Semester 1

Unit 1: Objectification and Software Objects

The first form of objectification present in The Lifestyle of Software Objects is ownership. Digients, while sentient beings, are seen as things owned by people. The morality of the ownership of digients is ambiguous. The digients were essentially created to be owned by people and require an “owner” due to their need for training. However, the parallels between digients and human children somewhat justify their state of being owned because a child-parent relationship usually involves some level of “ownership” of the child at a young age. However, the ambiguity of the morality of this relationship is complicated because humans have more control of their digients than parents do to their children–in particular, they have the power to turn their digients off or erase portions of their memory. An instance of ownership (that also demonstrates denial of autonomy) in which Derek, Ana’s friend, exercises his human power over his digient is seen when the digient asks to be “rolled back” following a fight. Derek denies the digient this luxury, which leads to a moral quandary: is refusing the digient’s request exercising ownership and denial of autonomy, or would removing its memory objectify it more by removing a learning experience? 

Another form of objectification present in the novella is instrumentality. Hints of instrumentality underlie the bulk of the reading, but it is clearly present in forum discussions on page 112 when Stuart mentions that the Drayta, a sophonce breed of digient specialized to solve puzzles, was useful to have on a mission. He then compares his proposed use of digients to that of a guide dog or a drug-sniffing dog. Digients are somewhere between dogs and humans on the spectrum of intelligence/consciousness, so again, the morality of this situation is unclear. What if the digients are specifically bred to enjoy the work they are meant to do–is it still morally wrong? This moral quandary is similar to the one presented in the previous paragraph because it demonstrates the human ability to change the digient in some way that, while the human may objectify, improves the digient’s quality of life in some way. 

The third form of objectification is violability. This form is seen most explicitly in the actions of the griefers, who are similar to today’s internet trolls except here, they are causing real pain to sentient beings by removing the digients’ pain circuit-breakers installed by programmers. Violability is also seen when a hacker shows the digients pornographic content–these digients are at the intellectual level of human children, and exposing them to adult content is harmful to their artificial minds. 

Unit 2: Theatre of the Oppressed Response

The final sentence in today’s reading feels particularly relevant to the question. The sentence is “The practice of these theatrical forms creates a sort of uneasy sense of incompleteness that seeks fulfillment through real action” (Boal 143). One of the exercises Boal discusses in his synopsis of the project to bring all forms of literacy to a Peru community involves having the spectator-actors plan and subsequently act out a revolution against a factory supervisor. This is an example of forum theater, which requires the participant to “intervene decisively” with the action taking place on stage. 

Boal discusses his procedure for his forum theater in the third stage of his three-stage plan: “The spectator is encouraged to intervene in the action, abandoning his condition of object and assuming fully the role of subject.” He lists parts of this stage: the first, to get spectators to intervene without them appearing on the stage; the second, to sculpt the bodies of those on stage in order to represent his feelings and thoughts; the third, to fully intervene in the action of the play and assume a power role. The spectator, via this process, slowly transitions into an empowered spectator-actor. By simulating a real-life situation in the theater setting, participants gain a sort of hunger for the real thing—the acting promotes that sense of incompleteness without the real world situation being fulfilled. The theater of the oppressed is always unfinished because it can be brought into and applied to the world in order to form a more productive society. By making these supposed spectators into actors, the theater of the oppressed returns power to those participants who did not before have it. Boal’s forum theater is a vehicle for justice and a catalyst for change. 

Unit 3: Commonalities

The play, readings, and songs that we have engaged with in the Spirit Unit all reveal different realities of the black experience in America. Common themes emerged between the types of sources. One theme that was present in multiple sources was the idea of black Americans’ view of themselves being heavily impacted by society. This theme was most explicit in the DuBois reading from The Souls of Black Folk via the metaphor of the veil. Du Bois describes the veil as being double-sided: it both acts as a screen through which society views black Americans and as something through which the black American views white society and themselves. The metaphor of the veil results in what Du Bois calls “double-consciousness,” or a splitting of the single human consciousness into two: one of oneself, and one of others’ view of oneself. Du Bois’ concept of the veil manifests in his short story “The Comet” when the elimination of society causes the black main character’s veil to be removed. With society gone, Jim sees society through a new lens, and views himself as human for the first time. The re-introduction of society at the end of the story swiftly splits his consciousness again. This theme also emerged briefly in Blood at the Root between the main character and her white friend. 

A function of multimodal forms of critique is to properly address every facet of a particular issue. When learning about systemic racism in the United States, having 4-5 different mediums through which we can view an issue paints a more developed picture of the problem and creates deeper understanding. For example, a play is an accurate representation of a real-life situation, whereas a reading requires more imagination but can delve deeper into the issue at hand. 

Semester 2

Unit 1: Futurism, Dadaism, Oh My!

One obstacle I encountered when considering how to complete this exercise was that most of the fluxuses required objects (most of which were not immediately available). I inadvertently completed one exercise near the top—this one read “This sentence should not be read by more than one person at the same time.” Because I read the sentence alone, I successfully completed the exercise (despite it being inadvertent). This exercise was particularly interesting because it only required one choice: to complete the homework for Humes (which included reading this sentence) alone. There was no choice directly involved in completing this task, just a preliminary choice that ultimately resulted in the task being completed. I think this is very pertinent to the ideas we have discussed in class over the past week, especially the idea of Dadaism. “Dada means nothing–” the fluxus that I performed was, in this sense, Dada. 

What I noticed about the tasks overall is that the body is foregrounded in the sense that it is a common requirement to complete all the fluxuses, but most of the fluxuses have additional requirements in the form of objects, setting, or other people. The body is often metamorphosed because it becomes an instrument to complete the task, and in this way, it is also effaced, because it is objectified (another relationship to Foucault). In fact, every fluxus performance is, in some way, transformational: the body becomes an instrument in order to convey a message, whether that message is built into the performance or is simply the inherent message in fluxus. And that message is, of course, the most important: the overarching concept behind fluxus that challenges our human perception of what is important and what can be considered beautiful. Fluxus is, of course, the ultimate purveyor of subjectivity, and it is intended to be this way. 

Unit 2: Timeline or Chronology

1780 – Maxwell Chambers born in Salisbury

1784 – Chambers’ father dies

1820 – Chambers returns to Salisbury after being in Charleston, lends money and obtains property

1854 – Chambers frees 19 enslaved persons

Feb 7, 1855 – Chambers dies and leaves $250,000 to Davidson College in his will

Aug 7, 1855 – Meeting of the board of trustees at Davidson college to address Chambers’ heirs’ decision to sue

Nov 1855 – Rebecca M. Caldwell, half sister of Chambers, dies

June 26, 1856 – Meeting of the Davidson board of trustees

1857 – Enslaved persons who were required to work at the Rowan Factory are freed

1860 – Chambers building completed and named after Maxwell Chambers

Nov 2, 1861 – Davidson college trustees sell the Rowan Factory

July 15, 1862 – Davidson college trustees noted Sale of property was to Confederate officials – was used as a prison

1866 – Life of Salisbury commandant spared at trial

1921 – Chambers building burns

1930 – New Chambers building finished

I had no knowledge of Maxwell Chambers’ life or will prior to this reading besides the fact that he did own enslaved persons during his life. All of the other information in the reading was new to me. Perhaps the most important part of the reading was the acknowledgement that while Chambers did free 19 enslaved persons prior to his death and freed more in his will, the vast majority of people that he owned were not freed following his death. I also found it interesting that Chambers’ heirs decided to sue Davidson college after a massive sum of money was left to the school in his will.

The most apparent gap in my timeline is the time between 1866 and 1921. I believe this is because activities directly related to Chambers himself continued for the decade after his death, and then subsided until the building named after him burned in 1921. A more relevant gap was between Chambers’ return to Salisbury in 1820 and his freeing of 19 enslaved persons in 1954. This gap is likely because the article focused primarily on Chambers’ death and will and less on his actual life. It would be useful to write a continued version of this chronology, including events through the present day relating to the Chambers building. Perhaps additional discoveries would come to light in an in-depth study of the history of the building. 

I do wish I knew more about Chambers’ actions during his life, but this reading provided an interesting history of his connections with Davidson and why knowledge of his interactions with the school are important.

Unit 3: Discussing the Undiscussable

I disagree with much of Arlene Croce’s review of STILL/HERE. Croce argues that the work is inappropriate because it uses victimhood as an art spectacle. She did not attend the show, however, despite thinking herself fit to write a piece criticizing it, because she does not believe she can review somebody she feels “sorry for or hopeless about.” I don’t believe it’s right to attempt to review something without experiencing it. Croce also argues that victim art “is a politicized version of blackmail that certain performers resort to, even great performers” (Croce 55). I see why Croce believes this but I disagree—Jones is not creating “victim art,” rather he is bringing out voices and giving opportunities to those with terminal illnesses to share their experience via an art form. If what he is creating is, however, considered victim art, this art form is not a “politicized version of blackmail.” It is a statement, a call for change expressed through a group of people. 

For me, the role of art is to provoke feelings in viewers or experiencers. While I don’t find myself fully appreciating some forms of modern and postmodern art, such as the white painting phenomenon, I can experience feelings from a lot of different things considered “art.” This is a difficult definition because it requires a line to be drawn—one that I cannot draw because everything causes us to feel things. That’s the beauty of art: it is undefinable, it is to be experienced by people and they can determine what they think of it. In this way, I think that nothing is undiscussable in the world of art. The idea of art should serve as a vehicle through which anything can be expressed, and STILL/HERE is an excellent example of this ideology. 

Works Cited

Boal, Augusto. Theater of the Oppressed. Pluto Press, 1979.

Chiang, Ted. The Lifecycle of Software Objects. Burton, MI, Subterranean Press, 2010.

Croce, Arlene. “Discussing the Undiscussable.” The New Yorker, 26 Dec. 1994.

Du Bois, W. E. B. (William Edward Burghardt), 1868-1963. The Souls of Black Folk; Essays and Sketches. Chicago, A. G. McClurg, 1903. New York :Johnson Reprint Corp., 1968.

The Small Things Matter

In my portfolio conversation with Dr. Bory, I expressed frustration with this assignment. It’s so open ended, I was lost. My working theme, she said, could provide direction for my writing. After sharing my theme, she mentioned a book that could be of use–The Book of (More) Delights by Ross Gay. I purchased the book on Kindle and looked through some of the essays. Each essay presented a small experience from Gay’s life in a refreshingly positive light. The experiences, which would probably be thought of as inconsequential, all felt warm and entirely important. I thought about my own experiences–what in my life could make the cut as a “delight?”  

But I was missing the point. Gay’s delights were not warm because they were inherently extraordinary–they were normal (small) experiences that he found the beauty in. That, I think I can do. 

—

On college nights, I often found myself hungry without much access to food on campus. A few nights ago, I encountered this situation. Fortunately, a dorm hall of growing humans usually contains several hungry people, so a hallmate with a car on campus agreed to drive to the Cookout Drive-thru on the condition that I join him. A few others threw in orders and we left. 

The air outside Richardson hall was cold, so we broke into a jog, and then a sprint across campus until we reached his car. It was after midnight so nobody was there to judge how stupid we looked sprinting past commons and across the field. 

As we neared Cookout, we scanned the town of Davidson for cops. My friend wasn’t speeding, but we looked nonetheless. As we pulled into the drive-thru, an overwhelming sense of freedom washed over me. I was riding in a car to buy food and then would return to campus to work until the early morning. There was something beautiful about that. I’m sure this is a feeling many college first-years get, or just adolescents, but it was delightful. 

And while this experience was probably not an exclusive one, it gave me meaning, however short lived. I can’t describe this feeling of purpose I got from driving to get greasy fast food on a weeknight. Writing it, it sounds so stupid, so trivial. But the beauty was there. 

And while this feeling faded, a bite of my burger revived it, however slightly. This, to me, is humanity: finding meaning and beauty in life, however small. 

—

Something that I enjoy doing when in the presence of buildings (especially in my hometown of Washington D.C.) is categorizing columns. In sixth grade, during our ancient Greece unit, we learned about Greek architecture. Included in this study was a short lesson on columns: doric, ionic, and corinthian.

The columns could be differentiated by the degree of ornament present at base and at top. Doric columns had no personality. The tops were square or something; I didn’t pay much attention to them. Corinthian columns were highly ornamental, covered with stone flourishes and chiseled greenery. They were nice, but a bit gaudy, I thought. Ionic columns, however, were perfect. They were the goldilocks column–not too dull, not too decorative. Their characteristic stone spirals were wonderful to the eye. 

Since sixth grade, I always identify the columns I see in my head. I’m always a bit happier when I see those iconic (or ionic) stone curls. My younger sister, who attended the same school (which evidently kept the curriculum the same), will sometimes join me in my identification game. 

This is a small aspect of my life, and I don’t see columns that often. But when I do, my life feels just a little more meaningful. It is a delightful reminder of my childhood, of my fascination with ancient Greece and Greek mythology. 

—

One of the most emotional delights that I encounter very infrequently is the smells of my past. Sometimes, as I move through the world, my nose will pick up a scent that instantly brings me back to another time, another place. It’s funny how smell is so closely linked to memory. 

This happened to me once in eighth grade. I remember it well. My class was walking down a sidewalk near our school when I was hit with the scent of a family friend’s house in Massachusetts. I hadn’t smelled it in years. My family tells me that their house smelled of mothballs, so perhaps that is what my nostrils were encountering. 

Regardless of the smell itself, it was delightful to be transported back in time so swiftly. I returned to my childhood in these few seconds. As life moves forward, memories fade. But smell has the ability to bring back vivid emotions that you would not otherwise experience again. 

—

These three essays are little things that came into my mind while I was pondering this assignment. There are many more. Through these little things, I have been able to find meaning. It’s an outlook that I strive towards instead of negativity. Now, I’m going to finish The Book of (More) Delights and think more about what I have to appreciate. 

Works Cited

Gay, Ross. The Book of (More) Delights. Algonquin, 2023.

“Go and Don’t Be Afraid: Perestroika and the Soviet Jewish Future” was a lecture on Soviet Jews between 1988 and 1989 offered by Stanford graduate student Joshua Tapper. The lecture explained efforts to recover a sense of Jewish identity and culture during those years in the Soviet Union. The presentation started with a metaphor: the final scene of a documentary called The Jewish Cemetery in which a man named Spector wanders alone through an airport terminal. While the stereotype of the time was a mass desire of Soviet Jews to emigrate, Tapper argued that Spector, who moved back to Moscow, represented a significant portion of the Soviet-Jewish population who stayed in the USSR. He represented a shift of narrative from doubt and hopelessness within the country to one of optimism and hope. 

Tapper went on to discuss the state of the Soviet Jewry movement, centered around the idea that fully realizing Jewish potential could only occur outside the confines of the Soviet Union. While the desire to leave the Soviet Union following years of persecution was obviously present, Spector decided to stay because he saw himself as the future of a new national community: one of possibility and agency. Tapper also discussed the beginnings of Perestroika, the reformation of the soviet economic system, which emerged through grassroots Jewish activism. Soviet Jews made an effort to change the “politics of rescue” that were common at the time to a politics of rebuilding—instead of the philanthropic movement that many Jewish activists saw as paternalistic, Soviet Jews believed they could rebuild their culture and identity from within.

A character that emerged several times in Tapper’s talk was Mikhail Chlenov, a visionary of Jewish life in the USSR and one of the main opponents to the philanthropic movement. Chlenov was the founder of the Jewish Cultural Association, which became a vehicle for change during this several year period in the Soviet Union. At the end of his talk, Tapper referenced the work of a Jewish poet which appeared in the first editorially independent Jewish newspaper called The Dawn. The poem was a call for communal solidarity and action for both the local and global Jewish diaspora. 

Joshua Tapper had a few clear goals in his talk. The first (and most obvious) was to make a positive impression on listeners, as he is a grad student seeking a role in the Russian studies department at Davidson. He was successful in this regard: he was poised and knowledgeable, and offered most of the information in an understandable manner (though admittedly some of the more complex concepts did go over my head). His other purpose was to present his passion project to a group of people who volunteered to come to his talk. His research is niche, and because of the relatively unknown nature of some of the information he presented, he was eager to bring it to a new group of people. In this regard, he was successful, as his presentation was a cornucopia of information about his dissertation. 

From my own perspective, I believe that Joshua Tapper’s talk was interesting and informative, if complex. I am half Jewish (my great grandparents were Jews who immigrated from Ukraine due to pogroms in their town). Albeit at a much later date, the Soviet Jewish movement is of interest to me, as I feel like it is relevant to my own heritage. Prior to this talk, I had no knowledge whatsoever of the topic, so it was a great introduction to something which I believe Tapper could have taught a yearlong class on. This lecture was an opportunity to learn about something I otherwise would not have, and I hope to attend more like this at Davidson in the future. 

Ballet Hispánico at Davidson College was a four-act ballet in Duke Family Performance hall. The organization’s mission is to bring people together around experimental forms of ballet that celebrate Latino culture. Clearly, Ballet Hispánico at Davidson College was intended to provide entertainment to students, faculty and staff, and community members, as well as to spread the art to those who might not otherwise have the opportunity to experience it. Because of the intriguing mission, I was hopeful going into the performance, anticipating an engaging experience that was different from anything I had seen before. After the performance, it was clear that I had viewed four love stories, each through a different lens.

The theater was full as I entered, community families and students alike sitting in anticipation of the upcoming performance. Ominous music faded in as the lights dimmed. Two dancers emerged with abrupt bodily movements and black costumes, extremes in both movement and color. The music also verged on the extreme, incorporating hydraulic noises. The dancers spun, becoming closer, accelerating as the noise grew, then moving apart. Finally, the couple converged in the center of the stage and the curtain dropped before the theater lights turned on, interrupting the immersion. The first act felt like a story of young love: adrenaline-inducing and exciting, yet fleeting. 

After several minutes, the lights dimmed once again and the curtain was raised to reveal a woman in a long red dress. Her body became an axis as her arms rotated around it in subdued, flowing movements. The silence and darkness in the theater created an attention vacuum, the illuminated dress the sole magnet. Guitar music played and four men in red entered, trading the female dancer between themselves, tugging on her dress with desire. Suddenly, the men seized her fans and the light became crimson. Then dancers entered in unison with leaps and graceful strides. The pace of the act continued to fluctuate with frequent changes in lighting and music and bodily movements until the dancers fell to the ground. It’s over. Their heads fell with the curtain. This story felt like one of grappling with different loves. Undertones of polyamory were present and the relationships felt unstable.

As the curtain rose on the third act, several elements stood out, especially in contrast with the previous act: first, the smoke that engulfed the unwavering bodies on the stage; second, the heavy use of clothing that juxtaposed the lack of it in the previous act. A woman stood center stage while the other dancers surrounded her on the ground. Dancers emerged and replaced her clothing with a nun’s robe, and she became a planet as the other dancers were pulled into her orbit. Then she was left alone. Slowly, each dancer entered in colorful costume and orbited the main dancer before falling to the ground and occupying their original positions. She loomed over them. This act felt like a war story between the main dancer and her religion, her family, perhaps her sexuality, and loneliness. While the previous two acts felt lighthearted at points, this act was a tragedy throughout. 

The final act was a whirlwind. The curtain rose to reveal a man smoking a cigar while a woman danced in the foreground. Purple light and lively music gave the stage a playful ambiance. The clothing looked similar to that of a traditional club; suitable for dancing and flirting. Couples danced with one another, provoking cries from the audience. For the final minutes of the act, a disco ball dropped from the ceiling, casting reflections about the theater that brought the audience into the environment already developed on the stage. This act felt like an upbeat and scandalous club scene with multiple couples having fun. It was refreshing after the previous act, and ended the performance on a positive note. 

The organizers of the event and the members of Ballet Hispánico were undoubtedly successful in their goal of bringing this art form to a group of young humans. I was not handed a program prior to the event so I did not have access to descriptions of the individual acts. I therefore viewed each act as something for me to interpret, to try and decipher the story behind the movements happening on stage. Of course, there are intended stories behind each of these acts, but without knowledge of those, human nature led me to try and interpret what I witnessed. I felt as if I was able to decipher a story from each of the Ballet Hispánico acts perfectly, which indicates the Ballet’s success. I also enjoyed the storytelling aspect of the performance. Ballet Hispánico at Davidson was an enlightening experience that nudged me out of my comfort zone and has encouraged further exploration into both this specific art form and other unfamiliar (to me) performances that Davidson may offer in the future. 

Humanities vs. humanities: What’s the Difference?

The Humanities is an area of study that explores the nature of being human. What does being a human entail? Davidson’s Humes course offers a dive into this question via a multidisciplinary approach that strives to address each major aspect of the human. Strengthening one’s understanding of the mind, the body, and the spirit, as well as an exploration of broader societal themes such as utopia and dystopia, contributes to a deeper understanding of the state of being human. Being human does not have a single definition. Rather, it is defined by infinite factors within (and some outside of) the three units. 

In the first unit, we discussed the Turing Test, the Voight-Kamph test, and other investigations into whether a machine is intelligent (Robb). We then learned about similar concepts—namely, the bodily response theory and the judgment theory—that seek to answer whether machines can feel. These tests ultimately sought to define humanity by identifying factors that make us not human. In the second unit, we explored the possibilities of the body through physical exercises. We wrote about our experiences during these plenary sessions—some of my own observations included “my body is made to complete tasks, engage with others, stay alive,” and “my body has feelings—pain, fatigue, comfort, embarrassment, strength, anger” (Bory). The body unit did not seek to define humanity via comparison, but instead defined it through a thorough process of documenting its abilities and possibilities. In the third unit, we discussed the less physical aspects of our humanity. We discussed the spirit through the lens of church practice, pentecostalism, and black spirituals (Pyle). This unit defined humanity through media that depicted the black experience in America—in order to continue defining humanity, we looked at the dehumanization of a people by another people. Each unit sought to expose different aspects of what makes us human: the first through comparing humans to technology, the second through our abilities, and the final through experiences of racism and dehumanization. 

The second semester expanded our definition of Humanities with broad societal concepts like utopias, apocalypse, and the future. A theme emerged in the lectures and assigned readings: a recognition of a systemic problem, and an urge to reject the past in order to construct a fresh, just society. One of the first lectures of the semester introduced the Communist Manifesto, which set the tone for a semester largely based on manifestos as a vehicle for change. A focus on dance early in the semester allowed for a connection between the physical body and the need for change. Concepts found in Tristan Tzara’s “Dada Manifesto” among similar pieces established a desire to move forward and anti-institution sentiments (Pyle). A look at Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground began our examination of those “othered” by society (Ewington). This theme continued in David Wojnarowicz’s Seven Miles a Second, which described the experience of living in New York City with AIDs in the 1980s. This unit continued into the Act Up protest movement of the same time period, in which people came together in choreographies of protest to call for change. Humanities, then, is not only defined by individual concepts like mind, body, and spirit, but also holds implications about broader society in its definition. Humans are social creatures, and a human history is defined by change that we create. Humanities is the study of the human, but also the study of change; the study of protests, and manifestos, and movements that urge our species to continue moving forward and bettering ourselves.  

Lowercase humanities, however, is not as easily explored. This term does not refer to a study—rather, it refers to what makes us feel human: the struggle to find meaning. I believe that this term cannot be confined to a stereotypical “definition.” We find meaning in emotion—in joy, in melancholy, in pure, unbounded love. We find meaning in struggle, in goal setting, in fighting for justice. We find meaning in enjoying food, or lying under trees. Being human is defined by an underlying desire to find meaning. For me, I believe that meaning can be found in the small things in life. With the right outlook, each little experience, each inconsequential moment, can become something beautiful. Dr. Boyer’s lecture on December 5 told a story of a friend whose meaning was shattered by the death of a close friend on 9/11. This person tried to find meaning in the coming years (Boyer). The lecture on October 17th discussed theater, a method of finding societal meaning through acting (Green). A guiding question at the beginning of our Spirit unit was “How does religion work to de-mechanize bodies and liberate people” (Wills). This question addresses people who are able to find liberation and meaning through religion. Dr. Boyer’s lecture at the end of the course mentioned our eternal struggle to “burn with a gemlike flame”—this pursuit, ultimately, encapsulates humanities (Boyer). Our lives are spent trying constantly to better ourselves in every sense of the phrase: through interests, through suffering, through love. These pursuits; our human endeavors to find meaning, are what define humanities. Each plenary included not only studies in the Humanities, but also in humanity, in feeling, in emotion

The Humanities is a study; it is a class and a department that explores the state of being human. humanities are different—they are internal; they are the undefinable forces that make us who we are. I believe that humanities are defined by our pursuit as individuals and as the human race to find meaning in our own lives and with this collective life that we share. Uppercase Humanities, as an area of study, can help us consider the implications of our existence, or our lowercase humanities. 

Works Cited

Bory, Alison. “Plenary” Hum-103, 5 October 2023, Davidson College, Union 900 Room. Lecture.

Boyer, Patricio. “Plenary” Hum-103, 5 December 2023, Davidson College, Tyler-Tallman Hall. Lecture.

Boyer, Patricio. “Plenary” Hum-104, 25 April 2024, Davidson College, Hance Auditorium. Lecture.

Ewington, Amanda. “Plenary” Hum-104, 6 February 2024, Davidson College, Hance Auditorium. Lecture.

Green, Sharon. “Plenary” Hum-103, 17 October 2023, Davidson College, Tyler-Tallman Hall. Lecture.

Pyle, Marcus. “Plenary” Hum-103, 16 November 2023, Davidson College, Tyler-Tallman Hall. Lecture.

Pyle, Marcus. “Plenary” Hum-104, 30 January 2024, Davidson College, Hance Auditorium. Lecture.

Robb, David. “Plenary” Hum-103, 29 August 2023, Davidson College, Tyler-Tallman Hall. Lecture.

Wills, Anne. “Plenary” Hum-103, 31 October 2023, Davidson College, Tyler-Tallman Hall. Lecture.

Semester 1

Cyborg

In her 1985 work “A Manifesto for Cyborgs: Science, Technology, and Socialist Feminism in the 1980s” Donna Haraway defines cyborg as “a cybernetic organism, a hybrid of machine and organism, a creature of social reality as well as a creature of fiction” (Haraway 1). Haraway’s cyborg is a vehicle through which the confines of society can be brought down and a new reality can be born, free of oppression. Literally, the cyborg is the incorporation of machine into a human body in order to enhance the capabilities of the human. Haraway proposes that this incorporation will tear down the concept of gender altogether in order to form a cyborg “species” that is neither capable of oppressing nor being oppressed. 

The cyborg is also mentioned in Grant Morrison’s comic strip WE3, though the term is reduced to “biorg” to refer to the robot-animals in the comic. Morrison expands the definition of cyborg (though the word is slightly abbreviated) because it describes animals enhanced by technology instead of humans. The biorgs, who are all domesticated animals, have the sole purpose of killing. The return of these domesticated animals to their original killer instincts indicates an ironic loss of evolutionary progress. When they escape their human captors they use their enhancements to secure their freedom as nature’s organisms. 

Patternism

Patternism is mentioned throughout Susan Schneider’s essay “Getting a Mindscan.” Schneider defines patternism as “as long as person A has the same computational configuration as person B, A and B are the same person” (Schneider 84). This definition is used in relation to the concept of “uploading” oneself, or uploading one’s mind into a computer system that will allow a copy of the person’s consciousness to be duplicated into an android body. However, a patternist paradox emerges in this example: while patternism would hold that the copy of the person is the same person, there can only truly be one person. So the person whose mind is duplicated into an android will emerge from the duplication as themselves, and the duplicate will emerge with the same mind and experiences, but in a different body. 

Schneider then claims that a person’s pattern is a necessary aspect of their identity, but not sufficient to determine an identity, as duplicates share a pattern but are not the original person. The addition of “spatiotemporal continuity” (Schneider 86) into this equation, in combination with a person’s pattern, she argues, would form a complete identity. So pattern is one of two defining aspects of a human identity, but is not by itself able to define a human identity. In this way, patternism is a concept that straddles the line between humanity and inhumanity. 

Transhumanist

Susan Schneider’s “Could You Merge With AI?” describes transhumanists as aiming to “redesign the human condition, striving for immortality and synthetic intelligence, all in hopes of improving our overall quality of life” (Schneider 73). Essentially, transhumanists are humans who are optimistic about the viability of introducing modern technology into the human in order to create an enhanced human. Schneider also mentions disagreements within the transhumanist ingroup—primarily that some think the singularity (the overtaking of artificial intelligence to organic intelligence) will occur soon, while others believe progress will not be so rapid.

Another essay by Schneider, “Getting a Mindscan,” also mentions the concept of transhumanists. In this excerpt, Schneider claims that “without a firm handle on [the issue of patterns], the transhumanist developmental trajectory is, for all we know, a technophile’s alluring path to suicide” (Schneider 90). Here, Schneider makes the claim that if a transhumanist has not considered the implications of patternism, it may lead to their destruction. So transhumanism can be dangerous if the concept is not thoroughly considered before it is pursued. 

Digient

“Digient” is a term used throughout Ted Chiang’s story The Lifestyle of Software Objects. Digients are defined as “digital organisms that live in environments like data earth” (Chiang 64). Data earth is a digital world that can be accessed by humans via virtual-reality headsets. A moral dilemma arises when readers learn more about digients: the digital beings are considered conscious, and their ability to learn and grow indicates an intelligence similar to that of a human child. The question then arises, “what differentiates digients and human children?” Despite the fact that they are digital beings, they have consciousness, can make decisions, and can experience negative feelings. 

While digients are the brainchild of Chiang, they relate closely to ideas seen throughout the mind unit, most closely to the notion of “uploading” oneself discussed by Susan Schneider. This idea further complicates the digient moral dilemma because with the ability to upload their consciousness, the copy of a human present in the digital world is essentially no different from a digient. This dilemma is only further complicated when Ana, the main character of the story, plants her digient’s consciousness in a physical android body. 

Body

A broad and sweeping term, “body” was a key word of several readings assigned during the body unit. These readings viewed the term through vastly different lenses. Ben Spatz’s “What a Body Can Do” explored the abilities of the human body. The reading offered a list of abilities that makes up a sort of definition of the body by showing readers what a human body is capable of. This list included “a body can do the Charleston,” “a body can conform,” “a body can undo,” “a body can sing an old Jewish folk song” (Spatz 3), and other somewhat random abilities. Spatz’s article does not glorify the human body, but rather provides a framework through which we can understand it. This framework is built on positives: things the body can do.

Michel Foucault’s “Docile Bodies” also provides a framework through which we can understand the body, though it is vastly different from Spatz’s. “Docile Bodies” discusses the body as a malleable tool; as something that can be shaped to accomplish certain tasks. Foucault claims that “the classical age discovered the body as an object and target of power” (Foucault 136). According to Foucault, the definition of the body must include the ability to be used.

Augusto Boal, in Theatre of the Oppressed, says “we can begin by stating that the first word of the theatrical vocabulary is the human body, the main source of sound and movement” (Boal 125). Controlling one’s body is essential to the production of good theater, and via Boal, to the poetics of the oppressed (see below definition). Here, the body can be seen as a starting point to the societal change that can occur under the influence of the poetics of the oppressed. 

All three sources explore the possibilities of the body: as an agent of doing, as a tool to be molded, and as a changemaker. 

Spectator-actor

Augusto Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed introduced the term “Spectator-actor,” which refers to a person whose status is as both an actor and a spectator at once. Boal explains the importance of the spectator-actor: “The walls must be torn down… the spectator starts acting again” (Boal 120). By walls, Boal is referring to the barriers raised between actor and spectator that represent larger societal constructs. He explains this concept further: “To understand the poetics of the oppressed, one must keep in mind its main objective: to change the people—‘spectators,’ passive beings in the theatrical phenomenon—into subjects, into actors, transformers of the dramatic action” (Boal 122). By changing the spectator into a spectator-actor, the person is transformed into a vehicle for change and societal reconstruction. 

Boal continues his definition with a claim: “The theater is a weapon, and it is the people who should wield it” (Boal 122). If the theater is run by the bourgeoisie, it can be used to depict whatever the ruling class would like; it can be used to influence public opinion and to quell the people. Boal conducted an exercise in which people acted out situations and made decisions that ultimately resulted in a change of their microcosmic society being played on stage. After these exercises, these people could carry their status as spectator-actors into the real world and cause legitimate societal change. 

Consciousness

The idea of consciousness emerged throughout the first semester of humes. It was prevalent especially in the mind and spirit units, in which it was defined in many different ways. In the mind unit, the idea of consciousness was associated with humanity. This connection first emerges in Amy Kind’s Philosophy of the Mind: The Basics when she discusses what criteria determines consciousness. She discusses the Turing test, a method for determining whether a machine can think that involves testing whether a human can distinguish a machine’s responses from those of a human. However, she offers an objection to this test: the argument from consciousness. This argument holds that “to be a thinker, it’s not enough for a system simply to behave as if it’s thinking. It matters what’s going on inside.” (Kind 105). Turing rejects this theory with the claim that by this logic, we would have to commit to solipsism because just as we cannot know what is going on inside machines, we cannot know what happens inside fellow humans. Another criterion offered for determining consciousness is by Susan Schneider, who suggests that we determine whether “machines have developed views of [their] own about consciousness” (Schneider 106). 

While much of the mind unit revolved around the idea of consciousness and what determines whether a being (or machine) is conscious, the term appeared once again in the spirit unit in the notion of “double-consciousness” proposed by W.E.B. Du Bois in The Souls of Black Folk. He defines double consciousness as “this sense of always looking at oneself through the eyes of others… One ever feels his two-ness,—an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder” (Du Bois 38). Du Bois brings an entirely different lens to the definition of consciousness: one of the oppressed. The consciousness of Black Americans is split between their own self-consciousness and society’s view of them, looking inwards. Du Bois emphasizes that a single consciousness is a privilege.

Whiteness

“Whiteness” is a term mentioned throughout the spirit unit. Ashton Crawley, in his introduction to Black Pentecostal Breath: The Aesthetics of Possibility defines whiteness as “a way to think the world; it has its theological and philosophical resonances and employments; it has its theological and philosophical emplotments. It is a violent encounter, an encounter and way of life that is fundamentally about the interdiction, the desired theft, of the capacity to breathe” (Crawley 6). Whiteness is about acceptance of a way of life that includes violence, that includes the desire to seize “the capacity to breathe” from those who do not subscribe to this lifestyle. The definition of whiteness is not limited to a color of skin, but is expanded to a mindset that limits the ability of non-white Americans.

The condition of being white is also discussed in W.E.B. Du Bois’ The Souls of Black Folk, in which he says of the African-American “he would not bleach his Negro soul in a flood of white Americanism, for he knows that his Negro blood has a message for the world” (Du Bois 39). Du Bois recognises white Americanism as a mindset, similar to whiteness, that places whites in societal power and makes upwards movement impossible for Black Americans. The message, Du Bois argues, is that the Black man desires the solace of being both Black and American at the same time, of merging this double-consciousness (see above definition) into one. 

Semester 2

Utopia

In her book Utopia in Performance, Jill Dolan states “the word utopia means, literally, ‘no place,’ and this book respects the letter of its sense by refusing to pin it down to prescription” (Dolan 7). Dolan’s argument is that through performance, we can depict these ideal “no places” in order to stimulate a people to work towards something. “Utopian performatives,” claims Dolan, “spring from a complex alchemy of form and content, context and location, which take shape in moments of utopia as doings, as process, as never finished gestures toward a potentially better future” (Dolan 8). While utopia does not actually exist, it is comparable to a concept like infinity—it is something that can be worked with, a useful concept that can help us, via performance, to realize a more perfect tomorrow. 

José Esteban Muñoz’s Cruising Utopia examines the concept of utopia through a different lens. Muñoz makes a critical distinction between two different types of utopia: abstract and concrete. He writes that abstract utopias “are untethered from any historical consciousness” (Muñoz 3). Concrete utopias, however, “are relational to historically situated struggles, a collectivity that is actualized or potential” (Muñoz 3). While abstract utopias are, in Muñoz’s mind, a mere daydream, concrete utopias are rooted in history and are feasible. Muñoz’s definitions of these two utopias are compatible with Dolan’s idea of the word, as he would argue that her utopias through performance must be concrete in order to be effective. 

Futurism

In the conclusions section of his The Art of Noises: Futurist Manifesto, Luigi Russolo claims that “Futurist musicians should substitute for the limited variety of timbres that the orchestra possesses today the infinite variety of timbres in noises, reproduced with appropriate mechanisms” (Russolo 28). The ideals of futurism are infused in this sentence. It is a movement departing from the traditional, an embracing of the avant-garde and both the ordinary and strange as an art form. Russolo, a major proponent of futurism, embraced the movement by advocating for unorganized music—music composed of, for example, “gurgling,” “noises obtained by beating on pottery,” and “death rattles” (Russolo 28). 

A Slap in the Face of Public Taste is a Russian futurist manifesto which urges readers to “Throw Pushkin, Dostoevskii, Tolstoi, etc., etc. overboard from the Ship of Modernity” (Mayakovsky et. al. 1). The three names mentioned all represent the traditional, which the authors implore readers not just to abandon, but to actively reject. By definition, futurism requires a total rejection of tradition and a transition into a new, futurist world. The word is closely intertwined with other activist terms like Afro-Pessimism because it requires outright rejection of the past in order to effectively move forward. 

Afrofuturism

The term “Afrofuturism” emerges in Mark Dery’s Black to the Future, which states that “speculative fiction that treats African-American themes and addresses African-American concerns in the context of twentieth century technoculture… might, for want of a better term, be called ‘Afrofuturism’” (Dery 180). The juxtaposition of traditional African American culture with a concept of the future conveys a message about blackness going forward; it functioned (and still functions) as a symbol of hope and an ideal to work towards for black citizens of America dissatisfied with a system built upon a racial hierarchy. 

In a 2019 Smithsonian panel with several influential Afrofuturist figures, Vernon Reid explained his love for the moon landing as a child. He expressed his disagreement with those who argued that there were too many problems on earth to be spending so much on space exploration: “I heard a lot of adults complaining, you know, ‘we got problems here on earth, why are they sending people up to the moon,’ and I was like, because we got to go” (Reid 35:35-35:43). This quote defines Afrofuturism perfectly. Racism isn’t a mere problem in America, it is the very cornerstone upon which the nation was built. There is no fixing the foundation—instead, as represented by space travel, we must leave and start anew in order to establish an ideal future for black people. Because of the brokenness of today’s society, a completely reimagined future is necessary for many black artists to express themselves fully. 

Manifesto

“Manifestos” by Julia Foulkes describes a series of dance manifestos that altered the course of the American dance scene. A theme emerged in the manifestos that she mentioned: a desire to move forwards, and a rejection of that which had already been done. Through manifestos, she argued, “modern dancers moved on to establish new roles for themselves in the arts and in society” (Foulkes 26). Clearly, Foulkes’s definition of Manifesto is some recording of ideas powerful enough that it can cause major change in a specific field or movement.

Tristan Tzara’s “Dada Manifesto” is somewhat meta in that it, despite being a manifesto, explains the author’s distaste for manifestos. He states that “in principle I am against manifestoes, as I am also against principles… I write this manifesto to show that people can perform contrary actions together while taking one fresh gulp of air; I am against action; for continuous contradiction…” (Tzara 1). Tzara uses the word manifesto to convey that he is embracing contradiction, which is a characteristic of Dadaism. Despite disagreeing with the principle of manifestos, he is able to acknowledge his distaste for them while also using the form to advertise his proposed artistic movement. 

Afro-Pessimism

Jared Sexton’s Afro-Pessimism: The Unclear Word attempts to explain the difficult-to-understand term. The article defines the term with a list: it is “a negative appraisal of the capabilities of black peoples, associating blackness with lack rather than tracing the machinations through which the association is drawn and enforced… a myopic denial of overlapping and ongoing histories of struggle and a fatal misunderstanding of the operational dynamics of power…” (Sexton 2). The definition continues, explaining how afro-pessimism represents not only “associating blackness with lack” but also a society built upon heteronormativity. It represents, then, problems with the system: both systemic racism and sexism; a society built upon that perception of people of color as somehow lesser by default. 

Muñoz’s Cruising Utopia, while it does not explain Afro-Pessimism, addresses the aspect of the word associated with heteronormativity or societal homophobia. Cruising Utopia’s thesis states that “queerness is essentially about the rejection of a here and now and an insistence on potentiality or concrete possibility for another world” (Muñoz 1). Closely related to concepts of both Afro-Pessimism and Afro-futurism, this thesis expresses a dissatisfaction with the state of the world and insists that society must be overhauled completely to achieve an absence of homophobia or systemic racism or Afro-Pessimism. 

AIDs

David Wojnarowicz and James Romberger’s comic book Seven Miles a Second itself could be considered an all-encompassing definition of AIDs. A quotation from the book, however, seems to encapsulate Wojnarowicz’s feelings about AIDs perfectly: “I’m carrying the rage like a blood-filled egg… and as each t-cell disappears from my body it’s replaced by ten pounds of pressure ten pounds of rage and I focus that rage into nonviolent resistance but that focus is starting to slip my hands are beginning to move independently and the egg is starting to crack…” (Wojnarowicz 44). AIDs is not just a disease, it is a societal symbol for ostracization, it is the literal bodily manifestation of otherness. This quotation connects the literal physical consequences of AIDs as a disease to those larger social implications. It is not just a symbol, though. AIDs represents a transformation, a new understanding of the world. It is terrible, it destroys the body, and at the same time, it inspires new power within Wojnarowicz. 

Choreographer Bill T. Jones’s performance Still/Here aims to bring to light stories of people living with life threatening illnesses. Jones asks participants to think of the lows and highs of their lives, and asks them to imagine their own death. Dancer Jay, when asked about his fears, answers “I fear the loss of my friends to AIDs… I fear that I will be the last to die” (Jones 9:47-10:02). Jay’s definition of AIDs seems common among those living with the disease: fear. Depictions of fear emerged throughout Seven Miles a Second as well—though in both Still/Here and the comic, the fear associated with AIDs was usually fear for others. AIDs, then, represents not only a network of fear but also a network of understanding that can only be achieved through mutual struggle. 

Choreography

Isadora Duncan’s definition of choreography is traditional, yet futurist in a sense. In her 1927 manifesto “Vision of America Dancing” she writes of a dance in her imagination “it [was] the living leap of the child springing toward the heights, towards its future accomplishment, towards a new great vision of life that would express America” (Duncan 198). Duncan defines choreography as dance, as a way of moving the body to express beauty that would mirror America’s progress and achievement. Her definition, however, is woefully racist—she believed that Jazz rhythm was unrepresentative of America, that it expressed “the primitive savage” (Duncan 198). 

Susan Leigh Foster’s “Choreographies of Protest” described a very different definition of choreography. This piece provides the history of several notable protest movements that involved the use of the body in a significant way. These included the 1980s Act Up movement and the 1960 Greensboro sit-in, among others. Each of these movements involved a type of choreography: the former included die-ins in which participants lay on the ground, while the latter required placing one’s body in danger by refusing to move from a lunch counter. Foster’s definition of choreography is not centered around aesthetic but rather physical manifestations of a call for change. Both definitions, however, are rooted in futurist ideas. 

Dadaism

Tristan Tzara’s 1918 Dada Manifesto is itself a work of Dadaism. Tzara begins his argument with the statement “Dada means nothing” (Tzara 1). Anything, Tzara argues, can be Dada. The word itself holds no inherent meaning; it can be applied to anything in existence. Tzara poses a question: “How can one expect to put order into the chaos that constitutes that infinite and shapeless variation: man?” (Tzara 1). Humanity constitutes chaos, and Dadaism aims to depict that chaos by virtue of representing an art form with no inherent order or meaning. Dadaists do not recognize one theory—they subscribe only to the ideas that beauty is infinitely subjective and that all previous art forms fail to capture the true nature of humanity. 

The word Fluxus is closely associated with Dadaism, and is the medium through which Humes students actively engaged with Dadaist ideas. An afternoon plenary was occupied performing Fluxuses, a concept created by George Maciunas that involves engaging everyday people in artwork through utter randomness and humor. A Fluxus entails nothing in particular: examples from plenary included running around and screaming, and untying the shoes of spectators at random. While the Fluxus movement followed Dadaism, it encapsulates many of the ideas present in both movements, especially regarding the idea of subjective beauty. 

Works Cited

Boal, Augusto. Theater of the Oppressed. Pluto Press, 1979.

Chiang, Ted. The Lifecycle of Software Objects. Burton, MI, Subterranean Press, 2010.

Crawley, Ashton T. Blackpentecostal Breath: The Aesthetics of Possibility. Fordham University Press, 2017. Accessed 5 Dec. 2023.

Doctoroff Media Group. “Bill T. Jones: Still/Here.” Login.proxy048.Nclive.org, 20 Nov. 2014, fod-infobase-com.proxy048.nclive.org/p_ViewVideo.aspx?xtid=6802. Accessed 29 Apr. 2024.

Dolan, Jill. Utopia in Performance: Finding Hope at the Theater. University of Michigan Press, 10 Nov. 2005, pp. 7–8.

Du Bois, W. E. B. (William Edward Burghardt), 1868-1963. The Souls of Black Folk; Essays and Sketches. Chicago, A. G. McClurg, 1903. New York :Johnson Reprint Corp., 1968.

Duncan, Isadora. I See America Dancing – Selected Readings, 1685-2000. University of Illinois Press, 2002.

Foster, Susan Leigh. “Choreographies of Protest.” Theatre Journal, vol. 55, no. 3, 2003, pp. 395–412. Accessed 29 Apr. 2024.

Foucault, Michel, 1926-1984. Discipline and Punish : the Birth of the Prison. New York :Pantheon Books, 1977.

Foulkes, Julia L.. Modern Bodies: Dance and American Modernism from Martha Graham to Alvin Ailey. United States, University of North Carolina Press, 2003.

Haraway, Donna. “A Manifesto for Cyborgs: Science, Technology, and Socialist Feminism in the 1980s .” The Haraway Reader, Routledge, 2004, pp. 7–45.

Kind, Amy. Philosophy of Mind: the Basics, Taylor & Francis Group, 2020. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral-proquest-com.proxy048.nclive.org/lib/davidson/detail.action?docID=6121568.

Morrison, Grant, and Frank Quitely. WE3. DC Comics, 2014. 

Muñoz, José Esteban. Cruising Utopia: The Then and There of Queer Futurity. NYU Press, 2009. Accessed 29 Apr. 2024.

Pyle, Marcus. “Plenary” Hum-103, 01 February 2024, Davidson College, Hance Auditorium. Lecture.

Russian Avantgarde – “A Slap in the Face of Public Taste”. Germany, SNZ Galeries, 2006.

Russolo, Luigi. The art of noises. New York, Pendragon Press, 1986.

Schneider, Susan. “Could You Merge With AI?” Artificial You: AI and the Future of Your Mind, Princeton University Press, 2019, pp. 72–81. Accessed 5 Dec. 2023.

Schneider, Susan. “Getting a Mindscan.” Artificial You: AI and the Future of Your Mind, Princeton University Press, 2019, pp. 82–97. Accessed 5 Dec. 2023.

Sexton, Jared. “Rhizomes: Issue 29: Jared Sexton.” Rhizomes.net, 2016, www.rhizomes.net/issue29/sexton.html.

Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. “Sonic Futures: The Music of Afrofuturism.” Www.youtube.com, 28 Dec. 2019, www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWnFnzuUIjk&ab_channel=SmithsonianNationalAirandSpaceMuseum. Accessed 29 Apr. 2024.

Spatz, Ben. What a Body can do. Routledge, 2015.

Tzara, Tristan. Dada Manifesto 1918. 23 Mar. 1918.

Wojnarowicz, David. 7 Miles a Second. N.p., Ground Zero Books, 2018.