BrandonRosenbergFirstEssay 3 - 22 Dec 2023 - Main.BrandonRosenberg
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META TOPICPARENT | name="FirstEssay" |
It is strongly recommended that you include your outline in the body of your essay by using the outline as section titles. The headings below are there to remind you how section and subsection titles are formatted. | |
< < | Day in the Life If I Told Everyone “F*** you” | > > | Day in the Life If I Told Everyone "F*** you" | |
-- By BrandonRosenberg - 13 Oct 2023 | |
< < | I wake up to my alarm clock, chiming in the classic “beep beep
beep” manner. Although it bugs me, my choices of those are
restricted to those which have little more functionality than making
said sound at the proper time of day. If I knew how to program, I
could probably find a way to wake up to a more relaxing sound, but
that is outside of my skill set. I head to the lobby of my building
and gather the newspaper waiting for me. I read through it as I eat my
breakfast and drink my coffee. After I finish, I walk out of my
building and see the people on their morning commutes, heading | > > |
I wake up to my alarm clock, chiming in the classic "beep beep
beep" manner. Though it bugs me, my choices of noise are
restricted by the increasing infrequency of alarms with no more
functionality than making said sound at the proper time of day.
The alarm clocks these days, for those who don't use their smartphones,
often require internet connectivity and location tracking so they can
tell you about the weather or local news. If I knew how to program, I
could probably find a way to input a more relaxing sound of my choice,
but that is outside of my skill set.
I head to the lobby of my building and gather the newspaper waiting for me.
I read through it as I eat my breakfast and drink my coffee. After I finish,
I walk out of my building and see the people on their morning commutes, heading | | downtown to their offices. Unfortunately, I will not be joining them,
as my position as a junior associate was given to a candidate much | |
< < | more responsive and willing to submit to the firm’s work
monitoring systems. A pity, I think to myself. | > > | more responsive and willing to submit to the firm's draconian work
monitoring systems. A pity. | | | |
< < | I walk north to campus, and watch as the students walk absentmindedly
to their morning classes. They swipe into their respective buildings
ready to sit through class, likely just to get some online shopping
done while a professor talks at them. I had been one of them, until I
failed out. However, I didn't fail out because I wasn’t smart
enough, or didn’t try hard enough. I failed out because I
vehemently refused to use the student monitoring system
“Canvas” and had missed necessary assignments to my
courses. Some professors, such as Professor Moglen, were willing to
work with me on getting my work done outside of the usual processes,
but most saw it as too much effort and gave me no options in the
matter. As a result, I was unable to get enough credits to finish my
degree, after all, Professor Moglen only taught so many classes. So, I
turned back around and headed to my apartment. | > > | I walk north to campus and watch as the students walk absentmindedly
to their morning classes. They swipe into their respective buildings,
logging their entrance in some database and walk past the abundance of
cameras likely equipped with AI surveillance algorithms. I had been one
of them, until I failed out. It wasn't a result of poor effort or brains,
but because I vehemently refused to use the student monitoring system
"Canvas" and had been unable to access assignments necessary for my courses.
Some professors, such as Professor Moglen, were willing to work with me on
getting my work done outside of the usual processes, but most saw it as too
much effort and gave me no options in the matter. As a result, I was unable
to get enough credits to finish my degree. After all, Professor Moglen only
teaches so many classes. After my morning walk, I turned back around and headed home. | | There, I did some reading and wrote about how screwed we were as a
society. Unfortunately, my research abilities were significantly | |
< < | slighted by the constant account-making requirements that I saw as a
breach into my personal affairs. Making fake accounts could only get
me so far. With what I could scrape up, I finished my essay titled
“Don’t You See Where We’re Headed” and sent it | > > | slighted by the constant account-making requirements of many services.
Making fake accounts could only get me so far. With what I could scrape up,
I finished my essay titled "Don't You See Where We're Headed" and sent it | | off to a litany of major newspapers and blog sites. I figured | |
< < | I’d have more luck with the latter. I went to call my girlfriend
to let her know that I had finished it, and glumly remembered that she
had left me. I thought about the last things she said to me,
“You only talk to me on your terms! Why can’t I call or
text YOU when I need to talk!” She had not been too pleased with
my response, requiring privacy and preferring to chat in person, and
walked away. I had heard through a friend she was seeing a new guy,
assuredly someone who was much more accessible than myself. My friend
was one of my few connections to the social world left. I used to have
more, but the majority of them found it too troublesome to communicate
with me over encrypted email or similar, low profile means.
So, I emailed my family. They still love me, even though they were not
at all shy in expressing their disappointment in my life
choices. After a quick nap, I made dinner. I ate it and opened my book
to pass the time before I got sleepy again. I headed upstairs. As I
laid down in bed ready to drift off, I reflected on my day. Was it
worth it, I thought? Sure, I was morally honest with myself and stood
to my values. But what did it cost me? My job, my degree, my
girlfriend, my friends. Sure, I could serve to be the inspiration for
a few others to wake up to the surveillance state we could be heading
towards. But was I happy? Would there be enough people like me out
there to make a difference? I hoped so. If not, I had thrown it all
away for nothing.
Perhaps I could have gotten away with it. Perhaps people would have
had no choice but to submit to my tenuous restrictions, if I had been
incredibly good at my job, if I had been an incredibly passionate
romantic, if I had been the perfect friend. But, I was just an average
Joe, and there are many Joes out there willing to make people’s
lives a lot easier, at the cost of their submission to Big Tech. As
such there was no need for me. I fell asleep, resting easy knowing I
was a man of principle. | > > | I'd have more luck with the latter. I don't know why I do it anymore. At first
it was to show my girlfriend I was staying busy, but she had left me.
I thought about the last things she said to me, "You only talk to me on your
terms! Why can't I call or text YOU when I need to talk!" Ever since I had stopped
carrying a cell phone she and many of my old friends had decided it was too much of
a process to carry out our communications that involved no voicemail or "Imessage".
People really like the blue text.
After a quick nap, I made dinner, ate it, then opened my book
to pass the time before I could call it a night. When I eventually
laid down to drift off, I reflected on my day. Was it worth it, I thought?
Sure, I was morally honest with myself and stood to my values. But what had
it cost me? My job, my degree, my girlfriend, my friends. Sure, I could
potentially serve to be the inspiration for a few others out there to wake up
to the surveillance state we have found ourselves in. But was I happy? Would
there be enough people like me out there to make a difference? I hoped so.
If not, had I thrown it all away for nothing?
--+ The Next Morning
After waking up from this nightmare I remembered that this was not my life.
I had not said "F*** You" to anyone, not exactly. What I had done was slowly
disengage from certain avoidable elements, on my terms. Sure, I have to use
Canvas to access my assignments, but I can do it over a browser that does not
send all of my search history to the lowest bidder. Sure, I had to swipe in to
my school and my office space, but I could use a metro card to get there instead
of tapping my credit card and giving OMNI access to my daily travel schedule.
The question of how I can go only part of the way in regards to principles was
not first raised by technology. I had faced a similar dilemma when considering my
religious beliefs. For a long time, I believed that religion (for me Judaism) was a
binary. You either were a true believer and therefore were bound to the various rules
set by your deity, or you did not believe and lived how you please. For this reason, I
avoided looking into any sort of evidence of the divine. After all, I like how I live and
didn't want to change it all if I were to believe entirely the religious texts of my people.
However, I was able to find a middle ground where I could remain tied to the religion on my terms.
If I wanted to eat something "forbidden", I determined that I could do so while still maintaining
the culture and traditions that accompany my religion, even if technically in violation. As related
to modern technologies, which I can still believe are a serious problem to our freedom, sometimes you
need to bite the forbidden fruit to maintain the lifestyle you want. And, in both Judaism and freedom
from the absolute grip of technology, you need to be off your phone once a week.
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BrandonRosenbergFirstEssay 2 - 05 Nov 2023 - Main.EbenMoglen
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META TOPICPARENT | name="FirstEssay" |
It is strongly recommended that you include your outline in the body of your essay by using the outline as section titles. The headings below are there to remind you how section and subsection titles are formatted. | | -- By BrandonRosenberg - 13 Oct 2023 | |
< < | I wake up to my alarm clock, chiming in the classic “beep beep beep” manner. Although it bugs me, my choices of those are restricted to those which have little more functionality than making said sound at the proper time of day. If I knew how to program, I could probably find a way to wake up to a more relaxing sound, but that is outside of my skill set. I head to the lobby of my building and gather the newspaper waiting for me. I read through it as I eat my breakfast and drink my coffee. After I finish, I walk out of my building and see the people on their morning commutes, heading downtown to their offices. Unfortunately, I will not be joining them, as my position as a junior associate was given to a candidate much more responsive and willing to submit to the firm’s work monitoring systems. A pity, I think to myself. I walk north to campus, and watch as the students walk absentmindedly to their morning classes. They swipe into their respective buildings ready to sit through class, likely just to get some online shopping done while a professor talks at them. I had been one of them, until I failed out. However, I didn't fail out because I wasn’t smart enough, or didn’t try hard enough. I failed out because I vehemently refused to use the student monitoring system “Canvas” and had missed necessary assignments to my courses. Some professors, such as Professor Moglen, were willing to work with me on getting my work done outside of the usual processes, but most saw it as too much effort and gave me no options in the matter. As a result, I was unable to get enough credits to finish my degree, after all, Professor Moglen only taught so many classes. So, I turned back around and headed to my apartment. There, I did some reading and wrote about how screwed we were as a society. Unfortunately, my research abilities were significantly slighted by the constant account-making requirements that I saw as a breach into my personal affairs. Making fake accounts could only get me so far. With what I could scrape up, I finished my essay titled “Don’t You See Where We’re Headed” and sent it off to a litany of major newspapers and blog sites. I figured I’d have more luck with the latter. I went to call my girlfriend to let her know that I had finished it, and glumly remembered that she had left me. I thought about the last things she said to me, “You only talk to me on your terms! Why can’t I call or text YOU when I need to talk!” She had not been too pleased with my response, requiring privacy and preferring to chat in person, and walked away. I had heard through a friend she was seeing a new guy, assuredly someone who was much more accessible than myself. My friend was one of my few connections to the social world left. I used to have more, but the majority of them found it too troublesome to communicate with me over encrypted email or similar, low profile means. So, I emailed my family. They still love me, even though they were not at all shy in expressing their disappointment in my life choices. After a quick nap, I made dinner. I ate it and opened my book to pass the time before I got sleepy again. I headed upstairs. As I laid down in bed ready to drift off, I reflected on my day. Was it worth it, I thought? Sure, I was morally honest with myself and stood to my values. But what did it cost me? My job, my degree, my girlfriend, my friends. Sure, I could serve to be the inspiration for a few others to wake up to the surveillance state we could be heading towards. But was I happy? Would there be enough people like me out there to make a difference? I hoped so. If not, I had thrown it all away for nothing. Perhaps I could have gotten away with it. Perhaps people would have had no choice but to submit to my tenuous restrictions, if I had been incredibly good at my job, if I had been an incredibly passionate romantic, if I had been the perfect friend. But, I was just an average Joe, and there are many Joes out there willing to make people’s lives a lot easier, at the cost of their submission to Big Tech. As such there was no need for me. I fell asleep, resting easy knowing I was a man of principle. | > > | I wake up to my alarm clock, chiming in the classic “beep beep
beep” manner. Although it bugs me, my choices of those are
restricted to those which have little more functionality than making
said sound at the proper time of day. If I knew how to program, I
could probably find a way to wake up to a more relaxing sound, but
that is outside of my skill set. I head to the lobby of my building
and gather the newspaper waiting for me. I read through it as I eat my
breakfast and drink my coffee. After I finish, I walk out of my
building and see the people on their morning commutes, heading
downtown to their offices. Unfortunately, I will not be joining them,
as my position as a junior associate was given to a candidate much
more responsive and willing to submit to the firm’s work
monitoring systems. A pity, I think to myself.
I walk north to campus, and watch as the students walk absentmindedly
to their morning classes. They swipe into their respective buildings
ready to sit through class, likely just to get some online shopping
done while a professor talks at them. I had been one of them, until I
failed out. However, I didn't fail out because I wasn’t smart
enough, or didn’t try hard enough. I failed out because I
vehemently refused to use the student monitoring system
“Canvas” and had missed necessary assignments to my
courses. Some professors, such as Professor Moglen, were willing to
work with me on getting my work done outside of the usual processes,
but most saw it as too much effort and gave me no options in the
matter. As a result, I was unable to get enough credits to finish my
degree, after all, Professor Moglen only taught so many classes. So, I
turned back around and headed to my apartment.
There, I did some reading and wrote about how screwed we were as a
society. Unfortunately, my research abilities were significantly
slighted by the constant account-making requirements that I saw as a
breach into my personal affairs. Making fake accounts could only get
me so far. With what I could scrape up, I finished my essay titled
“Don’t You See Where We’re Headed” and sent it
off to a litany of major newspapers and blog sites. I figured
I’d have more luck with the latter. I went to call my girlfriend
to let her know that I had finished it, and glumly remembered that she
had left me. I thought about the last things she said to me,
“You only talk to me on your terms! Why can’t I call or
text YOU when I need to talk!” She had not been too pleased with
my response, requiring privacy and preferring to chat in person, and
walked away. I had heard through a friend she was seeing a new guy,
assuredly someone who was much more accessible than myself. My friend
was one of my few connections to the social world left. I used to have
more, but the majority of them found it too troublesome to communicate
with me over encrypted email or similar, low profile means.
So, I emailed my family. They still love me, even though they were not
at all shy in expressing their disappointment in my life
choices. After a quick nap, I made dinner. I ate it and opened my book
to pass the time before I got sleepy again. I headed upstairs. As I
laid down in bed ready to drift off, I reflected on my day. Was it
worth it, I thought? Sure, I was morally honest with myself and stood
to my values. But what did it cost me? My job, my degree, my
girlfriend, my friends. Sure, I could serve to be the inspiration for
a few others to wake up to the surveillance state we could be heading
towards. But was I happy? Would there be enough people like me out
there to make a difference? I hoped so. If not, I had thrown it all
away for nothing.
Perhaps I could have gotten away with it. Perhaps people would have
had no choice but to submit to my tenuous restrictions, if I had been
incredibly good at my job, if I had been an incredibly passionate
romantic, if I had been the perfect friend. But, I was just an average
Joe, and there are many Joes out there willing to make people’s
lives a lot easier, at the cost of their submission to Big Tech. As
such there was no need for me. I fell asleep, resting easy knowing I
was a man of principle. | | | |
> > |
I paragraphed the text, because as a reader, let alone editor, I found myself unable to cope with the relentlessness otherwise. Pardon my disruption of the Joycean stream of consciousness, which you are free to reassemble, of course.
Precisely because this is law school, narratives in which it is impossible to be effectual and have principles are of limited use. We need the draft in which having principles and making compromises are both parts of the ways in which we are lawyers, precisely because we can give effect to our principles. Otherwise we are office workers.
There are many ways I can think of to write 1,000 words about how to deal effectively, as a student trying to push back against technologies of unfreedom at school, with aspects of the system (like Canvas, or surveilled e-readings) or more systematically, by adapting your technology so as to give you more leverage There is an X, such that X% of the stuff you don't like can be avoided without having to make costly refusals. There is a Y, such that Y amount of knowledge would be gained in the course of learning how to subdue X% of your privacy problems that would leave you substantially more learned and effective overall, and more capable of shaping your life in practice and the world so as to add Z to the X% as you go.
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You are entitled to restrict access to your paper if you want to. But we all derive immense benefit from reading one another's work, and I hope you won't feel the need unless the subject matter is personal and its disclosure would be harmful or undesirable. |
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BrandonRosenbergFirstEssay 1 - 13 Oct 2023 - Main.BrandonRosenberg
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> > |
META TOPICPARENT | name="FirstEssay" |
- Day in the Life If I Told Everyone “F*** you”
-
- I wake up to my alarm clock, chiming in the classic “beep beep beep” manner. Although it bugs me, my choices of those are restricted to those which have little more functionality than making said sound at the proper time of day. If I knew how to program, I could probably find a way to wake up to a more relaxing sound, but that is outside of my skill set. I head to the lobby of my building and gather the newspaper waiting for me. I read through it as I eat my breakfast and drink my coffee. After I finish, I walk out of my building and see the people on their morning commutes, heading downtown to their offices. Unfortunately, I will not be joining them, as my position as a junior associate was given to a candidate much more responsive and willing to submit to the firm’s work monitoring systems. A pity, I think to myself. I walk north to campus, and watch as the students walk absentmindedly to their morning classes. They swipe into their respective buildings ready to sit through class, likely just to get some online shopping done while a professor talks at them. I had been one of them, until I failed out. However, I didn't fail out because I wasn’t smart enough, or didn’t try hard enough. I failed out because I vehemently refused to use the student monitoring system “Canvas” and had missed necessary assignments to my courses. Some professors, such as Professor Moglen, were willing to work with me on getting my work done outside of the usual processes, but most saw it as too much effort and gave me no options in the matter. As a result, I was unable to get enough credits to finish my degree, after all, Professor Moglen only taught so many classes. So, I turned back around and headed to my apartment. There, I did some reading and wrote about how screwed we were as a society. Unfortunately, my research abilities were significantly slighted by the constant account-making requirements that I saw as a breach into my personal affairs. Making fake accounts could only get me so far. With what I could scrape up, I finished my essay titled “Don’t You See Where We’re Headed” and sent it off to a litany of major newspapers and blog sites. I figured I’d have more luck with the latter. I went to call my girlfriend to let her know that I had finished it, and glumly remembered that she had left me. I thought about the last things she said to me, “You only talk to me on your terms! Why can’t I call or text YOU when I need to talk!” She had not been too pleased with my response, requiring privacy and preferring to chat in person, and walked away. I had heard through a friend she was seeing a new guy, assuredly someone who was much more accessible than myself. My friend was one of my few connections to the social world left. I used to have more, but the majority of them found it too troublesome to communicate with me over encrypted email or similar, low profile means. So, I emailed my family. They still love me, even though they were not at all shy in expressing their disappointment in my life choices. After a quick nap, I made dinner. I ate it and opened my book to pass the time before I got sleepy again. I headed upstairs. As I laid down in bed ready to drift off, I reflected on my day. Was it worth it, I thought? Sure, I was morally honest with myself and stood to my values. But what did it cost me? My job, my degree, my girlfriend, my friends. Sure, I could serve to be the inspiration for a few others to wake up to the surveillance state we could be heading towards. But was I happy? Would there be enough people like me out there to make a difference? I hoped so. If not, I had thrown it all away for nothing. Perhaps I could have gotten away with it. Perhaps people would have had no choice but to submit to my tenuous restrictions, if I had been incredibly good at my job, if I had been an incredibly passionate romantic, if I had been the perfect friend. But, I was just an average Joe, and there are many Joes out there willing to make people’s lives a lot easier, at the cost of their submission to Big Tech. As such there was no need for me. I fell asleep, resting easy knowing I was a man of principle.
It is strongly recommended that you include your outline in the body of your essay by using the outline as section titles. The headings below are there to remind you how section and subsection titles are formatted.
Day in the Life If I Told Everyone “F*** you”
-- By BrandonRosenberg - 13 Oct 2023
I wake up to my alarm clock, chiming in the classic “beep beep beep” manner. Although it bugs me, my choices of those are restricted to those which have little more functionality than making said sound at the proper time of day. If I knew how to program, I could probably find a way to wake up to a more relaxing sound, but that is outside of my skill set. I head to the lobby of my building and gather the newspaper waiting for me. I read through it as I eat my breakfast and drink my coffee. After I finish, I walk out of my building and see the people on their morning commutes, heading downtown to their offices. Unfortunately, I will not be joining them, as my position as a junior associate was given to a candidate much more responsive and willing to submit to the firm’s work monitoring systems. A pity, I think to myself. I walk north to campus, and watch as the students walk absentmindedly to their morning classes. They swipe into their respective buildings ready to sit through class, likely just to get some online shopping done while a professor talks at them. I had been one of them, until I failed out. However, I didn't fail out because I wasn’t smart enough, or didn’t try hard enough. I failed out because I vehemently refused to use the student monitoring system “Canvas” and had missed necessary assignments to my courses. Some professors, such as Professor Moglen, were willing to work with me on getting my work done outside of the usual processes, but most saw it as too much effort and gave me no options in the matter. As a result, I was unable to get enough credits to finish my degree, after all, Professor Moglen only taught so many classes. So, I turned back around and headed to my apartment. There, I did some reading and wrote about how screwed we were as a society. Unfortunately, my research abilities were significantly slighted by the constant account-making requirements that I saw as a breach into my personal affairs. Making fake accounts could only get me so far. With what I could scrape up, I finished my essay titled “Don’t You See Where We’re Headed” and sent it off to a litany of major newspapers and blog sites. I figured I’d have more luck with the latter. I went to call my girlfriend to let her know that I had finished it, and glumly remembered that she had left me. I thought about the last things she said to me, “You only talk to me on your terms! Why can’t I call or text YOU when I need to talk!” She had not been too pleased with my response, requiring privacy and preferring to chat in person, and walked away. I had heard through a friend she was seeing a new guy, assuredly someone who was much more accessible than myself. My friend was one of my few connections to the social world left. I used to have more, but the majority of them found it too troublesome to communicate with me over encrypted email or similar, low profile means. So, I emailed my family. They still love me, even though they were not at all shy in expressing their disappointment in my life choices. After a quick nap, I made dinner. I ate it and opened my book to pass the time before I got sleepy again. I headed upstairs. As I laid down in bed ready to drift off, I reflected on my day. Was it worth it, I thought? Sure, I was morally honest with myself and stood to my values. But what did it cost me? My job, my degree, my girlfriend, my friends. Sure, I could serve to be the inspiration for a few others to wake up to the surveillance state we could be heading towards. But was I happy? Would there be enough people like me out there to make a difference? I hoped so. If not, I had thrown it all away for nothing. Perhaps I could have gotten away with it. Perhaps people would have had no choice but to submit to my tenuous restrictions, if I had been incredibly good at my job, if I had been an incredibly passionate romantic, if I had been the perfect friend. But, I was just an average Joe, and there are many Joes out there willing to make people’s lives a lot easier, at the cost of their submission to Big Tech. As such there was no need for me. I fell asleep, resting easy knowing I was a man of principle.
You are entitled to restrict access to your paper if you want to. But we all derive immense benefit from reading one another's work, and I hope you won't feel the need unless the subject matter is personal and its disclosure would be harmful or undesirable.
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