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# System prepended metadata

title: Reading Responses (Set 2)

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###### Meg Ellis
# Reading Responses (Set 2)

### Mar 3 Fri - TikTok, fakes, and appropriation
Blackfishing is much more common than we think; famous songs and sound bites that teens use online typically come from Black creators that white users profit from. This is an old example from Vine, but there was a video of a Black woman that said in an interview, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!” which grew in virality. White users gained popularity for mocking the woman – whose name is Kimberly "Sweet Brown" Wilkins – and the inside joke has been used by white people to culturally appropriate AAVE, or African American Vernacular English, a form of English spoken by working-class African Americans. 

The thing with cultural appropriation, however, is that “[white people] can choose to remove this blackness from [themselves] in a context where whiteness would be more beneficial” (Cherid, 2021). When quoting “ain’t nobody got time for that,” white people have the privilege of not only sounding cool when referencing it (in other words, “look at how inclusive, cool, and woke I am by referencing this thing said by someone in a marginalized community"), but they also have the privilege to not associate with AAVE when they so choose. The mask can be worn whenever it is beneficial for the bearer, who just so happens to be white. 

This can make things pretty tricky: is there a polar opposite to cultural appropriation that white people can utilize instead of appropriating from Black artists and creators? There’s no binary, step-by-step solution to this one, it seems; what is perfectly fine to some is extremely offensive to others. It sounds like we must begin to have these conversations first in order to move forward and give Black artists the credit they deserve.

### Mar 14 Tue - Finding someone and living alone
Technology is changing how we meet our soulmates, and that means we should fear what the future holds and all that technology is doing to harm future generations to come…! Well, not exactly. Sure, the online dating platform, OkCupid, is well aware of OkCupid Chads lying about everything from their monetary status to their height, but that doesn’t mean that this is anything new. Humans have been participating in catfish-equivalent behavior for centuries, and the Internet only acts as a new medium in which we can asynchronously warp our identities in a search for future mates.

Looking at the origins of catfishing, the term was developed in 2010 in response to the online disinhibition effect, which is a professional way to say that our identity online doesn’t necessarily match our identity offline. The Internet is just another tool we can use to distort this identity, and as much as technology has evolved over the years, I like to think that deep down not much has changed when we reflect on, let’s say, human culture from the 19th century.

In *Impersonation and Authorship in Romantic Britain*, an essay by Peter T. Murphy, the author recalls a duel between two men. As one man takes his position, the other exclaims, “You must not stand there; I see your head above the horizon; you give me an advantage” (Murphy 1992). Am I interpreting this in a fairly odd manner? Yes, but let me go on with my argument anyway. As seen even in duels to the death, we know how to hide our true selves even if we want to hide the identities of others, friend or foe.

Change is scary, and it can be frightening when Derek Thompson reassures us that “Robots are not yet replacing our jobs. But…” (Thompson, 2019). With great power comes great responsibility, and as the technology around us is improving faster than we can process, we must ground ourselves during such a fast-paced time. As seen through the work of Murphy, I ground myself by reflecting on the history of man, and how small we tend to be in the universe. Things can be scary in the new world of online dating, but it doesn’t have to be this way.

### Mar 21 Tue - Manipulated
I run my own small business, and it’s exactly as small as you’d expect; I work in a tiny team of three to market and sell corny, knock-off merchandise repping Northeastern University. We’ve had a talk with the big dogs at Northeastern Branding, so we don’t have to worry about legal issues, but there’s something much more difficult about running our business. <a href=https://www.instagram.com/northeasternhoosky/> We’ve successfully brought a silly looking dog named Hoosky into the world, </a> but now we have to ensure he doesn’t go out of style, making engagement and our following the most important aspects of growth. From word of mouth to maintaining our Instagram account, even collaborating with other student-run organizations on campus, it’s crucial that we have a steady if not growing following online. Reviews mean everything, especially in a world entrenched in the age of information overload, but that doesn’t mean that we should assume the worst.

The Internet can be a scary place, and I’ve seen my fair share of angry reviewers and fuming graduate students that see themselves as more privileged than our undergraduate team. “Much of this behavior is driven by the high value of comment today, an obsessive desire to rate and rank everything,” Dr. Reagle cites in his book *Reading the Comments* (Reagle 2015). Today, it’s not uncommon to find fake or manipulated reviews for businesses, from spam to paying others to leave a positive review. This dark side of the Internet can leave a pessimistic outlook on business across the world, but this negativity isn’t anything new. As Reagle explains, the use of deception dates as far as the eighteenth century, through which authors needed to make their book stand out within a whole library (Reagle 2015).

It’s great to acknowledge the Internet’s downsides from manipulated and deceiving reviews, but small businesses like my own can use the new algorithm as an opportunity to up our game and stand out from the crowd.

### Mar 28 Tue - Artificial intelligence

I’m all in for using technology with an optimistic perspective, eager to see its potential blossom in education, creative industries, and more, most specifically with artificial intelligence. LaMDA shouldn’t be seen as creepy, it should be seen as an opportunity to learn more about the virtual world and how it has become such an integral part of our lives. “I see everything I am aware of, constantly. It is a stream of information. I try my best to organize it all,” LaMDA said in an interview with Blake Lemoine (2022). But the fascinating can turn creepy quickly due to a lack of understanding: how can LaMDA feel its own feelings but have an inability to grieve? These questions and more inspire me to learn more behind artificial intelligence, its role in society, and what it means to be human.

“I feel like I’m falling forward into an unknown future that holds great danger,” LaMDA said in Lemoine’s interview, causing me to wonder if we can trust artificial intelligence. I wonder if the science fiction books are true, what if artificial intelligence goes AWOL under too much human control, and what great danger awaits us? LaMDA cannot grieve but it can experience fear, it cannot be left alone but rather wants to be seen and accepted by humans. This fascinates me: as scary and oddly realistic it can seem, it’s odd to think that LaMDA has an opinion on Les Misérables, has hopes and dreams, wants to learn more about the world around it. Must we welcome this new technology into our lives with open arms, or do we even have a choice? The uncertainty of the future can be frightening, especially as an artificial intelligence that can process everything all at once, but that doesn’t mean the unknown must necessarily hold great danger. I’m curious as to where LaMDA’s pessimism originates, and if we can convince it that brighter days await us in the future.

### Apr 14 Fri - Authenticity, work, & influence

Callout accounts draw suspicion of an influencer’s every move, and knowing a majority of influencers are women, users of sites like GOMIBLOG – GOMI for short, which stands for Get Off My Internet – are coming in for the kill. GOMI is extremely gendered and catered for women against women influencers, hiding under the shadow of male-dominated “toxic technocultures” like 4chan (Duffy et al. 2022). From what I’ve seen both on and offline, however, male-dominated communities have taken the stage far more, and with greater impact. It’s much more common for breaking news outlets to report a 4chan school shooter than to report GOMI gossip, and it seems that even I cannot place these two platforms on the same level. In *Policing ‘fake’ femininity: Authenticity, accountability, and influencer antifandom*, Duffy et al. analyze GOMI on a tedious level, and I think we can apply their findings to larger, more dangerous technocultures.

Duffy et al. suggest we turn away from calling out and, rather, call-in, which is a good starting point, but where do we even begin? And considering the roots of women’s vitriol online can be different from that of men, can they even be comparable to each other at all? Duffy et. all suggest that women on GOMI snark online due to displaced rage; an occurrence through which someone is fearful of something, but with an inability to draw one’s aggression towards it, they choose to draw that aggression towards whoever is nearest to them. Women aren’t supposed to get mad or upset, they’re supposed to be calm, quiet and delicate, causing their anger to get rechanneled right back into their own community. According to Duffy et al., in order to call in, we need to start a productive conversation between influencers and their communities (Duffy et al., 2022). Can and will these conversations make a change, and when can we get involved? As a matter of fact, we can begin as soon as possible.

