is there something else that would have worked better? She states on page 141 the reason for this pick, “I have chosen Patchwork Girl for my tutor text because I think it remains one of the most interesting of electronic fictions and because it is deeply concerned with how digital media enact and express new kinds of subjectivity.” My response to this – can’t we find something better than hypertext to express digital media and expressions of new subjectivity?

Now sure enough , Hayles also allows for the idea that code may not be a language because it can become obsolete. Once it becomes obsolete an emulator is needed. Doesn’t the same thing happen with spoken/written languages. If Japanese were to become the worldwide standard for communication, someone who stumbles upon a current English text 80+ years from now wouldn’t understand a thing. If this were the case would English then become obsolete? We as humans have emulators they are called translators, scholars , and teachers!! That is what makes it possible for a high school student to understand Elizabethan English!! And just as spoken/written languages, code builds off of earlier coding languages weather it be retaining similar rules of syntax, symbols, or ideology. Either way, I am left with the idea that maybe code code could lead to a new way of thinking about language. Instead of the code itself being the center of what is defined as language maybe it is part of some sort of system that still serves to achieve the same basic result….communication.

Does this relationship in print books to e-books or any other movement of print to electronic format extend beyond just the meaning of words? Hayle uses the William Blake Archive to illustrate how the transference of text from print to electronic form is approached by this group and how the definition of text has come into debate. The William Blake Archive attempts to mimic the physical qualities of a book, which shows that the editors believe text to include things such as color or page width. They try to remain close to the original format as possible. Like Hayle stated, the editors of the William Blake Archive would know they couldn’t completely replicate the books. They couldn’t include aspects like the feel or the smell of the book, so they had to make choices as to how close to a book they could reproduce the work.

This at first seemed absurd to me. If I wanted to read something, I wouldn’t care if the text didn’t have the same borders as the print version—the book wouldn’t suddenly change meaning if it were on one format or another. Then I started thinking on a shallow level about how much I abhor the cover of one of my textbooks. The cover juxtaposes a dirty baby blue with a glaring yellow and red-outlined bubble font. It’s not even the interior of the book that bothers me—the interior is quite structured and simple—but I can see the neon-mustard-yellow-and-moldy-blue inside cover peeking around the bound pages. If the textbook were given a different color scheme that pleased me, or if the textbook were reproduced online in only black and white, I wonder if my reading experience would change, if I would find different meanings in the text. Would the transformation of how a text is displayed really affect how someone reads it, whether in print or in electronic format?

If a text is scrawled on a cave wall, or written in blood, or baked in a cake, it would lead to different connotations than if it were typed up on a monitor. Translating those nuances into electronic form may not project the text’s full meaning or intent. Hayle, on page 97, mentions “codes that entrain attention and organize material operations.” She says that we should think about the code rather than print versus electronic media and to think of the later two as only physical objects.

Does this mean we should look at the translation and interpretation process itself rather than the outcome of that translation and interpretation? So, we are to wonder what are our choices? What do we choose to keep, thereby also choosing what to leave out, and even what do we choose to add, if anything at all, when translating? These questions seem to be the same kind of questions any translator would face, not just one moving from print to electronic media. In electronic media, however, supplementary resources such as embedded images, videos, or sounds makes translation less direct not in the way of subtraction but in addition. If we can’t add the feel of a leathery book cover, we could make the choice to convey that sensation through a different method that electronic media offers if not to leave it out altogether.

When Hayles begins going into detail about the Work as Assemblage (WaA as she terms it), and brings up the comparison to Myst and House of Leaves, it became even clearer that blogs fit really well into Hayles’ explanation. I’ll use my blog as an example of distribution and WaA as an example. My most recent blog focuses on my video work, so you have the initial blog with the links to YouTube videos. These videos are commented on both the blog and through YouTube. And then you have to think about the additional linking of each individual video, the blog, and the content of the videos. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I like using examples to whittle down an argument/concept to its basic level so that’s it’s easier for me to understand. So to me, Hayles makes a lot of sense when I think about blogs.

What I would like to bring into questions is texts being autonomous. I’ll go into more detail. “…the WaA derives it’s energy from it’s ability to mutate and transform as it grows and shrinks…” (pg 107); the thought that texts are always growing and changing based on the media they are associate with, can we really consider any text as autonomous? Is there any individuality left within the digital realm? What about an autonomous unity; is there communication between texts that allows individuality to exist? And, to take it one step further, are we going to reach a point that we forget the author of a text and consider the copies (RSS feeds, twitter, etc.) as the primary holder of the text? I don’t know if what I have typed has made any sense, but I think there is potential in these questions…and I have almost 30 hours of overtime due to lovely ol’ Halo 3 releasing. So work has been a killer and my brain might have burned out a few cells.

I find this particular passage intriguing mostly because it would seem to me one could reduce almost all things down to a “change in voltage”. An exchange of energy if you will. After all, our brains only work by making meanings of things by interpreting the firing of electrical impulses.

This leads me to wonder if all communication, not just the computer, can be reduced to ON and OFF. And, if so then just how different in as far as our communication goes are we from a computer? I’m having a hard time deciding whether or not computer code should or even could be considered a language or not. I find myself agreeing with the quote Hayles pulls from Ellan Ullman on p.48. Speaking about code, “… Its entire meaning is its function.” However if that’s the case, if code isn’t the “language” of computers, then how do we communicate with them. In my opinion, I think of code more as an interpreter of language, not necessarily a language.