Tomecide

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My Hearing Ear. 
I was born completely deaf in my right ear. Hearing loss isn’t uncommon in America; few people have “perfect” hearing. That said, being deaf in my right ear has presented unexpected challenges, and some wonderful opportunities.
For my tiny corporeality project, I considered writing about about my right, deaf ear, and indeed, that might be a more interesting way to explore my relationship with a part of me that is oftentimes neglected. But to really take the full measure of what it means to experience deafness, I figure I first need to attend to the what it means to be hearing. 
How does my left ear shape my experience of the world? How much (in)attention is paid to how I process sound? To what extend is my left ear (in contrast to my right ear) actively considered or integrated into my life? What does the still-limited range of function mean for my participation in the political Hearing and/or Deaf communities? 
Over the next semester, I’ll be exploring these, and other questions in attempt to theorize the bodily experience of unilateral sensorineural hearing loss.  

My Hearing Ear. 

I was born completely deaf in my right ear. Hearing loss isn’t uncommon in America; few people have “perfect” hearing. That said, being deaf in my right ear has presented unexpected challenges, and some wonderful opportunities.

For my tiny corporeality project, I considered writing about about my right, deaf ear, and indeed, that might be a more interesting way to explore my relationship with a part of me that is oftentimes neglected. But to really take the full measure of what it means to experience deafness, I figure I first need to attend to the what it means to be hearing. 

How does my left ear shape my experience of the world? How much (in)attention is paid to how I process sound? To what extend is my left ear (in contrast to my right ear) actively considered or integrated into my life? What does the still-limited range of function mean for my participation in the political Hearing and/or Deaf communities? 

Over the next semester, I’ll be exploring these, and other questions in attempt to theorize the bodily experience of unilateral sensorineural hearing loss.  

Sonnet LXXXIII Remix

Wagon

I’ve fallen off the most socially appropriate option:

            A once-willing drinker–one, two, a few.

Saturdays of glass, an un-checkered stalemate, is nothing like

           discovering your unconscious mind is staging a silent revolt.

You learn how fast two people are a multicar pileup on the lookout for changelessness.

 

I swear that we’re not born until we note our place with bookmarkers.

           That measure we’ve shared, and the ticket seats are

numbered in otters, Duke Ellington, and convocation credits.

           Head races, slow hand. Ears roar, tongue quiets.

I swear that I am made of comparative normalcy, of the things you need to pack.

Trust me, Mr. Benjamin, you are pretty much a hit

           –my first attempt–

but the way you choose to look at me soothes unsettlingly. 

           So I could run strange figures in the planbook,

driving to the heat back in California, but there’s not actually a city named Paradise.

The blood lets greyer now, though the bow tie stands forth.

After all, a soothsayer bids I still fit into that old profile.

[Learn more about Out of Sequence: The Sonnets Remixed here.]

The British Library has just released over a million images into the public domain. In a candid conversation about their limited knowledge of many of these images, they plan to launch a crowdsourcing application at the beginning of next year, to help describe what the images portray.

"Our intention is to use this data to train automated classifiers that will run against the whole of the content. The data from this will be as openly licensed as is sensible (given the nature of crowdsourcing) and the code, as always, will be under an open licence."

This is a very cool project, and one that importantly creates a structure not only for future academic work, but also art and culture projects as the British Library calls users to “use, remix, and repurpose.”

Systems Thinking

Tradition has resisted questions of 

     fragile duty,

the fall of your voice–sighing, important–

cracks the blow willow flowering your smiles.

Refusals to be led by hands in my

     back pocket,

fingers fondling bills or cupping my ass as you

drink bourbon from teapots and network sources.

Valances question the affair, claiming 

     ”opposites attract,”

but atomize originality, dissecting each quirk, 

as the center holds out. Things fall apart.