Imagine that, since childhood, you’ve been a fan of a now-obscure genre of computer games called interactive fiction. Imagine that, since 1999, you’ve kept a weblog.
Imagine that, since 2003, you’ve taught journalism and new media courses, in which you have introduced students to weblogs and interactive fiction (among other topics, of course).
Recently, after about five years of on-and-off research, you published an article that included archival material about the first interactive fiction game, Colossal Cave Adventure. Thanks to the kindness of innumerable e-mail contacts, you have been able to study the source code — recovered from a 30-year-old backup tape — that had been considered lost.
Imagine that you’re now in the middle of teaching a unit on the materiality and persistence of digital culture, to a class that consists mostly of upper-level journalism students who have been blogging academically for years. You’ve recently assigned Espen Aarseth’s close reading of Infocom’s interactive fiction work Deadline, and you just finished going through Matt Kirchenbaum’s detailed forensic analysis of a 5 1/4 floppy disk containing the interactive fiction game Mystery House.
And imagine that someone (not you) gets ahold of some archival material from Infocom. More than just some archival material, a complete copy of the company’s networked hard drive, bristling with e-mails, production notes, source code, and demo files.
And imagine that the someone (who is not you) knows it would be a bad idea to publish the whole archive, since it doubtless contains sensitive private information. But imagine that the someone is very excited to learn details about a canceled sequel to the immensely popular Douglas Adams game “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” So excited, in fact, that despite admitting he knows better, he can’t resist posting some private e-mails from the archive, in the guise of news reporting.
Imagine that the former Infocom employees find about this pretty quickly. Imagine that some of them are not at all happy that their private e-mails were publicized in this manner. Imagine a conversation thread with over a hundred posts that raise questions about journalistic ethics, the persistence of digital memory, the cultural significance of this particular genre of computer game, the importance of contextualizing evidence, and the public nature of a weblog.
In short, imagine that — unfolding in real time — you find a perfect real-world example that, with eerie clarity, embodies almost all the concepts you’ve devoted yourself to teaching and studying in the past ten or so years.
For obvious reasons, I can’t share the whole Infocom Drive. But I have to share some of the best parts. It’s just too good. — Andy Baio, “Milliways: Infocom’s Unreleased Sequel to Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” (Waxy.org)
Imagine that, unfortunately, all this breaks the same week that your students have been hit with 1) spring weather, 2) the full force of impending term paper assignments and final projects, and 3) for the graduating seniors, the day they were to have submitted their final portfolios.
Imagine asking your students to find some time — somewhere, somehow — to take a look at this fascinating and complex issue.
Post was last modified on 19 Nov 2017 10:00 am
I both like and hate that Canvas tracks the number of unmarked assignments that await…
The complex geometry on this wedge building took me all weekend. The interior walls still…
My older siblings say they remember our mother sitting them down to watch a new…
I played hooky to go see Wild Robot this afternoon, so I went back to…
I first started teaching with this handout in 1999 and posted it on my blog…
View Comments
Sorry, Andy -- I've fixed the typo. (I got it right in the two other places where I wrote your name.)
Hey, Dennis... My name's Andy, not Scott. I'd love to hear what your students think.