Apple’s Guided Tour to Using the First Macintosh (1984)

“Smart­phones and lap­tops seem so ubiq­ui­tous to us all,” writes expe­ri­ence design­er Jin­soo An. “But in real­i­ty, the ubiq­ui­tous­ness we expe­ri­ence every day is based on a series of learned behav­iors. Some­one once said that, ‘The only intu­itive inter­face is the nip­ple. Every­thing else is learned.’ ” This, he points out, holds for the sim­ple mag­a­zine as much as it does for the com­put­er mouse — a device which cer­tain gen­er­a­tions use even more intu­itive­ly than they do any­thing involv­ing the print­ed word. But, many com­put­er users found the mouse, just a few years before it achieved ubiq­ui­ty, hard­ly intu­itive at all. “If you can point, you can use a Mac­in­tosh,” insist­ed an ear­ly Apple ad for that inno­v­a­tive desk­top com­put­er.

If, con­vinced, you went on to buy a Mac of your own, and you received with it a print­ed man­u­al includ­ing a sec­tion explain­ing the mechan­ics of mouse usage. “Every move you make with the mouse moves the point­er in exact­ly the same way,” goes one of its sen­tences that would now seem com­i­cal­ly unnec­es­sary. “Usu­al­ly the point­er is shaped like an arrow, but it changes shape depend­ing on what you’re doing.“And for those who found the book too intim­i­dat­ing, Apple also includ­ed a cas­sette tape con­tain­ing a pro­duc­tion called “A Guid­ed Tour of Mac­in­tosh,” in which friend­ly voic­es explain such impor­tant sub­jects as “Mou­s­ing Around,” “What’s the Find­er?,” and “Why Do I Have Win­dows?” to a sound­track by artists from the pow­er­house new-age music label Wyn­d­ham Hill.

An’s post includes the audio of this tech­no-edu­ca­tion­al jour­ney, and at the top of the post you can watch it syn­chro­nized with video of the accom­pa­ny­ing appli­ca­tion that came onboard the com­put­er. We can all have a good laugh at this sort of thing now that we’ve ful­ly inter­nal­ized once-con­fus­ing con­cepts like win­dows, the find­er, and the mouse — but isn’t it more star­tling, in this era when so few peo­ple even con­sid­er read­ing man­u­als that many com­pa­nies seem to have stopped print­ing them entire­ly, to imag­ine any­one, before they dare use their new com­put­er, pop­ping in a tape?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Steve Jobs Demos the First Mac­in­tosh in 1984

Hunter S. Thompson’s Edgy 1990s Com­mer­cial for Apple’s Mac­in­tosh Com­put­er

Rid­ley Scott Talks About Mak­ing Apple’s Land­mark “1984” Com­mer­cial, Aired 30 Years Ago on Super Bowl Sun­day

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Play Chess Against the Ghost of Marcel Duchamp: A Free Online Chess Game

Ear­li­er this year, Col­in Mar­shall told you how “Chess has obsessed many of humanity’s finest minds over cen­turies and cen­turies and Mar­cel Duchamp seems to have shown lit­tle resis­tance to its intel­lec­tu­al and aes­thet­ic pull.” His pas­sion for the game (which he describes above) led him to design a now icon­ic Art Deco chess set, to print an array of chess tour­na­ment posters, and to become a pret­ty adept chess play­er him­self, even­tu­al­ly earn­ing the title of “grand mas­ter” as a result. In a pret­ty neat project, Scott Kil­dall has looked back at records of Ducham­p’s chess match­es and cre­at­ed a com­put­er pro­gram that lets you play against a “Duchampian ghost.” Just click here, and then click on the chess piece you want to move. It will turn green, and then you can move it with your trackpad/mouse. Enjoy.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Free 700-Page Chess Man­u­al Explains 1,000 Chess Tac­tics in Plain Eng­lish

Clay­ma­tion Film Recre­ates His­toric Chess Match Immor­tal­ized in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey

A Human Chess Match Gets Played in Leningrad, 1924

Man Ray Designs a Supreme­ly Ele­gant, Geo­met­ric Chess Set in 1920 (and It’s Now Re-Issued for the Rest of Us)

Play Chess Against the Ghost of Mar­cel Duchamp: A Free Online Chess Game

Watch Bill Gates Lose a Chess Match in 79 Sec­onds to the New World Chess Cham­pi­on Mag­nus Carlsen

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A Computer Gets Delivered in 1957: Great Moments in Schlepping History

delivering-an-elliott-405-computer-in-1957-black-and-white-norwich

Pho­to­graph via Nor­folk Record Office

Once upon a time, com­put­ers with less horse­pow­er than your mobile phone, were big. Real big. How big? This big.

From the Nor­folk Record Office comes a descrip­tion of the pho­to you see above:

Nor­wich City Council’s first com­put­er, being deliv­ered to the City Treasurer’s Depart­ment in Bethel Street, Nor­wich in 1957. The City of Nor­wich, and its for­ward-think­ing Trea­sur­er, Mr A.J. Barnard, were pio­neers in the appli­ca­tion of com­put­er tech­nol­o­gy to the work of UK local author­i­ties and busi­ness­es. In 1953–4, Mr Barnard and his team began look­ing for an elec­tron­ic sys­tem to han­dle its rates and pay­roll. They began dis­cus­sions with Elliott Broth­ers of Lon­don in 1955, and the City Coun­cil ordered the first Elliott 405 com­put­er from them in Jan­u­ary 1956. It was deliv­ered to City Hall in Feb­ru­ary 1957 and became oper­a­tional in April 1957. The event was cel­e­brat­ed by a demon­stra­tion of the machine in front of the Lord May­or of Nor­wich and the press on 3 April 1957.

For more vin­tage moments in com­put­ing, please enjoy some of the “relat­eds” below.

via Twist­ed Sifter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch the World’s Old­est Work­ing Dig­i­tal Com­put­er — the 1951 Har­well Deka­tron — Get Fired Up Again

A Short His­to­ry of Roman­ian Com­put­ing: From 1961 to 1989

“They Were There” — Errol Mor­ris Final­ly Directs a Film for IBM

The Inter­net Arcade Lets You Play 900 Vin­tage Video Games in Your Web Brows­er (Free)

Free Online Com­put­er Sci­ence Cours­es

Harvard’s Free Com­put­er Sci­ence Course Teach­es You to Code in 12 Weeks

This is Your Brain on Jazz Improvisation: The Neuroscience of Creativity

It’s clear that ama­teur sax­o­phon­ist and Johns Hop­kins sur­geon Charles Limb has an abid­ing inter­est in the neu­ro­science of cre­ativ­i­ty.

He’s also an unabashed fan­boy. I’ll bet the spir­it of sci­en­tif­ic inquiry is not the only moti­vat­ing fac­tor behind this jazz fan’s exper­i­ments on jazz impro­vis­ers.

Sure, he has them play spon­ta­neous vari­a­tions on a MIDI key­board in a func­tion­al MRI tube in order to study blood oxy­gen lev­els in var­i­ous parts of their brains.

But he also gets to hang out in the technologist’s booth, ”trad­ing fours” with cap­tive musi­cian Mike Pope, whom he describes in his TED Talk, above, as “one of the world’s best bassists and a fan­tas­tic piano play­er.”

Is this an exper­i­ment or a DIY fan­ta­sy camp?

I’m not sure one needs thou­sands of dol­lars’ worth of med­ical equip­ment to con­clude that impro­vi­sa­tion thrives when the inner crit­ic is ban­ished. But that’s exact­ly what Dr. Limb’s find­ings reveal. Activ­i­ty in the lat­er­al pre­frontal cor­tex, an area asso­ci­at­ed with self-mon­i­tor­ing, dropped dra­mat­i­cal­ly, while that in the medi­al pre­frontal cortex—a struc­ture asso­ci­at­ed with the self-expression—spiked.

The same thing hap­pened when a rap­per named Emmanuelle was in the tube, free-styling on a set of prompts con­tained in a rhyme Dr. Limb com­posed for the occa­sion:

My pas­sion’s not fash­ion, you can see how I’m dressed 

Psy­cho­path­ic words in my head appear

Whis­per these lyrics only I can hear

The art of dis­cov­er­ing and that which is hov­er­ing 

Inside the mind of those uncon­fined 

All of these words keep pour­ing out like rain 

I need a mad sci­en­tist to check my brain 

(For me, the best part of the TED Talk was when a ner­vous Dr. Limb game­ly per­formed his rap for the crowd, the lyrics pro­ject­ed on a giant screen in case they want­ed to chime in. What I wouldn’t give to have a scan of his brain in this moment…)

The ulti­mate val­ue of Dr. Limb’s research remains to be seen. If noth­ing else, we may get a bit more insight into the work­ings of this most mys­te­ri­ous of organs. But I was struck by a remark he made in an inter­view with Abil­i­ty, a mag­a­zine focus­ing on health, dis­abil­i­ty and human poten­tial:

At some point, every musi­cian grap­ples with whether they’re going to pur­sue it as a pro­fes­sion, or do some­thing else to make a liv­ing. Some musi­cians absolute­ly feel that there’s no oth­er road for them. And then there are oth­er peo­ple, like me, who could have gone into music, but I didn’t feel like I deserved to. And what I mean by that is I wasn’t will­ing to suf­fer for my art. You have to have the con­vic­tion, that you can ride out the lows, to be a real­ly suc­cess­ful musi­cian.

Per­haps in the future, those with the tem­pera­ment for a career in impro­vi­sa­tion­al jazz will use an fMRI to dou­ble check that their deoxy­he­mo­glo­bin con­cen­tra­tions are also up to the task.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Free Online Psy­chol­o­gy & Neu­ro­science Cours­es

Why We Love Rep­e­ti­tion in Music: Explained in a New TED-Ed Ani­ma­tion

Play­ing an Instru­ment Is a Great Work­out For Your Brain: New Ani­ma­tion Explains Why

Philoso­pher Jacques Der­ri­da Inter­views Jazz Leg­end Ornette Cole­man: Talk Impro­vi­sa­tion, Lan­guage & Racism (1997)

Son­ny Rollins Describes How 50 Years of Prac­tic­ing Yoga Made Him a Bet­ter Musi­cian

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, home­school­er, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. She stud­ied com­e­dy impro­vi­sa­tion with Del Close and plays the piano poor­ly. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Read Free Digital Art Catalogues from 9 World-Class Museums, Thanks to the Pioneering Getty Foundation

OSCI image ipad

We’ve pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured the var­i­ous pio­neer­ing efforts of The Getty — from free­ing 4,600 high-res­o­lu­tion art images (and then 77,000 more) into the pub­lic domain, to dig­i­tal­ly releas­ing over 250 art books. Now they’ve put their minds to those rare, beau­ti­ful, and high­ly edi­fy­ing spec­i­mens known as art cat­a­logues. “Based on metic­u­lous research, these cat­a­logues make avail­able detailed infor­ma­tion about the indi­vid­ual works in a muse­um’s col­lec­tion, ensur­ing the con­tents a place in art his­to­ry,” announces their site. “Yet print­ed vol­umes are cost­ly to pro­duce and dif­fi­cult to update reg­u­lar­ly; their poten­tial con­tent often exceeds allot­ted space. One could say they are like thor­ough­bred hors­es con­fined to stock pens.” But now the Get­ty has offered a solu­tion in the form of the Online Schol­ar­ly Cat­a­logue Ini­tia­tive (OCSI), cre­at­ing an online plat­form for free cat­a­logues — and not just the Get­ty’s, but those of any art insti­tu­tion.

renoir catalogue

 

You can access the first set of art cat­a­logues released under the OSCI ini­tia­tive here. As you can see, where the Get­ty goes, oth­er insti­tu­tions fol­low: The Art Insti­tute of Chica­go has released cat­a­logues on the work of Mon­et and Renoir. The Smith­son­ian Insti­tu­tion’s Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sack­ler Gallery has a cat­a­logue on The World of the Japan­ese Illus­trat­ed Book, which sits nice­ly along­side LAC­MA’s cat­a­logue on South­east Asian Art. Oth­er titles include Dutch Paint­ings of the Sev­en­teenth Cen­tu­ry from the Nation­al Gallery of Art; The Rauschen­berg Research Project from SFMOMA; Dis­cov­er the Chi­nese Paint­ing & Cal­lig­ra­phy Col­lec­tion at the Seat­tle Art Muse­um; The Tates’s The Cam­den Town Group in Con­text; and the Liv­ing Col­lec­tions Cat­a­logue from the Walk­er Art Cen­ter.

japanese illustrated books

You can learn more about the project, its devel­op­ment, and its poten­tial in the short Get­ty video, “The Future of Dig­i­tal Pub­lish­ing in Muse­ums.” Do note that, while you can, of course, view this wealth of cat­a­logues on a com­put­er, you’ll want to use a tablet for the opti­mized expe­ri­ence. And the more the OCSI ini­tia­tive devel­ops, the rich­er a read­ing expe­ri­ence you’ll have on any device; it not only pro­vides users detailed art images, but also the options to “over­lay them with con­ser­va­tion doc­u­men­ta­tion, dis­cov­er schol­ar­ly essays in easy-to-read for­mats, take notes in the mar­gins that can be stored for lat­er use, and export cita­tions to their desk­tops.” And thus yet anoth­er unex­pect­ed ben­e­fit of the inter­net emerges: we are all art his­to­ri­ans now.

1045_Tate_OSCI_iphone

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Get­ty Puts 4600 Art Images Into the Pub­lic Domain (and There’s More to Come)

The Get­ty Adds Anoth­er 77,000 Images to its Open Con­tent Archive

Down­load Over 250 Free Art Books From the Get­ty Muse­um

LA Coun­ty Muse­um Makes 20,000 Artis­tic Images Avail­able for Free Down­load

The Rijksmu­se­um Puts 125,000 Dutch Mas­ter­pieces Online, and Lets You Remix Its Art

Art.sy Rolls Out Huge Archive of Fine-Art Images and an Intel­li­gent Art Appre­ci­a­tion Guide

Free: The Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art and the Guggen­heim Offer 474 Free Art Books Online

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Charles & Ray Eames’ A Communications Primer Explains the Key to Clear Communication in the Modern Age (1953)

You might think that a movie about infor­ma­tion from 1953 couldn’t pos­si­bly be rel­e­vant in the age of iPhone apps and the Inter­net but you’d be wrong. A Com­mu­ni­ca­tions Primer, direct­ed by that pow­er cou­ple of design Charles and Ray Eames, might refer to some hope­less­ly quaint tech­nol­o­gy – com­put­er punch cards, for instance – but the under­ly­ing ideas are as cur­rent as any­thing you’re like­ly to see at a TED talk. You can watch it above.

In fact, the film made for IBM was the result of the first ever mul­ti-media pre­sen­ta­tions that Charles Eames devel­oped for the Uni­ver­si­ty of Geor­gia and UCLA. Using slides, music, nar­ra­tion and film, Eames broke down some ele­men­tal aspects of com­mu­ni­ca­tions for the audi­ence. Cen­tral to the film is an input/output dia­gram that was laid out by Claude Shan­non, the father of infor­ma­tion the­o­ry, in his 1949 book, The Math­e­mat­i­cal The­o­ry of Com­mu­ni­ca­tion. As the per­haps over­ly sooth­ing nar­ra­tor intones, any mes­sage is trans­mit­ted by a sig­nal through a chan­nel to its receiv­er. While in the chan­nel, the sig­nal is altered and degrad­ed by noise. The key to effec­tive com­mu­ni­ca­tion is to reduce “noise” (con­strued broad­ly) that inter­feres with the mes­sage and to gen­er­al­ly sim­pli­fy things.

The issue of sig­nal vs noise is prob­a­bly more rel­e­vant now in this age of per­pet­u­al dis­trac­tion than it was dur­ing the Eisen­how­er admin­is­tra­tion. Every email, text mes­sage or Buz­zfeed arti­cle seen indi­vid­u­al­ly is clear­ly a sig­nal. Yet for some­one try­ing to work, say on an arti­cle about a short film by Charles and Ray Eames, they are def­i­nite­ly noise.

The Eames use the terms “sig­nal,” “noise,” and “com­mu­ni­ca­tion” quite broad­ly. Not only do they use these terms to describe, say, a radio broad­cast or a mes­sage being relayed by Morse code but also the cre­ation of archi­tec­ture, design and even visu­al art.

The source of a paint­ing is the mind and expe­ri­ence of the painter. Mes­sage? His con­cept of a par­tic­u­lar paint­ing. Trans­mit­ter? His tal­ent and tech­nique. Sig­nal? The paint­ing itself. Receiv­er? All the eyes and ner­vous sys­tems and pre­vi­ous con­di­tion­ing of those who see the paint­ing. Des­ti­na­tion? Their minds, their emo­tions, their expe­ri­ence. Now in this case, the noise that tends to dis­rupt the sig­nal can take many forms. It can be the qual­i­ty of the light. The col­or of the light. The prej­u­dices of the view­er. The idio­syn­crasies of the painter.

Of course, a paint­ing — or a poem, or a film by Andrei Tarkovsky — is a dif­fer­ent kind of sig­nal than an email. It’s mes­sage is mul­ti­lay­ered and mul­ti­va­lent. And while a gen­er­a­tion of cul­tur­al the­o­rists would no doubt chafe at Eames’s reduc­tive, Mod­ernist view of art, it is still inter­est­ing to think of a paint­ing in the same man­ner as smoke sig­nals.

The film’s nar­ra­tor con­tin­ues:

But besides noise, there are oth­er fac­tors that can keep infor­ma­tion from reach­ing its des­ti­na­tion in tact. The back­ground and con­di­tion­ing of the receiv­ing appa­ra­tus may so dif­fer from that of the trans­mit­ter that it may be impos­si­ble for the receiv­er to pick up the sig­nal with­out dis­tor­tion.

That’s about as good a descrip­tion of cable new pun­dits as I’ve ever seen.

A Com­mu­ni­ca­tions Primer will be added to our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Design­ers Charles & Ray Eames Cre­ate a Pro­mo­tion­al Film for the Ground­break­ing Polaroid SX-70 Instant Cam­era (1972)

Charles & Ray Eames’ Icon­ic Film Pow­ers of Ten (1977) and the Less­er-Known Pro­to­type from 1968

Charles and Ray Eames’ Pow­ers of Ten: The Clas­sic Film Re-Imag­ined By 40 Artists

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrow. And check out his blog Veep­to­pus, fea­tur­ing lots of pic­tures of vice pres­i­dents with octo­pus­es on their heads.  The Veep­to­pus store is here.

Miranda July’s Quirky Film Presents Somebody, the New App That Connects Strangers in the Real World

Hav­ing owned an iPhone for all of one month, I’m still a bit leery of all it can pur­port­ed­ly do for me. Con­ve­nience is great, but I’m not sure I’m ready to cede con­trol of all the lit­tle tasks, chal­lenges, and puz­zles my own imper­fect brain has been han­dling more or less well for near­ly half a cen­tu­ry.

I don’t hate blun­der­ing. And I real­ly like inter­act­ing with librar­i­ans, local res­i­dents, and strangers who might be will­ing to use my cam­era to take a group pho­to in a restau­rant or scenic loca­tion. 

Film­mak­er Miran­da July’s just released Some­body is, I sus­pect, some­thing of a niche app.

If you cringe at the idea of flash mobs, Improv Every­where, and audi­ence inter­ac­tive the­ater, it is most def­i­nite­ly not for you. 

It’s absolute­ly per­fect for me (or will be once I get up to speed on my touch­screen.)

Basi­cal­ly, you take a self­ie, cre­ate a pro­file, and wait for a stranger to select you to deliv­er a live mes­sage as his or her proxy. In addi­tion to trawl­ing the area for the des­ig­nat­ed recip­i­ent, you may be called upon to weep, hug, or get on your knees to get that mes­sage across.

Will you make a new friend? Prob­a­bly not, but you will def­i­nite­ly share a moment.

And because no good deed goes unre­ward­ed, your per­for­mance will be open to the vagaries of cus­tomer review, a humil­i­a­tion July does not shy from in the pro­mo­tion­al video above.

Is this app for real?

Yes, espe­cial­ly if you live in LA, New York, or anoth­er cul­tur­al­ly rich Some­body hotspot.

If you don’t—or if receiv­ing a mes­sage deliv­ered, in all like­li­hood, by a tech savvy hip­ster, makes your flesh crawl—you can still enjoy the film as a com­ment on our dig­i­tal exis­tence, as well as a reflec­tion of July’s ongo­ing desire to con­nect.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Miran­da July’s Short Film on Avoid­ing the Pit­falls of Pro­cras­ti­na­tion

Learn to Make But­tons with Film­mak­er Miran­da July

David Sedaris Reads You a Sto­ry By Miran­da July

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, home­school­er, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Cyberpunk: 1990 Documentary Featuring William Gibson & Timothy Leary Introduces the Cyberpunk Culture

“High tech and low life”: nev­er have I heard a lit­er­ary genre so ele­gant­ly encap­su­lat­ed. I repeat it when­ev­er a friend who finds out I enjoy read­ing cyber­punk nov­els — or watch­ing cyber­punk movies, or play­ing cyber­punk video games — asks what “cyber­punk” actu­al­ly means. We’ve all heard the word thrown around since the mid-1980s, and I seem to recall hear­ing it sev­er­al times a day in the 1990s, when the devel­op­ment of the inter­net and its asso­ci­at­ed pieces of per­son­al tech­nol­o­gy hit the accel­er­a­tor hard. At the dawn of that decade, out came Cyber­punk, a primer on the epony­mous move­ment in not just lit­er­a­ture, film, and com­put­ers, but music, fash­ion, crime, pun­ish­ment, and med­i­cine as well. That time saw tech­nol­o­gy devel­op in such a way as to empow­er less gov­ern­ments, cor­po­ra­tions, and oth­er insti­tu­tions than indi­vid­ual peo­ple: vir­tu­ous peo­ple, sketchy peo­ple, every­day peo­ple, and that favorite cyber­punk char­ac­ter type, the “gen­tle­man-los­er.”

We recent­ly fea­tured No Maps for These Ter­ri­to­ries, the 2000 doc­u­men­tary star­ring William Gib­son, author of nov­els like Neu­ro­mancer, Idoru, and Pat­tern Recog­ni­tion and the writer most close­ly asso­ci­at­ed with the cyber­punk move­ment. Cyber­punk describes him, a decade ear­li­er, as  “the man who may be said to have start­ed it all,” and here he shares insights on how the lit­er­ary form he pio­neered made pos­si­ble styl­is­tic devel­op­ment with­in and the impor­ta­tion of ele­ments of the wider lit­er­ary and artis­tic world into the reac­tionary “gold­en ghet­to” of the sci­ence-fic­tion indus­try. We also hear, amid a far­ra­go of glossy, flam­boy­ant­ly arti­fi­cial ear­ly-1990s com­put­er ani­ma­tion, from a num­ber of cyber­punk-inclined artists, musi­cians, sci­en­tists, and hack­ers.

This line­up includes psy­chol­o­gist, LSD enthu­si­ast, and Neu­ro­mancePC game mas­ter­mind Tim­o­thy Leary, in some sense a prog­en­i­tor of this whole cul­ture of self-enhance­ment through tech­nol­o­gy. How has all this worked out in the near-quar­ter-cen­tu­ry since? It depends on whether one of Gib­son’s dark­er pre­dic­tions aired here will come true: if things go wrong, he says, the future could in real­i­ty end up not as a grand per­son­al empow­er­ment but as “a very expen­sive Amer­i­can tele­vi­sion com­mer­cial inject­ed direct­ly into your cor­tex.” For­tu­nate­ly for cyber­punks the world over, we haven’t got there yet. Quite.

(And if this doc­u­men­tary gets you want­i­ng to jump into cyber­punk lit­er­a­ture, you could do worse than start­ing with Rudy Ruck­er’s Ware Tetral­o­gy, two of whose books won the Philip K. Dick Award for best nov­el, all of which come with an intro­duc­tion by Gib­son, now avail­able free online.)

Cyber­punk will be added to our col­lec­tion, 285 Free Doc­u­men­taries Online, part of our larg­er col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Take a Road Trip with Cyber­space Vision­ary William Gib­son, Watch No Maps for These Ter­ri­to­ries (2000)

Tim­o­thy Leary Plans a Neu­ro­mancer Video Game, with Art by Kei­th Har­ing, Music by Devo & Cameos by David Byrne

William Gib­son, Father of Cyber­punk, Reads New Nov­el in Sec­ond Life

What’s the Inter­net? That’s So 1994…

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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