Meme’s the Word

I would say that writing factors into about forty percent of a meme. It’s important, it gives context and makes the meme specific. The text can’t be too complicated or too simple unless the person viewing it has already been involved in the community for a long period of time. It can play on the visuals or juxtapose the image so well that it becomes funny. However, the reason I say the text factors in to only forty percent of the meme is because without the image, there is no meme. Especially in modern memes, like the ones seen below, the images have become so common that the format has become something to be expected and depended on. Of course, there are sound bytes now with TikTok and Vine (rip) that have become memes, but the visual format has for the most part stayed the same. I never can tell what’s going to become a meme and what’s going to die out, I guess it really all depends on the trends of the time.

Question: Is there a meme that you’ve been surprised has become popular? Personally I was surprised that deep fried memes became as popular as they did.

Dialogue and Delivery

Delivery in Roman times was dependent on a speakers voice, intonation and body language. A speaker would stand in front of an audience and have to rely on their presentation in order to make an interesting or successful point. It was “lost” mostly to developing technology including the printing press, but much more recently, the internet. The internet erased most of the need for someone to stand in front of an audience and telling them what they need to know. Now we have Wikipedia and social media to do that. Your voice and presentation don’t matter when all your audience can see of you is your user name. It is similarly difficult online to inject emotion or body language into a speech, something the Romans relied on to get their points across. In addition to the advent of technology, the art of oration became a topic of fixed study in the 18th century and led to diminishing interest in delivery as the Romans did it. It became less about emotion and more about precision. It was formulaic instead of compelling.

Body and identity had a major role in rhetoric and delivery in Roman times. “Body” included everything from how you presented to your performance (body language and expressions) and was especially important when conveying ethos in a speech. Your audience wouldn’t be able to relate to you as an orator if you were robotic and stiff, they would relate to you and care about what you had to say if you presented it well. Now, with the internet playing a major role in how we communicate and present to one another, the “body” is something different. It includes how you speak, the images you display of yourself and the emotional connotations within those images, the emoticons you use. Personally, I’d say that your presentation is still important in face to face interactions even when you’re incorporating technology into your presentation, and your presentation is still important over Zoom as well (although from the torso up). Everything from your background to your lighting to whether or not you choose to have your camera on communicates a different image, and can say as much as your body language would in Roman times.

I’m a communication minor so I’m always thinking about delivery in the back of my mind. I notice the “ums” in my presentations and try to leave them as silences instead, I look directly into the camera on Zoom as the equivalent to eye-contact, I correct and re-correct spacing and punctuation in my writing to give off the right tone. Even though we are no longer as often speaking in front of the class, what we do put out will be scrutinized, so it’s important to me to make sure I still think about presentation for anything I do.

Question: How close does the advice in public speaking classes come to the nature of delivery in Roman times? Is it still to formulaic?

Oops, I Did it Again

The definition of insanity is doing something over and over again and expecting a different result (at least according to Einstein). Insanity, meet Twine games. For each game I would come across, I would have to play it through several times to get each ending, and I was not disappointed once.

The differences between the benefits of interactivity for text-based games, media such as virtual reality, and the world-building of a great novel are few and far between. The ultimate goal of each is to immerse the player or reader in the world, whether that be through great description, interaction, or a mix in between. The deeper engagement with the text that IF games offer is ultimately down to the similar worldbuilding in novels, where the text is the only medium there is to convey the plot and stakes of the story. The difference between the two lies in the personal stakes the reader feels in the moment. “Harvesting Interactive Fiction” touched on the concept of “I did that” in interactive fiction being an important driving force behind the success of the games that are largely text-based. This concept cannot be applied in regular novels, and even in choose-your-own-adventure games, the options are limited. It is down to the words and the words alone to give the reader what they are looking for in terms of world-building and stakes. Virtual reality and similar media, I would say, are still dependent on the text for success. The world itself could be as well developed and as immersive as the real world, but it would be nothing without objectives and characters for the player to follow. These text-based ideas still exist to create stakes and world-building, which includes more than just the physical world.

So, overall, I would say that there is little difference between the three types of media simply because there is still a deep reliance on the text to convey the thoughts and feelings that the developers and authors are trying to convey to the audience. The only difference is the difference in the approach to the stakes in the world. The stakes in a text-based game are very player-based, centering around the choices the player must make. Stakes in VR can depend on the player, or depend entirely on the world that the software and the script have combined to create. Stakes in novels are entirely text-based and depend equally on world-building and the deep descriptions that the text can offer.

Because of the minimal differences in these formats, I feel like we can and should try to implement some of the techniques we see in IF into other media. As “Harvesting Interactive Fiction” says, “We are at the narrative summit” of IF. Integrating the IF techniques of poetry, ambiguity, and complicity, and keeping them in mind throughout VR and novels would help expand them enormously, and further close the already minuscule divide between IF, VR, and novels.

Question: If you could make any classic novel an Interactive Fiction game like those we see on Twine, what would it be? And why? (Personally, I would choose Frankenstein, both because I can’t think of anything else right now, and also because I want to find out what would have happened had Frankenstein chosen not to be a horrible dad to his creation at several points throughout the novel).

Can’t Unsee, Can’t Compare

It may be because I’m a member of Gen Z and have just grown up with technology, or that I’m fantastic at spotting discrepancies in design, but the Can’t Unsee game was fairly easy for me. If I thought about it too much I would immediately fail, but if I went with my gut and let my eyes unfocus a little I would guess with enough accuracy to get a decent score. It was always my approach to spot-the-differences in magazines, so I’m glad the same approach seemed to apply here.

For those who chose to focus on the other design games, Can’t Unsee presents you with two images and tells you to select the correct image while getting progressively harder. It challenges your perception of color, transparency, size, space, and contrast.

Although I relied primarily on my gut for this game, I know that being able to identify when elements in design should be adjusted is a valuable skill. Small modifications can make or break a design, down to capitalization and the size of a “skip” button. Because of this lesson, I do think that design games are helpful. They make us take note of what we otherwise could miss, and gives a name to the things that we may identify as incorrect on instinct alone. The fact that they are fun is just a bonus.

The Epic Highs and Lows of Template Design

Overall, I would say that using Canva was a markedly pleasant experience. The templates were easy on the eye, and the color schemes, placement, and typeface were all chosen for me. Of course, I made adjustments, but overall, especially on the flyer for the English contest, Canva made the whole experience easier. I did not have to spend an hour agonizing over a small issue in spacing or color, because Canva worried about that for me, and had already come up with a solution. However, I did find Canva more restricting. Not only did it limit me to free features, but it also did not let me adjust the minute details that I had grown used to adjusting in Publisher. Text boxes were stubborn, layers were stubborn, and colors were stubborn. The shapes that I could put in could be modified in set ways only. The template I chose limited me as well to features available within the template. So, though it was easier to create something like a social media graphic easily, I wasn’t able to meet a lot of the design expectations that I would ordinarily have to meet in this class. I wouldn’t want to use Canva for a project with a lot of information either. Here, “see caption” was a way out, because it was for social media, but I could see myself spending several frustrated minutes trying to wrangle the Canva textboxes to handle larger sections of information. Although it would be more difficult to meet a more serious and technically complicated design brief in Canva, breaking the rules felt so good and went as easy as a hot knife through butter. I chose a template, and immediately proceeded to add shapes willy-nilly and apply the worst possible texture for readability in the brightest yellow. In breaking the rules, I didn’t have to care where my textboxes were or what type was going to be used, I just dragged things all over the place. In the future, I think it will depend on the assignment for me to go back to Canva. Something simple, without a lot of text, and I’ll use Canva no problem. Anything more complicated than that, though, and I will continue to use my dreaded design program.

Question: Is template design worth it for the general population? Would it be good to do away with templates and let people experience the trial and error that comes along with design?

I Want to Write this in Comic Sans

At first I was truly put-out by this article’s use of Comic Sans. I have been taught over many years of adhering to the TNR standard that Comic Sans is to be used only if you are a bad writer, or if you like to make memes. The use of that font in an academic article was shocking. However, as I actually began to read the article, I found it wasn’t at all unbearable, and I only really remembered that Nichols was using Comic Sans when he was using other terrible fonts as a reference. Comic Sans is one of the many “tactical” typefaces. Tactical typefaces are ones which are culturally influential regardless of the education of the audience on typefaces, and are strategically geared to catch the attention of certain audiences. “Typography reflects and expresses culture, and the limits we place on type tend to reflect the limits we intend to place on our culture…,” (Nichols 35). For example, TNR is largely considered professional, and in order to avoid that association, a business may use a typeface that has a less professional attachment. For example, the Joy Fellowship monthly church bulletin, in which the many “bad” typefaces combine to form a flyer that is eye-catching and could be described as “fun.” This smorgasbord of texts serves the purpose of catching the audience’s eye and conveying the message that the membership is friendly.

I feel mostly open to using less professional fonts in my design. I think that as long as the concepts of the design are there, that it wouldn’t be too damaging to use a “bad” typeface, I might even manage to use it in a tactical way. However, I would never be brave enough to write my entire document in a font like Comic Sans. I feel that regardless of what kind of audience or attention you are looking to draw, you have to keep in mind the risk of using a less traditional and less professional font, and until I am much much better at design, I don’t think that is a risk that I’m willing to take.

Question: Do you have a least favorite font? What is it and why do you hate it so much?

It’s Just a Font, Man

Never will I understand the hatred that this man holds for Times New Roman. He compares it to a void, a non-choice. It’s a font. One that I’ve had to use ever since I was asked to write papers for the first time. It’s perfectly readable and tolerable, especially since it is so widely used, and people are now used to reading it, and I don’t see anything wrong with that. It is the standard for a reason, and though it may be a default, even in my personal writing I find that I write easier when I’m writing in Times New Roman. Maybe I’ve been brainwashed by continuous use of this font for years without change, but nothing in these articles has convinced me that Times New Roman is inherently bad, just that this man is tired of people using it. I may be one of those people he says “don’t care about typography,” like people who use Arial, but I feel like it’s more that there are so many alternatives to Times New Roman that you can use. But you don’t have to. Because Times New Roman has been the standard for years for a reason (a boring reason, sure), but I couldn’t help to just shrug my way through his arguments about this font because if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and he wants to fix a whole lot about a font that has no noticeable objective problems.

As for my typeface alternative, my pick is Goudy Oldstyle (although I particularly like Goudy Bookletter’s style, not for body text, but just for style). First of all, the numbers look very cool, and I value that in a font. Secondly, it has a lot of the “basic” features that Times New Roman has, without all of the apparent backlash. The “g’s” are similar, the tilt to the letter emphasis, like on the “O’s,” is also similar. I’m not looking for a particularly flashy font, just one that I can read without shuddering away from it. The “Q’s” are infinitely nicer looking, with little tails, and I have a feeling that the italic version of Goudy Oldstyle would get less hate than Times New Roman’s italics. As far as fonts in general go, I enjoy the symmetry and flair of Spectral, but that didn’t make the acceptable list.

Question: Would you consider using TNR on a flyer that you were supposed to make interesting? Can you make Times New Roman interesting?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goudy_Old_Style

Nothing is Ever New

These readings call into question how many times a graphic designer has gotten into trouble for stealing someone’s design, before getting fed up and writing books and articles on why stealing isn’t really stealing. I kid, of course, the authors make the differences very clear.

“Bad” stealing is stealing that has no flair, in the most basic of terms. To plagiarize or steal an author’s work, or a designer’s design, or an artist’s art, you copy that thing completely. Word for word. You dot no i’s and cross no t’s of your own. Perhaps worst of all, you give no credit to whomever it was you stole from, and you add nothing to it before passing it off into the world as your own. “Bad” stealing is the stealing that forgers go to jail for, and students get expelled for, because not only have you put in no effort of your own, but you are leeching off of someone else’s effort without learning anything for yourself in the process.

“Good” stealing, on the other hand, has all of the flair anyone could want. “Good” stealing capitalizes on your talent and the inspiration you get from other people. If you steal well (and correctly) you are creating something entirely your own that fits the tried and true mechanics of your craft. Take, for example, the works-every-time layout that we practiced with for this week. That layout has been stolen countless times and I’m sure no one has ever been accused of ripping it off, because everyone who uses it is taking those tried and true mechanics that have been proven to work, and applying those mechanics to their own unique design skills and talents. As Kleon says, we learn by copying, and every time we copy that layout, our design may become better. We learn, and eventually, we emulate, by taking what we learn and putting it together like the worlds best paper mache. Good stealing strives to be authentic instead of original, because we can’t be original anymore, but we can be crazy creative and genuine.

If you want to know if you’ve crossed the line from “good” stealing, to “bad” stealing, all you have to do is think: “Do I feel bad about this design?” “Do I want to hide this design from others?” “Is there a reason that the plagiarism detector on Blackboard red flagged my paper?” If the answer to any of these questions is yes, then you have crossed the line. Writing may be easier to discern, for better or worse, because of the copy paste feature. Copying and pasting large sections of text, with minimal changes and no citation, is clearly stealing. Design, however, may be less of a conscious decision, and is therefore harder to detect. If you have crossed over into bad stealing from design, there will probably be less mistakes, or at least less of the typical ones for you. Something might feel “off” with a placement because it’s someone else’s placement, and everyone has a different eye for design. Your background image may have a tricky copyright symbol that you crop out or blur into oblivion. That is all bad stealing, and that is when you have crossed a line.

I believe that stealing, good or bad, is easier in writing. It is not easier to get away with, but it is easier to carry out. In good stealing you may pick up new words to try out in your vocabulary, or a funky sentence structure that you want to give your own twist. You can mimic an author’s style for a few paragraphs until you find your own rhythm and give your story a life of it’s own. Bad stealing in writing is as simple as a ctrl+c and no citation. In design, stealing is more difficult, but unfortunately more accepted because it’s hard to prove. It is not as easy to catch a design that’s had its font changed and picture moved a half-centimeter to the left being spread all over the internet as it is to catch two twin essays. Either way, “bad” stealing is never appreciated, whether in writing or design.

My question for the class is: What is the best thing you have ever stolen and why?

https://mateyforfr.wordpress.com/2011/10/24/how-do-you-start-a-fire/

When Life Gives You Bad Design

I’ll be honest and say that I was planning to make this flyer much worse than it is here. It was hideous, a wonderful abomination. Then I realized that I had no where to fit the actual text, so I decided to tone it down and make sure I wasn’t breaking all the rules, just a lot of them.

The rules I’m breaking here are #4 bulky borders and boxes, #5 cheated or missing margins, #9 busy backgrounds, and #10 tacky type emphasis. Starting with the bulky borders and boxes; there is one large box with a border that contains all of the information. There is a very clear divide between this box and the rest of the flyer until it tapers out of visibility, which I included only to make the text less visible at the end. Why make a bad flyer if you can still read what it says completely? #5 is clearly broken because there are no margins to speak of. There aren’t even clear paragraphs. Terrible design. This certainly isn’t the busiest background of those flyers that I’ve seen, but I feel like the image of a deer with explosions for eyes is fairly busy, and the black text fading into the textured background emphasizes this point. As for the tacky type emphasis, the entire thing is capitalized, in addition to the font details getting lost in reverse.

I’d say most of the issues that arise in this are perceptual. There’s little contrast between the text and the background, there are no clear focal points (there might be, if one of the deer’s eyes was not cropped behind the text box), no clear line of progression for the eyes, unclear alignment, and the text is not readable thanks to its proximity to the other text. The entire layout is cramped and hard to follow. Culturally, though, I will say that I’m not keen on the color scheme and the explosion graphics remind me of low budget commercials from the early 2000s. I’d say White Space was fairly accurate in their assessment of what makes bad design, and unless I see a specific example of a time when the rules have been broken successfully, I will continue to think that their rules hold (for the most part) true.

For my reflection question, did anyone else have trouble toning down their bad designs? Did you have a hard time coming up with one? And am I the only one who thinks the title pages for each of the chapters is pretty hideous (especially from chapter one because who puts that shade of green and that shade of orange together on purpose)?

And Bet on the Right Chicken

My fake memoir is entitled “Put Your Eggs in One Basket,” for a few reasons. Firstly, I remember an afternoon I spent on a family friend’s farm playing with their chickens while my parents and the other adults were in the other room betting on which chickens would win in the chicken derby, hosted on the farm. It was a bizarre experience. I also remember the advice to not put all your eggs in one basket, or not place all your hopes on one thing being said multiple times throughout the day. My family’s a punny bunch. However, despite its wisdom and application for chicken and egg puns, I have spent most of my life ignoring this device, and it is for this reason that I probably would have lost money on any bets I would place in the chicken derby. Granted, there’s no chicken on the cover of my memoir, but it’s the thought that counts.

Upon first viewing of my memoir cover, your eyes would be immediately drawn to the bird’s nest in the bottom left-hand corner of the page. From there, you would be taken to the title in the biggest font I could fit on the page, and down to the increasingly smaller fonts. At that point you would notice the light green background. I feel like there’s a good coordinating contrast, the bird at home in the green but still standing out, and the dark purple text working with the faint purple elements of the nest while also standing out against the green background. I used Georgia Pro Cond Semi Bold for the text, because I didn’t want it to feel too formal, and it’s not too round either. As for repetition, I feel like the text being the same color helps with comprehensibility. In terms of proximity the title and the byline are closer together than the “A memoir by Lizzy Roth.”

I for one had trouble trying to incorporate life into my background, so I left it that light green. My question: Did anyone else have trouble making a versatile background? How did you get around any readability issues that arose from using a background that had multiple elements?