deerstalker
https://blacknerdproblems.com/a-i-in-the-age-of-the-absence-of-the-author/
Back in high school, one of my English teachers introduced the idea of “The Death of the Author.” It’s a type of literary critique where the work is analyzed entirely independently of its creator. The idea behind it is that the work exists as its own entity and as such, the merits and demerits of the work should be extracted by what the reader is able to glean from it. The theory argues that if you account for the author, you are potentially closing yourself from a “pure” interpretation of the text and thus limit its meaning.
It’s a noble concept in some respects, the idea of separating the art from the artists. The acknowledgement that the work exists outside of its tangible connection to the creator. However, time and time again, we see that who the author is is a constant influence on the work’s existence. H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos is deeply seated within his extreme racism. Orson Scott Card’s homophobia infiltrates any potential reading of the Ender’s Game series. And we don’t nearly have time to dissect all of the things going on with a particular wizard related franchise.
The contrapositive is also true. The Matrix franchise is a trans allegory for the Wachowski sisters. The Boy and The Heron as a pseudo-autobiographical tale of Hayao Miyazaki’s life. The creation of Superman was deeply informed by Jerry Seigal and Joe Shuster’s personal life. In order to truly understand and appreciate the work, knowing who the author is and what their intentions were is a prerequisite to truly analyze anything going on.
The long and short of this reduces down to a simple sentiment: context matters. Context defines everything. To examine something in a vacuum is recklessly reductive and while it can be useful like frictionless airtight physics questions, in media critique, you have to look at things holistically.
However, as we close out 2023, while keeping the author in mind remains a relevant exercise, we have been faced with a different sort of problem. This is a year that has unfortunately been defined by “the absence of the author” in a plethora of ways.
The most emblematic example is one that I’ve been rallying against for a while and one that I will have to continue to rally against as it has proven to be so much more insidious and pervasive than I could have ever imagined. I’m of course talking about the uptick in the use of “artificial intelligence” (in quotes, because in its current practice, there’s a significant amount of machine learning involved and it’s important to make these distinctions if for no other reason than to hold out hope that the future actual A.I. overlords will be appreciative of the distinctive) pretty much everywhere. The uptick of online generators such as DALL-E, Midjourney, ChatGPT, InfoGPT, and now… Grok puts the technology at the forefront of the cultural zeitgeist, but the use of AI as a means of artistic bypass is nothing new in the slightest. The tipping point, at least in my eyes, continues to be the digital resurrection of James Dean for a movie (feel free to browse through our podcast This Week in Nerd News for more of me and my friends lamenting this weird reality) something facilitated by a CMG Worldwide which manages the digital likeliness of several notable figures, a fact that we’ll get back to in a bit.
But for now, let’s stick with generative A.I. for a moment. A wide range of “tools” have been used to create everything from comics, paintings, and movies. As the technology has evolved (stolen more data), the quality has improved but there remains a soullessness. If we take a look at some of the examples from yesteryear, we have the A.I. assisted comic that lost copyright protection (because unsurprisingly, using a celebrity’s likeness without permission is illegal).
And the recurring thought in my head is that there is definitely a space for A.I. assistance. There is something to be said about the automation of the monotonous. We can see the reasonable use of A.I. in Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse, where machine learning helps reduce the amount of repetitive work that the animators need to and then verify the output personally. The combination of using self-sourced work of not relying on the A.I. generated content as gospel is what distinguishes what the populous perception of A.I. art with, you know, actual art. Deliberate choice, cognizant decision making, an actual example of A.I. as being a tool.
If we look at say, “Théâtre D’opéra Spatial” generated by Midjourney as instructed by Jason M. Allen which made waves after it won a state fair last, it definitely looks nice but outside of that, it’s as thinly veiled as the generic Space Opera Theater text that seeded it. This of course was made during the relative infancy of the technology, and the generated art is getting better each and every day, but there’s something off putting about a piece of work that you can’t truly interrogate, something saddening about the lack of any true human intervention, something maddening about the pastiche of images fashioning itself into something supposedly bespoke without acknowledging the source.
And in these examples and any other example, it comes back to the same central point that keeps me up at night. There is no deliberate choice being made. There is no context. A string of words that gets converted to pixels vis a vis a machine does not produce work that can be analyzed. There is no artistry to be found. There are no meaningful decisions made. Any work produced by A.I. inherently is absent of an author by definition.
However, all of the above talks of A.I. directly intersect with another example of 2023 absent authors: the 2023 Writers/Actors Strikes. In addition to wanting a fair wage from the streaming revenue, several of the biggest debate points for WGA and SAG-AFTRA was the use of A.I. in their respective fields, whether it was ChatGPT making scripts or curating the digital likeliness of big names and background actors (I told you the digital resurrection of James Dean was going to come back up). And thankfully, some preventive measures were put into place, but this has also led to the fact that after a year of exception content, we are likely going to feel the absence of these creators in 2024 and 2025 since they weren’t making art because they were busy fighting for their basic livelihood. The idea of the noble artist doing art for art’s sake is perhaps one of the most frustrating antiquated notions perpetuated because at its base, art is fundamental to espousing cultural concepts. Art is important as preserving time periods and ideologies. Art is a fundamental part of our society, and we feel the absence of authors every time they are not able to make work.
So, as we go into the New Year, be mindful of the content droughts induced by corporate greed, that denied writers and actors fair terms to work, and that laid off massive numbers of video games developers. Be mindful of the A.I. work unethically stealing from far too numerous a source to lay down. Be mindful that there are ways to use new technology in a way that doesn’t foster works that are completely absent of authors. Because, and this is worth emphasizing again, we feel it when authors are absent.
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The post A.I. : In the Age of the Absence of the Author appeared first on Black Nerd Problems.
Back in high school, one of my English teachers introduced the idea of “The Death of the Author.” It’s a type of literary critique where the work is analyzed entirely independently of its creator. The idea behind it is that the work exists as its own entity and as such, the merits and demerits of the work should be extracted by what the reader is able to glean from it. The theory argues that if you account for the author, you are potentially closing yourself from a “pure” interpretation of the text and thus limit its meaning.
It’s a noble concept in some respects, the idea of separating the art from the artists. The acknowledgement that the work exists outside of its tangible connection to the creator. However, time and time again, we see that who the author is is a constant influence on the work’s existence. H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos is deeply seated within his extreme racism. Orson Scott Card’s homophobia infiltrates any potential reading of the Ender’s Game series. And we don’t nearly have time to dissect all of the things going on with a particular wizard related franchise.
The contrapositive is also true. The Matrix franchise is a trans allegory for the Wachowski sisters. The Boy and The Heron as a pseudo-autobiographical tale of Hayao Miyazaki’s life. The creation of Superman was deeply informed by Jerry Seigal and Joe Shuster’s personal life. In order to truly understand and appreciate the work, knowing who the author is and what their intentions were is a prerequisite to truly analyze anything going on.
The long and short of this reduces down to a simple sentiment: context matters. Context defines everything. To examine something in a vacuum is recklessly reductive and while it can be useful like frictionless airtight physics questions, in media critique, you have to look at things holistically.
However, as we close out 2023, while keeping the author in mind remains a relevant exercise, we have been faced with a different sort of problem. This is a year that has unfortunately been defined by “the absence of the author” in a plethora of ways.
The most emblematic example is one that I’ve been rallying against for a while and one that I will have to continue to rally against as it has proven to be so much more insidious and pervasive than I could have ever imagined. I’m of course talking about the uptick in the use of “artificial intelligence” (in quotes, because in its current practice, there’s a significant amount of machine learning involved and it’s important to make these distinctions if for no other reason than to hold out hope that the future actual A.I. overlords will be appreciative of the distinctive) pretty much everywhere. The uptick of online generators such as DALL-E, Midjourney, ChatGPT, InfoGPT, and now… Grok puts the technology at the forefront of the cultural zeitgeist, but the use of AI as a means of artistic bypass is nothing new in the slightest. The tipping point, at least in my eyes, continues to be the digital resurrection of James Dean for a movie (feel free to browse through our podcast This Week in Nerd News for more of me and my friends lamenting this weird reality) something facilitated by a CMG Worldwide which manages the digital likeliness of several notable figures, a fact that we’ll get back to in a bit.
But for now, let’s stick with generative A.I. for a moment. A wide range of “tools” have been used to create everything from comics, paintings, and movies. As the technology has evolved (stolen more data), the quality has improved but there remains a soullessness. If we take a look at some of the examples from yesteryear, we have the A.I. assisted comic that lost copyright protection (because unsurprisingly, using a celebrity’s likeness without permission is illegal).
And the recurring thought in my head is that there is definitely a space for A.I. assistance. There is something to be said about the automation of the monotonous. We can see the reasonable use of A.I. in Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse, where machine learning helps reduce the amount of repetitive work that the animators need to and then verify the output personally. The combination of using self-sourced work of not relying on the A.I. generated content as gospel is what distinguishes what the populous perception of A.I. art with, you know, actual art. Deliberate choice, cognizant decision making, an actual example of A.I. as being a tool.
If we look at say, “Théâtre D’opéra Spatial” generated by Midjourney as instructed by Jason M. Allen which made waves after it won a state fair last, it definitely looks nice but outside of that, it’s as thinly veiled as the generic Space Opera Theater text that seeded it. This of course was made during the relative infancy of the technology, and the generated art is getting better each and every day, but there’s something off putting about a piece of work that you can’t truly interrogate, something saddening about the lack of any true human intervention, something maddening about the pastiche of images fashioning itself into something supposedly bespoke without acknowledging the source.
And in these examples and any other example, it comes back to the same central point that keeps me up at night. There is no deliberate choice being made. There is no context. A string of words that gets converted to pixels vis a vis a machine does not produce work that can be analyzed. There is no artistry to be found. There are no meaningful decisions made. Any work produced by A.I. inherently is absent of an author by definition.
However, all of the above talks of A.I. directly intersect with another example of 2023 absent authors: the 2023 Writers/Actors Strikes. In addition to wanting a fair wage from the streaming revenue, several of the biggest debate points for WGA and SAG-AFTRA was the use of A.I. in their respective fields, whether it was ChatGPT making scripts or curating the digital likeliness of big names and background actors (I told you the digital resurrection of James Dean was going to come back up). And thankfully, some preventive measures were put into place, but this has also led to the fact that after a year of exception content, we are likely going to feel the absence of these creators in 2024 and 2025 since they weren’t making art because they were busy fighting for their basic livelihood. The idea of the noble artist doing art for art’s sake is perhaps one of the most frustrating antiquated notions perpetuated because at its base, art is fundamental to espousing cultural concepts. Art is important as preserving time periods and ideologies. Art is a fundamental part of our society, and we feel the absence of authors every time they are not able to make work.
So, as we go into the New Year, be mindful of the content droughts induced by corporate greed, that denied writers and actors fair terms to work, and that laid off massive numbers of video games developers. Be mindful of the A.I. work unethically stealing from far too numerous a source to lay down. Be mindful that there are ways to use new technology in a way that doesn’t foster works that are completely absent of authors. Because, and this is worth emphasizing again, we feel it when authors are absent.
Want to get Black Nerd Problems updates sent directly to you? Sign up here! Follow us on Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, and Instagram!
The post A.I. : In the Age of the Absence of the Author appeared first on Black Nerd Problems.
Since 2021, the United States has experienced its worst years for maternal mortality. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 2021 saw a 40 percent increase in maternal mortality from the previous year.
These deaths occurred during pregnancy or up to 42 days after and “occurred from any cause related to or aggravated by the pregnancy or its management.” While the rate was 26.6 deaths per 100,000 live births for white birthing people, in the Black community, the rate was nearly 70 deaths per 100,000 live births. Black birthing people are 2.6 times more likely to die during pregnancy, childbirth, or in the weeks following labor than our white counterparts.
As we talk about reproductive justice, it is also important to talk about climate justice and how they are very much linked together. Climate justice is a framework that intersects the social, political, and ethical questions of how its benefits and burdens are differentially distributed. For example, socially marginalized groups experience the brunt of climate impacts while having limited to very little contribution in producing policies.
In Pittsburgh, people are breathing air that is filled with toxic matter, according to the American Lung Association. It’s gotten so bad, in fact, that in 2019, Pittsburgh was determined to be the worst place for Black women and birthing people to live.
Under-regulated chemicals such as vinyl chloride, the chemical spilled in the East Palestine, Ohio, train derailment earlier this year, harm both the fetus and the pregnant person. Research has also linked hotter temperatures and wildfires due to climate change to higher rates of premature and low birth weight babies.
Most researchers agree that the effects of climate degradation and pollution on maternal and infant health have heavier consequences for Black people. They’ve also found the effect of extreme heat on preterm birth in Texas, California, Massachusetts, and Alabama are greater for Black people than their white counterparts.
In September 2023, the city of New Orleans and some surrounding parishes in south Louisiana began to prepare for three months of saltwater intrusion in the local water supply. In the meantime, current Louisiana Attorney General and Louisiana governor-elect Jeff Landry can be held partially responsible for the city’s ability to address the now sidestepped crisis, as well as the decayed state of the city’s entire water infrastructure.
Landry personally solicited the Louisiana State Bond Commission last year to withhold millions in funding from the New Orleans Sewage and Water Board due to the city government’s refusal to arrest and prosecute women in the wake of Louisiana’s total ban on abortion. The New Orleans Sewage and Water Board remains in desperate need of funding to take care of necessary repairs to its four water intake structures — one of which that has been inoperable for over 30 years.
Pregnant people in low-income neighborhoods in US cities, often where Black people live, do not face just one environmental health problem but often several, including air pollution, water pollution, lack of access to fresh produce, unlivable urban heat islands, and much more.
If we are going to be concerned about reproductive and maternal health, we have to pay attention to the climate crisis and other environmental disasters. On the other side of the mirror, people concerned about our planet’s environment need to pay more attention to the increases in maternal and infant mortality.
At the intersection of sexism and racism, we will find Black women facing a unique set of health outcomes under climate change. State-sponsored racist and sexist violence against Black girls and women in the United States has informed health outcomes throughout history. The truth is that gendered racism influences chronic health outcomes and climate change exacerbates them. Our bodies have the ability to adapt to minor and even repetitive injuries. But then there are those chronic stressors that take their toll, including housing insecurity, food and water insecurity, racialized gendered trauma, sexual violence, poverty, and more.
Black women have always been caretakers, whether we’ve wanted to be or not. The stereotypes that were created during slavery to justify the exploitation of Black women has continued to reinforce the idea of Black women as martyrs, jeopardizing their own health for the comfort of others. As it exists today, this stereotype could directly result in higher rates of infectious diseases among Black women under climate change.
The Biden-Harris administration has been somewhat outspoken on reproductive rights and has pledged to take climate action. But they have yet to connect the dots between the environmental justice and the reproductive justice crisis in the United States, even as they work to tackle both separately.
It is Congress that has to make sure the health needs and the right to a healthy environment are protected for people who are pregnant. It should be a simple thing; a natural thing. The Environmental Protection Agency needs to include reproductive justice organizations at every level fighting for pregnancy health on behalf of at-risk mothers.
Obstetrician/gynecologists also have a unique opportunity to raise awareness, educate, and advocate for mitigation strategies to reverse climate change affecting their patients and their families. I wonder how many of them do.
The Biden-Harris administration would also do well to establish some type of task force that works with the maternal and newborn health community, combining environmental advances with maternal and infant health. If it fails to do so, the maternal crisis in the United States will only continue to get worse.
Maybe Jason Momoa and director James Wan have been spending too much time on the set of Fast and Furious, or maybe just being around Vin Diesel saturates your brain with one idea, because the central theme in DC Studios’ latest film, Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom, is family. Although the word family isn’t said a trillion times in the film, it is solidified throughout the film with the reminder that Aquaman is not only King of Atlantis but a father, a son, and a big brother.
Jokes aside, I appreciated the direction the writers went with Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom. It had its sweet and heartfelt moments, while still being a fun, action-packed, lively, superhero film.
The film picks up as a direct sequel to Aquaman (2018). It is best to watch the first film for a refresher before watching this one. The film’s director and co-writer, James Wan, said it’s great to watch them both back to back. Black Manta (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) is on a mission of vengeance. He wants to kill Arthur and all he holds dear as payback for his father’s death. While searching for a way to power his suit, Black Manta finds the Black Trident, a dark relic powered by an evil ancient force.
Between brief conversations on ocean preservation and global warming, Arthur must work with his little brother, Orm, to protect the kingdom and stop Black Manta from destroying the planet. Along with Momoa and Abdul-Mateen II, also returning is Patrick Willson as Orm, Nicole Kidman as Atlanna, Temuera Morrison as Tom Curry, Dolph Lundgren as King Nereus, and Amber Heard as Mera. New to the action (apart from the post-credit scene in Aquaman) is Randall Park, along with Martin Short, Jani Zhao, and Indya Moore.
One of the fun things about this film is its action sequences. The choreography, the stunts, and the pacing all work really well together in Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom. The jungle scenes are incredible and probably my favorite parts in this film. Any time Yahya Abdul-Mateen II uses the black trident is a notable experience. The final epic battle with trident versus trident is intense and captivating. The fighting choreo steps it up a notch compared to Aquaman (2018). Seeing these moments in IMAX 3D really makes it pop. It is also cool to see more of Atlantis. But it did leave me wondering where the human-like people hung out because all we saw were quirky CGI fish characters.
Speaking of baddie Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, he kills it as Black Manta. The ruthlessness, the ferociousness, the raw intensity all add up to a performance where he shows up and shows out. His upgraded suit is necessary for plot and substance. There was some clunkiness in the first film, but the kinks have been worked out in time for the sequel. He looks amazing, but his dialogue is lacking. The pain of losing his father and his brooding presence is felt, and he continues the villain role nicely.
Patrick Wilson is honestly one of my favorite actors to watch. He has an acting quality that really makes those around him step up their game, which is why I think the brotherhood/family storyline worked. Orm had the biggest character development of all the characters in Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom. His character arc had more appeal in this sequel, even more so than Aquaman himself. While Momoa can deliver the comedy and corny lines, Wilson brings a sincerity and balance to the cast. He isn’t over the top or super dramatic but offers a well-deserved lesson in redemption.
The whole family theme is really thrown in our faces — not sure if the rewrites and reshoots had a lot to do with it, but the amount of Guinness and Aquaman dad montages seem unnecessary. Just when it feels like he was a single parent, a random shot of Mera (Heard) will occur. The Arthur and kid scenes seem like a different film and slightly clumsy. I would have respected it more if he were a single dad at that point trying to balance family, relationships, and ruling a kingdom.
Other themes that didn’t hit as well were those centered on the Earth’s resources and the land and sea balance. What could have been a real Happy Feet moment ended up being a lackluster conversation in a film tiptoeing around the original reason Arthur took up the role as king in the first place: to keep Atlantis from attacking the surface.
Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom is slightly predictable, but still entertaining. The theme of family sits at the center of the film with focus on the father-son and brother relationships. It’s nice to see superheroes in that “real life” light, but unfortunately, the daddy-and-me moments lack the heart and impact that the sibling bonding moments hold. The entire film is a little more grownup, but still uneven. Momoa has had a good run as Aquaman in the DC franchise, and I will be sad to see him go if this is indeed the last time he will don the gold and green.
Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom is in theaters Friday, December 22, 2023.