Nikolas Thompson
Writing: Style & Technology
January 2003
Writer’s Block
Initially, when faced with the issue of inventing
a writing technology, I was skeptical of the challenge. However, the more
I considered the problem, the more I was forced to eliminate ideas, and
the more difficult the problem became. Even after the fact I am surprised
by the amount of trouble imprinting twenty-five words gave me. The exercise
raised my awareness on several levels. First of all, I have gained a new
appreciation for the importance of the written word. Secondly, the project
put me in a position that forced me to realize how thoroughly technology
is imbedded into my reality, and my culture.
One of the first terms a history student is asked
to define is “prehistory.” At first the term may seem a bit odd. “Prehistory...such
as a time before history? Does that make any sense?” To most it
would seem as though history should begin at the beginning of time, at the
dawn of our universe. There should be nothing existing prehistory.
The term itself should qualify as an oxymoron. It usually comes as a surprise
when new students are taught that prehistory defines an age that includes
the early period of man. The reality of this term is that it signals a
deciding invention as the point from which history begins. This invention
is writing. History begins with the written word. Without writing, our
knowledge of early human and pre human existence is limited to the current
capabilities of science. While accurate, scientific exploration paints
only a limited picture. Through science we can guess at an early human’s
life span. We can formulate some notion of diet. Science can draw conclusions
about bone structures and brain sizes. While the importance of these developments
cannot be underestimated, they tend to leave something to be desired. What’s
left out is the humanity behind these scientifically defined primitive people.
How and what did they worship? How did they communicate? What did they
dream about? Often it is questions such as these that turn our search
towards writing. These are questions that science cannot answer. This
information has to come from writing. Our interest in both the technology
behind, and the content of, the writing stems from a timeless human bond
that writing creates. We humans alone hold the capacity to inscribe.
We do not identify with our ancestors because of bone structure, brain
size, or diet. We link across millenniums with writing. They wrote, we
write. It is a bond we all understand, and this is why we date history’s
beginning with the birth of writing.
Since the invention of writing changed the very face of history, it
should come as no surprise that each advancement in the art of the written
word has marked a huge change in the possibilities of society. Consider
a time line of history’s most important events. There would be a spot marking
the birth of the Buddha, Jesus, and Muhammad. The invention of electricity
(or rather its harnessing) would be indicated. Also noted would be landmarks
in thought, such as the birth of Darwin’s theory, and that of Marx’s Manifesto
as well. Conspicuous on the list would be the entries for the various advancements
in writing. The line would note the birth of written language, perhaps
the sanskrit scribblings from the Indus Valley as an example. It would
show the Egyptian’s early efforts at paper made from Papyrus leaves. There
would be a place on the line for the advent of the printing press, enabling
the written word to spread to the masses. Also a spot for the typewriter,
and then , of course, the computer. The written word is immeasurably important.
How different history’s time line would look without writing. The birthdays
of Jesus, Buddha, and Muhammad would be insignificant without the spreading
of their words via the written form. Christianity without the Gospels?
Islam minus the Koran? Judaism without the Old Testament? Would Buddhism
have ever made it out of an isolated section of India without the transport
of the Mahayana scriptures? Not a chance. Darwinian and Marxist philosophy
would have had hardly any impact had their ideas not been published. In
fact, it could be argued that the philosophies would never have even matured
into viable social theories if the minds behind them had no means to work
out their ideas in writing. Imagine trying to formulate the Communist Manifesto
by memory. At best it would be a fairly abridged call for class warfare.
And Edison --- was his research possible without writing? Doubtful at
best. Little did I realize how hard a world void of writing would be to
visualize.
The creative process behind invention conjured up
several other reasons to appreciate writing. Most of this appreciation
came as aspects of writing that I took for granted disappeared. The ink
turned out to be the easy part. Blackberry juice: permanent, easy to harvest,
and a lovely shade of (artist formerly known as) Prince-ly purple to boot.
The only issue became the unavoidable seeds that always found there way
onto whatever surface the juice was applied to. The utensil itself was the
major problem. Oh, for the luxury of a pencil! My first attempt, while
noble, was unsuccessful. A small (pencil sized!) twig, stripped of its
bark, was the centerpiece of the initial plan. The bark was torn into strands,
and the strands tied evenly around one end of the twig, forming a rather
crafty little brush. Voile!---and it only took an hour and a half. The
problem, as I would soon find out, was that freshly peeled bark is quite
unabsorbent. The strands did a poor job holding on to the berry juice.
Additionally, these strands were, in fact, unruly. So the brush was inaccurate,
the mark it left faint, and the idea altogether scrapped. Instead I used
a flat surface on a twig created by a careful break. This worked much better.
In fact, the writing it produced was fairly legible. The biggest problem
with this method was font size. The letters were about two inches tall.
Twenty five words barely fit onto two square feet of surface area. The
surface itself was less of a problem. As long as it was lying flat (otherwise
the juice ran) I could write on just about anything. Once dry, the blackberry
juice was permanent (of course this meant the writing had to be kept still
until dry). The juice’s permanence also left little margin for error. No
editing, no erasing, no corrections.
The importance of writing’s permanence did not occur to me until, in
class, I was made aware of the various problems with impermanence that
other students had. It got me to thinking about that blasted Ong article,
and about that time line again. A spoken word is gone when the sound is
finished. A written word lingers, perhaps, for eternity. Could it not
be concluded that the significance of the written word lies in its permanence?
As we rely on writing to solidify history, aren’t we really relying more
so on the permanence of writing? If writing was momentary, what would set
it apart from speaking? Consider the technical importance of writing. A
written contract is far more binding than a verbal contract. What if the
Ten Commandments had only been spoken to Moses? Would the message from God
have changed on the way down the mountain? I think it would have. There
would have been eleven commandments, including “Thou shall soak and message
Moses’ feet at least once daily.” God took no chances on problems occurring
from the transient nature of oral discourse. God blazed the Commandments
into stone, insuring his message would be understood. This project
made me keenly aware of the importance of the unshifting written word.
My growing appreciation for the writing led me full
steam into this assignment. Unfortunately, my increasing awareness of
the technology around me caused some serious stalling. Around what corner
did technology disappear? Every new idea I came up with was met with complication.
First, I was going to write with ketchup. But I can’t make ketchup,
and squirting it out of the bottle does not qualify as natural. My solution
was fruit. The food of the God’s. The solution was so good, in fact,
that it was shared by half a dozen other students in class. The problem
was, is fruit really natural? Is anything really natural any more?
I’m sure my blackberries were bug-proofed with pesticide. Pesticide is
obviously not natural. How were the blackberries harvested and sorted?
By hand, or by an evil man displacing robot? My parents have a pesitcide-free
blackberry tree in their back yard, but thanks to the time of year, no
blackberries. Actually, all fruit found in Michigan, in January, is unnatural.
Even if it was July, how natural would it be? If your fruit is carefully
plucked from an awkward pyramid, regardless of season, it is not natural.
My father has a garden equipped with tomatos, cucumbers, squash, beans,
etc. They are surely more natural than the produce from the grocery store.
If it was July, I could exploit the friuts (pun intended) of dad’s labor.
Except that I know I have seen him lugging bags of top soil down to his
patch from the bed of his van. Processed vegi-growing dirt? That will never
do. Everthing has a qualification that keep it from being natural. Even
if I pee my name in the snow, consider the original makeup of my utencil.
Two pitchers of Tang are hardly natural. Even if I drink water I have to
reconcile the fact that it most likely came from a tap, and is therefore
unnatural based both on delivery system and flouride content. So mabey I
quaff from a river. Then, what of the snow I aim at? Is it suspect? What
if it’s acid-snow? Or, what if the snow itself fell as a result of global
warming caused by the all the Aqua-net used in the 1980’s? Finding purely
natural objects is nearly impossible. Especially in America. I imagine
a Hymalian Yak farmer would have an eaisier time digging up objects au natural.
But he’s there and I’m here: in America.
I conclude that American’s are dirty pre-fab tech
whores. But look how easy it was to write this paper. Most likely technology
is a good thing. It has made life safer for some, and easier for most.
The problem begins when we turn to technology to fill voids and solve
problems that can only be sufficiently filled and solved by an authentic,
hairy-backed, knuckle-dragging, human. Is technology to blame for the
introversion of America? I’d go into it, but the Simpson’s is starting.
Figure it out yourself.
