Ask A Darkening Dawn and Datalisk

Is rape possible in cyberspace? By its very definition, one has no body, nor any real gender. So how can a sexual violation of the body take place when there is none? Either no rape has occurred, or there is some element of the crime takes place in the mind.

On the Internet, or in similar sectors of cyberspace, there is no set identity for anyone. We create who we are from the ground up. Just ask “Datalisk” or “A Darkening Dawn,” both of whom are (in some way) sitting at this keyboard right now. I can say that I have chosen these two names to be my digital avatars, one for the “typed, forum based world” and the other for the “game world.” Yet, they are not exactly Robert Tolley. The two cyber personalities exist within the mind, but they also rely upon the freedom of motion and expression of the Internet. At the same time, Robert Tolley feels the emotions and effects of the actions of both Datalisk and A Darkening Dawn. Confusing, isn’t it?

When one says that there is no crime against the characters, because they are not a part of the real world, that ignores the fact that the identities of the gamer and their character are intimately linked. I suffer the same slings and arrows that Datalisk does on the forum, and any flame sent against that personality is bound to hit me.

So is rape possible in a digital environment?

I would have to argue that it is.

Not in any sense of physical violation, that is sure. No one can reach out from the monitor and wrap their hands around your physical body. But there is something far more intimately connected to you than your body. Your mind, the very essence of “Who You Are” is being violated in this sense. If there is a part of you that is more intimate and personal than your own personality I know not of it. If the digital self is the projection of the personality into the outside world, then the violation of that self is still a violation of the self in the “Real World.”

That is one handicap of the digital world. It does not seem to happen in any one place, and the results are often left as only series of ones and zeroes somewhere on magnetic media. But the damage done to the selves is still there. Note that the noun is plural. There is definitely an effect on the “digital world” self, but there is also an impact on the “physical world” self. Violation of the digital world self may not leave physical marks on the self in the real world, but it definitely leaves psychological effects.

Looking at how the characters in the MOO reacted to “the Bungle affair,” there really isn’t much doubt that something occurred. While the digital world is undoubtedly different from the physical world, people are still the same. Since it is personalities that are projected into the ether, people are largely the same. They still want and desire prestige and a sense of community. There are also urges that cannot be acted out without consent.

That is another effect of the digital community. Digital entities can act without direct physical repercussions on the real world body. But a majority of the actions that are polite or permissible in the digital world hinge upon the idea of consenting parties. Take for example, killing and death. Entering a FPS game (a first person shooter, where the player looks out from the eyes of their character, often with the goal of killing other players for points, or some other activity requiring something similar) implies a level of consent. In a MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game), there are designated PvP (Player Vs Player) servers for many games. Entering one implies that your personality is prepared for a certain extent of combat between characters and the potential of dying in the process. At the same time, dying in these worlds is far from permanent. Generally in FPS or MMORPG games, when one dies, that is not the end of that character. Characters are respawned, or reincarnated which makes their death more of a pause in existence.

Getting an account removed, however, is a significant problem. It is analogous to dying in the real world. While the player can in effect come back and create another character, it has a different effect on the mind than “dying” in the game.

The same goes for having an account stolen (or violated, in the case of the Bungle incident). It is akin to a sort of possession, where one is not in control of their body anymore. When the mind is the body (think of it, we’re talking digital self here), that sort of possession is incredibly disturbing. No matter how heated forum conflicts can become, having someone else post under your name is even more disturbing.

So what I would argue is that there is an inadequate metaphor for the digital self. Rape in the digital world may not be possible in the same exact sense as the physical. Taking control of another character is a sort of crime against them, no matter what is done with it. Even if the offence is not directly sexual in nature, it is still a sort of rape of the personality. We cannot send our physical self into the void, but we can create our own archetype of our self. When that archetype is violated, we feel that violation in the same way. Coming from a proud denizen of the digital plane, I would like to make it clear that there is much at stake. Just ask A Darkening Dawn or Datalisk. They’ll tell you.



 

Speaking of Speaking

I know that I speak in different ways to different sets of people. I am going to use a couple of examples here, just to make my point. The first example is what I am writing right now. I would probably not say all of this if I was speaking to someone else in person. That is partly because that here I have to state everything and make it completely clear. That is because no one can really say “wait, back up, I didn’t quite get that last part” on a forum or posting. In spoken language, I would say a lot less, and still be assured that my meaning was coming across. That, and here I can talk for as long as I want to. There is really no limit to how much text I can put down. But if I were talking, then there would be a logical time limit to whatever I was saying. So I naturally have to communicate differently in spoken and written mediums, even if I am using the same language.

But not all written languages are the same. I know that many people are into IM’ing. This kind of truncated speech is used because of the time constraints involved. Also, because one is in direct communication with another, they don’t necessarily have to get out every thought in a complete sentence. This leads to all sorts of “IM”lish where you’ll see spelling and grammatical errors, and even stylized misspellings. Now I don’t IM, so you’re probably wondering why I’m talking about this. I don’t IM, but I do play first person shooter (FPS) computer games. Without a VOIP support, typing is the only way to communicate to another player in the game. But when one is typing, one is not moving- which makes one into a sitting duck… which is bad. One might say that FPS-speak is similar to IMlish, but I would have to argue. I won’t say I’m fluent, but when someone types “gs,” I can translate that to “good shot!” or “ty” for “thank you.” Clearly, such a language leaves a lot of room for misinterpretation problems. It is a special purpose language- used in special circumstances.

These are extreme examples, I know, but sometimes the best examples can be found in the extremes. I will also say that my normal speaking language does change slightly depending on whom I am talking to. Having taken Japanese for 4 (going on 5 now) years, I am familiar with the concept of an “in group” and “out group” languages (although I still get them confused now and then). The whole idea is that there is a way of talking to people who you are comfortable with- a way that allows for more close communication, while also having a different language set that allows for greater diplomacy. I would argue that we do this in our everyday life as well without realizing it. There is a way that we talk around our friends, and a way that we talk around those who are above us in “status” level. There are many, many different ways of speaking, and we use them daily. But there are also many different special application languages that we have learned over the course of our life. Especially with the different means of communication available to us, there are definitely different languages that are used for different purposes. I would say that what is truly myself would not be described by any of these languages in particular. Each way of speaking reveals a certain aspect of who I am, which is not necessarily the same as being different from myself. It’s the odd sort of thing which is often difficult to describe- every shard that is portrayed in a language is me. Each individual view is distinct and somewhat different. At the same time, all of the shards AND the sum total of the shards is what I use to define myself. (that’s way complicated, and I can’t even explain it satisfactorily to myself without resorting to poetry which is another language….. *sigh*). But in response to the last question, as to whether the parts of yourself represented to another group are truly you. Since when have we laid bare the inner, deepest workings of our personality to another person or group? It wakes a lot of trust, and isn’t something that is going to happen easily. And so I would argue that we aren’t ever really showing the “true self” to another person- that’s not hiding behind a mode of speaking, it’s just that our emotional barriers close us off just enough to give us some modicum of privacy and self containment. It’s not a defensive thing, it’s just a human thing. Which is all that our languages are anyways.



 

Hello (hello, hello) is there anybody out there?

Looking at my blog, I realized something. For all of my posts, I have 3 real comments. That started me thinking - which is always dangerous.

I realize that in writing this, I am screaming out into the void. Of course, what else is blogging, but shouting at the top of one’s lungs into the indeterminable vastness of the internet and hoping that someone else stumbles across your voice? But as of late, I feel that either fewer people are hearing, or that the ones who do hear are declining comment. Given that the grade for the class is based upon the revisions that we make, and that the revisions must be based on the comments we receive…. I am sure that my problem is clear. If you are reading this, then it means that you aren’t the one that I am talking to. Isn’t it wonderful how this works! But it is my first recourse. So if you are reading this, and don’t want to comment on anything else that I’ve said, please at least say “I’ve read this” in the comments section. That way, at least I’ll have some idea of how many people can hear me screaming in the void. 

More powerful than any Mind-Control ray...

At first reading the account of the “strange and dreadful occurrences,” I was not quite surprised. Such an account leaves little doubt about the situations of the writer and readers. It is an automatic for them that such strange occurrences would be the result of a demonic possession. There is also the statement that such things are relatively common, and that only the power of their benevolent supernatural can keep it from happening to them.

Sounds like a pretty powerful form of mind control to me.

Today, we label things “illnesses” and “dysfunctions,” because we have been able to trace specific maladies to specific problems with the body. We know that if such things occur, then it is probably the result of one or more imbalances within the body. Hallucinations, convulsions and irrational behavior can be linked to specific biological problems. This “natural understanding” allows us to fix the problems as they occur, and even to prevent the problems from occurring in the first place.

But the body of science that is available to us now was not available when this article was written. Instead of a “natural understanding,” they must use a “supernatural understanding,” with cues and a frame of reference provided to them by an outside source. In this case, the outside source provides a demonic interpretation of mental illness and hallucination. But that is not all. Recall the line



“Remember the late storm of hailstones in which many things were slain and beaten to the ground, which Hailstones were equal in greatness to a Goose Egg, of eight inches about”



This storm is described not in terms of naturally occurring weather phenomenon, but in terms of the “wrath of God.” We still use those words, but today they have somewhat less literal meaning. But in this case, the storm is the actual anger of the supernatural being, a judgment come down from the supreme deity as a result of negative human actions.

In a similar way, negative human behavior is not a result of chemical imbalances, but as a result of hostile spirits. Since only the benevolent supernatural (and the belief in said and conformity to the code of conduct imposed by the institution advocating said) can protect the individual from those negative spirits, there is a significant benefit to believing.



The metaphor of demonic possession creates several logical results. The first is that there must be spirits and supernatural entities, some of them friendly and some hostile. The second is that those hostile spirits can enter the human body and take control, or affect reality in some way. Yet another result is that those entities can not only affect reality, but can affect each other.

But those beliefs are only a part of a structure which affects how people act and think. If belief in a particular supernatural being can prevent possession, then what happens when one is possessed? The actions and strange behavior are not the result of an illness, or disability, but rather the result of personal sin. Thus, such actions are a reflection on the moral state of the individual, rather than any curable medical condition. Such an individual would be ostracized, or shunned as a result. Exorcism, rather than treatment, was the primary means of getting someone back to normal.

Today, we call such hallucinations and convulsions a disease. In fact, we have several different names for the conditions, depending on what biological factors cause the actions. That is far different than the model of demonic possession. Our model requires an understanding of disease causality. Their model provides a causality dependant on a particular theology. While our “belief” in science is just that, there is nevertheless a major difference between the theological and the scientific. The idea behind science is that at any point in time, any individual could replicate the experiments. But theology is different. It functions on a level necessary to explain the world around the individual, but it can create unexpected results- especially when it is used as a metaphor to explain things which have personal consequences.

After all, how else could have the woman been possessed, if she did not “fall from God never so little.” That is, after all, the message of this piece: “Be wary, lest yee too fall victim.”

One can find the reasoning behind the metaphors by asking one simple question “what purpose does it serve?” In some cases, it serves to communicate (bats have radar/sonar) In other cases, it serves to affect the ways that people see issues (drug abuse as sickness). In still other times, it can be used as a form of mind control, a powerful method of making people act and think in a certain way. It is this third way that is present in the article. The metaphor is controlling. It serves to define not only the actions, but the very beliefs of the people using the metaphor. Think about that the next time you use or see any metaphor- that the metaphor itself is mind control. (and what did I just use? Hmmm?)
 

A maze of glistening, tinkling spheres, bound by silver thread.

The mind is all in how we think about it. Just looking at the rather squishy mass of neurons isn’t enough to understand it, because what the mind “is” is not defined by the brain. What the mind is, is a complex environment. If using a metaphor for computers, it is the operating system and the software, capable of modifying and adapting itself to ever changing circumstances. It must also deal with filtering information- discarding the fluff and keeping only what is important. And then, everything is assembled into a maze of interlinked glistening, tinkling spheres, all connected in some way by a silver thread of association.

Why the mixed metaphors, you ask. The way that we think of and describe the mind is an ever changing thing. We really don’t quite understand “how” people think, and so we can only describe its consequences. Using many metaphors for how thinking seems to be, we can gain a sort of understanding about it.

But the metaphors that we use are not only limited to how we think about the mind. They, like many other metaphors, have applications elsewhere. When we attempt to design a system that acts in a similar way to the mind, it is important that we think of how the mind works. Since we fail in complete understanding, any endeavor will eventually come down to the metaphor that is used. In terms of computation, we have organized data into “folders”- meaning that each document, each “file” exists within a single place, organized hierarchically from most general to least general. The words we use reveal the metaphor we are using. Where would one find a “file,” a “folder,” and a “desktop?” The metaphor for the modern computer is the desk and filing cabinet. Even earlier in the development of the computer, the metaphor was a piece of paper and a typewriter- attached to a smaller filing cabinet.

In thinking of new metaphors, as did Vannevar Bush, we come closer and closer to how the mind works. The eventual conclusion of such thinking and technology might be a computer which works in the same way that the mind does. Thinking about associations and filtering, rather than files and cabinets.

There is definitely a difference between thinking of the mind as a printed page, and as a web of trails. On the page of paper, everything is arranged in order, from first recording to last. And while the ink on the paper may become smudged, everything will still remain in its order, in the same positions that it was created in. The piece of paper metaphor shows that data is created and it illustrates some of the clarity with which we remember things. But at the same time, paper hides the associations that make the mind run. A web of trails describes the way that associations work far better. The more one walks down a certain trail, the deeper it is beaten. At the same time, a trail which is not walked more than once will become overgrown and eventually disappear. While the trails metaphor shows the association factor, it completely hides what is being stored in the trails. One does not find words or images worn into the dirt on a forest trail. In that case, a page of paper represents what is actually stored far better. But as to how it is stored, the trails metaphor is superior. So why not combine them? At the end of each trial is a piece of paper… It is more complex as metaphors go, but it also relates better to how the mind stores and retrieves information.

No matter what metaphor we use, it will still be a metaphor. And like any imprecise description, there will always be something that will be hidden or deemphasized. Then again, sometimes a metaphor is our best bet for understanding things as complex as the mind. 

And the world within a single word

Our understanding of bats has changed moderately since Cuvier wrote his animal textbook. In part, this is because our instruments have changed to allow us to measure and quantify what is happening with the bat’s sensory system. But that is not all that has happened. How does one describe something to another person, who may have no direct understanding of what is taking place? We understand bats because we know they use “sonar”. Our entire understanding of the concept can be compressed into that single word. Since we know of that technology, we can use it as a metaphor to describe something else that may or may not be exactly like it. As technology changes, our definitions and metaphors change. In explaining computer concepts, I have often used real world examples (i.e. a file server is like a waitress). But as technology advances, those technologies can be used as metaphors for other things. Saying that bats use sonar is a great simplification available because of the invention of the technology. The description works both ways- for someone who knows about the navigation of bats, and does not know about sonar- the inverse is also true. As technology advances, and we create robots that act like insects, we start to understand how those insects behave. Eventually, when those products enter the marketplace, they will be used as metaphors for the insect behaviors. It won’t be so different from how we used sonar and radar to describe the navigation of bats. The thing about using the metaphor is that it works both ways. We can not only describe animal behavior in terms of the technologies we have created, but it is possible to describe our technologies in terms of animal behavior and traits. Our understanding of animals not only changes, but our understanding of technology changes as well. 

Tales Of The Gun

There I was. One gun in one hand, another in the other. One was pointed at the head of one of the thugs, and the other was pointed at another. They had their own weapons, and I happened to be looking down the barrel of a rather significant looking 9 millimeter pistol. From my vantage point, it wasn't much to look at, just a darker circle in the middle of a square of black steel. They called this sort of thing a Mexican standoff, although I wasn't and still am not really sure what Mexico has to do with anything. I couldn't see the other guy's gun, but I was sure that his little pistol wasn't anything special either. Now my guns, those were works of art. For an industry which operated on the principle of disposable weapons, I was certainly an oddity. Then again, I wasn't really in an industry. I killed people. It wasn't really a living, in that it didn't quite pay the bills. It did pay for itself though. It paid enough to have some rather spectacular guns made.

The one in my right hand was silver with black inlay. The pattern on the right one was absolutely beautiful, it looked like a feathered wing which started at the muzzle and wound back toward the handle. The gun wasn't actually silver, just a good solid silver plating. It was pretty, but it was definitely a functional piece. It was the heavier of the two. I had never really liked mixing ammunition sizes, but it made managing the recoil easier. A .32 ACP cartridge gave a whole lot less kick than the .50 caliber slug that came from the silver gun. The black pistol was the lighter caliber. I actually liked the looks of it a little better. The gold inlay on the black actually gleamed a little brighter in the light cast by the burning gasoline. But in my experience, I had found that the “little” .32 cartridge just didn't make a big enough hole in some of the heavier body armor. I had enough experience with making holes in things to appreciate the extra damage. I also had enough experience to know how much damage a weapon could do to protected flesh. That, and what kind of damage that a weapon could do to unprotected flesh. Namely the skull. I knew what the .32 cartridge would do to the man's skull, and he knew what his 9 millimeter would do to mine. I guess that the Mexicans knew that too. Maybe that was why it was their standoff.

“Well, since I got hired to kill you guys, I suppose that there’s not much chance of either of you walking out of this place alive.” That was me. You have to say something in a situation like that, and since they both knew the guy that had put the contract on them, they weren’t exactly going to put down their guns. Besides, I knew something they didn’t. I had a partner.

She wasn’t exactly the most lovable girl on the planet. She had a sense of humor like a barracuda and was just about as charming as one. Then again, her personality wasn’t why I hired her. I hired her because she could shoot.

Standing there with two guns pointed at me, I was faced with a critical decision. I could pull either trigger, and it wouldn’t make much difference. Even if fired both weapons at the same time, there was a good probability that one or both of the men would still have enough in him to cap me. Since one can’t really enjoy the contract money when one is dead, that wasn’t really an option for me. They were also thinking the same thing, and since they couldn’t exactly shoot me without me killing the both of them, we were at what one might call an impasse.

I did know one thing that they didn’t. She was off there somewhere in the shadows, and I had paid her to cover my back. There was another problem though. She could shoot one of the goons in the head and his partner would probably kill me. She could shoot one of their guns away, but not both at the same time. I had come to a conclusion about two minutes into the encounter. At about that time, I thought that I heard a bolt being moved. Apparently she had come to the same conclusion that I had.

A bright green dot appeared on my chest. Now let me tell you something. The red lasers that you see in movies, those are a bunch of bull. With one of those, unless you’ve got great conditions, you don’t see it. With a green sight-laser, you can put a dot on your target from almost a kilometer and see the damn thing. I knew that on the other end of that laser beam was my sniper, with a FNH Special Police Rifle.

“Shit!” I exclaimed. What else are you going to say when you’re about to get shot? I had half prepared myself for what was going to happen, but that didn’t make it any less pleasant. I don’t remember the crack of her shot. By the time the sound wave got there, I was already on my way down. I fell to the floor, dead for what I think was the fourth time.

I really have to stop pushing my luck with these things. The lady in Soho said that my heart had stopped for about three minutes. I think that counts. Anyway, that had been Number Three, so this had to be Number Four. I really have to stop getting shot.

The two guys who had been pointing their guns at me suddenly had nothing to point them at anymore. They started looking around in shock, trying to find the sniper. After all, for all that they knew, she could shoot them next. They were too busy looking around to see me blink.

The Fabrique Nationale de Herstal Special Police Rifle fires a NATO 7.62 by 51 millimeter cartridge. The round is a little thinner and longer than a standard AA battery, three of which were in my pocket at the time. Long story. The bullet that it fires may seem small, but when one hits you in the chest traveling at a little less than 2700 feet per second, you know that something’s wrong. The force of a normal round is about equivalent to having a one kilogram mass dropped on you from eight meters. Don’t ask me how I know that. That might not sound like a lot, but when you consider that it’s all going against a space about the cross-section of a pencil, that’s something to think about. Luckily for me, she wasn’t using the normal NATO round. That was what the guys who formerly had pointed guns at me didn’t know. She had used a flat “less than lethal” round against me. “Less than lethal” still gets me a laugh. I know that it broke at least three ribs when it hit my body armor. But true to advertising, I wasn’t dead. Being shot still stings though, I don’t recommend trying it.

Anyway, they were looking around for her, their attention focused on everything but what was at their feet. It took me a few seconds to get the wherewithal back to raise the guns. You know, with me being shot and all. I focused on moving the black .32 to its target. She had shot me in the right side, right where it would do the least damage. That did make moving the heavier pistol a little harder. The silver .50 caliber moved a little more sluggishly. The gods of aiming decided to gift me with a perfect shot for my left hand, but they weren’t so forthcoming with my right hand. Then again, that’s why I like my silver gun. It makes big holes in everything.

I pulled both triggers at the same time. The two goons never knew what hit them. The little .32 struck the first one near the base of the jaw on his right side and exited through the top of his skull, leaving a wonderful mess for housekeeping. I wasn’t so lucky with the .50 caliber though. I didn’t have much control over my right arm at that point, so I just kind of pointed it dead center on the other goon and pulled the trigger three times. After all, I was getting paid to make these guys dead. I wasn’t getting paid to make it neat or clean up the mess afterward. The cartridges for the silver gun are expensive, but I was more interested in making sure the guy was dead than worrying about how much money I was wasting on ammo.

I got up then. That’s one of the perks of having died three times is that you can make it look convincing even when you’re not dead. They wouldn’t be getting up. I did still have a couple of broken ribs though. Worse had happened to me. Like dying, but then again I digress. Getting out of there was going to be a little hard though. I hadn’t exactly planned on getting shot. Well, let’s put it this way. There was a plan A and a plan B. Plan A was that I killed both of the targets without getting hurt. Plan B was the one that I was currently working on. It involved a white cleaning van, and paying my sniper an extra ten percent.

That is one of the problems of being an antihero. You may get called when they don’t want the “good guys” messing things up, but it also meant that you didn’t get anything for free. When you wanted a taxi, you paid for one, and right now, taxis were at a premium. That meant that my sniper could pretty much name her price, and that generally meant about ten percent.

In the van, headed back to my “secret lair” which wasn’t so much a lair, and really wouldn’t be much of a secret if anyone wanted to find out, I tried to think of the reason why I had recently killed two men. On the scale of Mother Teresa to Stalin, they were somewhere more near the middle of the “evil” axis, but they were still men. I knew a priest who would probably tell me that I was going to hell for that one. I think it was number six on his list. I really didn’t care. If the city wanted to use me on the sly to get rid of some of their more undesirable elements, all that they needed to negotiate was the price. After all, I didn’t do it for the satisfaction or the glory. I didn’t mind killing things and it paid well. It didn’t completely pay the bills though. I served coffee to do that. I work at the Starbucks on Eleventh and Main. At least there I wasn’t going to get shot.


What I want to know is, can you connect with the character. Is his presentation believable and likable. Do you really care that he just killed two men, or does that not really matter? What about him makes him likable? Or unlikable?