palimpsest

Description (in English)

November 2008, mid-GFC. Kim Powe, Australia’s once wealthiest citizen, is depressed and obsessed with the $3.9 billion he lost in overseas investment. He writes ‘business plans’ for his personal life. March 2014. Paige Bligh, a runaway from Karratha, recounts her experiences for Right Now! Weekly’s follow-up feature article: Confessions of an Australian Sex WorkerPaige & Powe is a digital epistolary novel that depicts Australia’s wealthiest citizen losing considerable money, and Australia’s poorest citizen coming into considerable money. As their two lives eventually intersect, it explores controversial social issues, specifically the impact of recent Western Australian casino and prostitution legislation.

Description in original language
Screen shots
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Technical notes

Interface made for PC. Mobile viewing is not recommended.

Contributors note

David Thomas Henry Wright - Author

Karen Lowry - Digital Interface

Julia Lane - Illustrator

By Alvaro Seica, 29 August, 2014
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Abstract (in English)

My talk will examine the paratextual play inspired by Nick Montfort's generative poem "Taroko Gorge," which has prompted more than two dozen adaptations and remixes of its source code.
The poem's code is as much an object of fascination for its community of readers as the poem it outputs. What is the "paratext" in this setting? Is it the commented code directed at human readers? The two dozen adaptations? The "Taroko Gorge" meme authored by Talan Memmott? Or might it be the poetic output itself? One could think of the outputted poem as a dazzling book cover-like illustration of main story, the 131-line source code.
In print-based works, source text and paratext exhibit a clearly delineated ontological priority. The text is the main focus and paratexts augment or problematize it. My talk takes up the challenge of identifying the paratext in "Taroko Gorge," which is unstable and dynamic in at least two ways: as procedural code rendering outputs infinitely; and as a social practice among e-literature writers for whom "Taroko" has become a non-exclusive node for the social practice of remix. Of the Taroko adaptations we might ask: at what point does paratext become its own text? When does it stop being a paratext, if at all? My own "Tournedo Gorge" doesn't alter Montfort's code; it riffs on the double-entendre between cooking and executable code. "FirstChild" conjures "Julia Child"; "recipes" find affinity in "procedural" code and "authoring." I copied Nick Montfort's code for his generative poem “Taroko Gorge” and filled the variables with my own words and context. I wrote “Tournedo Gorge” because I wanted to mash the space of
computation with the female, domestic, and tactile.
Literary critical traditions customarily locate "art" as the end product: not the draft but the publication; not paper and ink, but the story those material objects conjure. In my talk I will explore why the "Taroko Gorge" paratext are unstable, and why such instability reveals new ways to conceptualize how poetry and media studies talk to each other.

(Source: Author's Abstract)

Creative Works referenced
Description (in English)

The Deletionist is a concise system for automatically producing an erasure poem from any Web page. It systematically removes text to uncover poems, discovering a network of poems called “the Worl” within the World Wide Web.

In the “Working Note” for Nets, Jen Bervin explains her impulse to play with Shakespeare’s sonnets “to make the space of the poems open, porous, possible.” Her 2004 collection presents bolded words from sixty sonnets, creating a new “net” of meaning, a visually and lyrically emergent poetic constellation. The technique of erasure, in which words are removed from a source text to reveal poems latent within it, came to prominence with the work of Ronald Johnson and Tom Phillips in the 1960s. It has come back into fashion in recent book-length poems, including Srikanth Reddy's Voyager, Janet Holmes's The MS of My Kin, Jonathan Safran Foer's Tree of Codes, Mary Ruefle's A Little White Shadow, and (just released as this project is being completed) Sonne from Ort by Christian Hawkey and Uljana Wolf. The Deletionist asks what will happen if the text being erased is itself already a Net.

The Deletionist takes the form of a JavaScript bookmarklet that automatically creates erasures from any Web pages the reader visits. A similar method has been used in Ji Lee's Wordless Web, which removes all text from Web pages, as well as applets that turn webpages into Katamari Damacy environments or Space Invaders levels to make a game of destroying language. Between such extremes and the everyday Web, The Deletionist finds a space of texts that amplify, subvert, and uncover new sounds and meanings in their sources. Neither an artificial intelligence nor a poetry generating system, The Deletionist has a repertoire for uncovering patterns and revealing the poetics at play within the cloud: from Project Gutenberg ebooks, to Facebook, to Bomb Magazine and Arts and Letters Daily, The Deletionist will willingly apply itself to any text set before it.

Source: authors work description

Technical notes

How to use The Deletionist

  1. Make sure your have your bookmark bar (or bookmark toolbar), at the top of your browser, open. The method of doing this differs for different browsers, but it is typically done from the "View" menu.
  2. Drag The Deletionist icon from the middle of this window onto the bookmark bar. (After doing this, you will have The Deletionist ready to run at any time.)
  3. Visit any Web page that interests you. NB: The Deletionist will provide the most striking results if there is some text on the page.
  4. Click The Deletionist bookmark on the bookmark bar to create an erasure poem out of the page.
  5. Repeat (3) and (4) as often as you like.
  6. If you find a particularly good page of the Worl, share it with friends or with us by sharing the URL, for instance, by tweeting the link to @thedeletionist with the hashtag #deletion.

How The Deletionist works:

The system reads and removes standard Web page text, but does not remove a few special classes of text, including text within image, within a canvas, within an iFrame, and on buttons.

The system is deterministic — there is no random element. The Deletionist chooses a method of erasure based on the properties of the Web page. So, for static pages, you can share a particular result with others by simply sharing the URL, and their loading the page, as with your reloading it, will produce the same result. However, if the page changes, the system may change its method of erasure.

The Deletionist works to make every page into a single poem. If the words that result are spread too thinly over a very long page (such as one that contains the text of an entire novel), try applying The Deletionist to a smaller excerpt of this text, such as a chapter.

Some pages can load extra content after the main page has loaded — Facebook and Twitter, for instance. Anything that has been loaded after The Deletionist has done its work will not be erased into a poem unless you click on The Deletionist again.

Some pages use this type of dynamic text loading, or other special means of displaying text, for everything. Many of Google's pages, including Google search results and Google News, are of this sort, and The Deletionist will not work on them.