Knowledge Disappears

If simulated experiences cause reality to disappear in a hyperreal universe, then what happens to situations such as job interviews which are, in many ways, simulated real experiences set up to gauge a sense of the real in terms of the character of a person? There is no real in these situations, interviewees are only presenting a limited fictional construction of themselves, missing out any points that they believe the interviewer does not want to hear. The interviewer is playing a role with a predetermined script (like a character in a play). The notion, that spontaneous reaction to scripted questions can reveal some sort of reality about the candidate is misguided. Not only does reality itself disappear within this simulation but all the interviewer is testing is a candidate's ability to improvise answers to particular questions. Granted, this improvisation will be rooted in the knowledge and understanding of the individual and therefore could test previously learned knowledge if the correct answers are posited. Of course then we get into pub quiz territory, where, to some extent, it is the luck of the draw, as to which questions get asked. The script essentially determines the candidate at the writing stage not at the interview stage. This means that the interviewer who creates the script (with their perception of what is important in relation to a specific position) is basically choosing the candidate who is most like themselves. Of course, this then removes any ability to create a "team" whose skills complement one another. So how does one respond to this problem? Does one pick the candidate who can't answer the questions that you pose? As a candidate, what approach can you take to maximise your employability. In my eyes, a good interviewer should ask you what music, literature and films that you like and then take you out drinking to see what happens to your personality after 6 pints of ale.

Of course, job interviews are not the only scenario where individuals construct simulations as a means of trying to find things out.Most scientific studies in some way involve simulation. Surely the whole fact that a situation is created as a means to study something, removes the reality of what is being studied? What then, does this mean about the results which are produced by this process. Statistics, themselves are manipulated by mathematical equations to transform raw data into a value that is a simulation of the raw data and therefore can be gauged against a specific theoretical model (another simulation)to gauge whether a perceived pattern is "real" or "imagined". I'm mean, I'm no philosopher of mathematics and I could have got this completely wrong but from my (admittedly limited) point of view I can't see any holes in this reasoning. Where does this leave knowledge as a whole?

Shameless Self-promotion

Sent these messages in the aim of trying to promote this fucking project.

Subject: YO!

Hey up.

How's it going?

Did I email you about the blogs I'm doing for my PhD.

It's at - www.nothingisntreal.blogspot.com

please also see linked blogs (see right hand side)

I'm trying to rake up some readers. Do you think this is newsworthy?


Hope yr well


Mark


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Subject: Re: YO!

Busy busy but good (except for job worries) - I may be putting a gig on
in Leeds next month, thanks for the blogs links, hope you're well
Best wishes

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Subject: PS

Having looked at the blog, I'm not sure the content is intrinsically of
any value on its own, though I haven't read it fully (!) but as part of
a concept it works, partly because it's a brilliant concept. Also, it's
very well designed - I like the look of it.
It's also effortlessly cool in a way I never am!
PS If I ever make modernmusicreview.com a working website - as opposed
to a museum - I would love you to write something conceptual about music
for it.


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Subject: PPS

It may be a news item for us - email your full details about who you
are, which school you went to, age, what you're doing, to our news
editor XXXXX at XXXXXXXXXX@ypn.co.uk

If you don't mention your XXXXXX past, he won't pass it onto me for XXXXXXXXX and it might get on a news page at some point.
That's what I recommend.


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So I send this out:


Subject: Nothing Isn't Real

Dear Mr XXXXXX

I'm a local Harrogatonian and PhD student at the University of Huddersfield undertaking research in the fields of Creative Writing and Art into the relaitonship between Fiction and Reality. This is being done primarily through a number of blogs (see www.nothingisntreal.blogspot.com and links to the right of the page) that is fictionalised retelling of my real life (if that makes sense). These blogs will gradually build into a novel that will be published by Collective Unconscious publishing in 2011

My reason for writing is that I was wondering if you'd be interested in running an article on my research. I'm hoping that people would like to get involved in this by telling me their stories that I can then interpret into this piece so it would be a call for "submissions" as it were and also to promote my art. Ideally I'd like to meet up with people and photograph them and then incorporate this with their story into the overall piece.

I've lived in the Harrogate area for most of my life and have, in the past, been involved with Harrogate Theatre as both a writer and performer. I went to the Grammar School before studying a BSc Zoology at Cardiff University and an MA in Creative Writing at Newcastle University. I currently lecture for the Open University and for the University of Bradford.


I'd be really greatful if you would consider giving my work a mention.


Kindest Regards


Mark Ellis.


(p.s. This letter has now been included into the blog. Please don't let this scare you - it's all part of the overall narrative. You are involved now as well)

Camping in Keld / Stories from Muker

I seem to be using this page as a means of collecting ideas before I dramatise them. We went camping this weekend with a new 10 man tent that we hadn't put up before so the sub-gale-force winds and hale that descended on us whilst we were trying to put the thing up were obviously a welcome assistance. It was fucking freezing that night so we ended up packing up and coming home. I'm starting to think whether camping is ever any good. Whilst I hate to think I could be defeated by a bit of cold, wind and rain I do wonder where the enjoyment is in freezing your arse off in the night then waking up in some kind of warm / cold sweat (a phenomenon unique to camping). This is a direct sign of getting old.

Anyway that's not the point.

we went for a bite to eat when we left in the Farmer's Arms in a village called Muker
near Richmond. This elderly couple sat next to us introduce themselves and start telling us stories about their time in the Yorkshire Dales, I meant to get a photo of them but wasn't quite sure how to ask.

Anyway a few notes on their stories.
1. Involved an icy stile, a hill and a tank full of sheep dip at the bottom. then it involved changing in the cold, going back to the house and having to wash three times before the smell went away.

2. Involved a field with a pig the size of two tables in it and a trained opera singer who went up and tickled it under the chin when the rest of the party jumped the fence to avoid the pig.

3. Involved the opera singer doing a turn in a restaurant and everybody declaring that it was the best night they'd had.

4. Involved her having tea at the Dorchester and spending £35 on three drinks, morning coffee is cheap at £14 for three apparently. He didn't like London she did and went with her twin sister and friend once a year that they saved for.

I'm not sure how all these stories fit together but I'm going to have a go at dramatising them asap.

I like the idea of collecting stories from individuals. There's a boating pool in the park near our house and you get these old men with their fancy model boats. I reckon they'd have some stories to tell.

Party in Nottingham.

So my response to the breakdown of the whole fucking Helpline things is to engage in three days solid boozing in honour of by friend's birthday in Nottingham. Anyway, I might come back to this, however on the final day when I'm feeling rather paranoid and just want to leave, I'm sat in the garden with this guy who wants to be a Conservative MP (he's disappeared into the garden to write a speech). My friend has these chickens in her garden for some fucking reason, as they're not laying any eggs and we're talking about the chickens and this project. Anyway, MP2B (and I genuinely hope that this guy becomes an MP because he seemed to have a good heart (though I suspect by the time he's been through the Tory personality mincer (all political parties have one) that he's not going to be this genuine))) gets pretty excited about the whole idea of what I'm doing and basically encapsulated the whole premise of this in one line (bloody politicians):

"If I were in a great novel, what would I be do today?" or maybe "What would I be doing today if I were the subject of a great novel?" - clearly I can't put it as well as he did.

I don't know what we said about the chickens.

Helpline

I'm really fucked off about how this whole thing's come off. I mean, it seemed like a good idea, you know? You set up an experiment and run it, collect some data and analyse it. That's how it works in science. I guess working with humans is more difficult. Wasn't to expect that Jill would freak out about the whole balloon / cat thing. In retrospect I'd say I'm pretty lucky she wasn't one of those people with a fucking balloon phobia. I hear the cat's absolutely fine by the way. In fact Karen who was the actress I employed to play the role of the weird old lady (we didn't give her a name)said that she didn't even perceive there to be a problem so I don't know what Jill was worrying about really. It's weird because I kind of perceived this old lady to be something terrifying like the girl out of the ring, kind of straggley hair and all that where's as Karen obviously played her much more straight. Maybe it's Karen's fault that Jill got run over. Anyway it's lucky she didn't ring the RSPCA. I guess in a way it's lucky she's not working with us any more as well. Clearly a fucking liability. My only concern is that I only got one run through of the experiment which makes it completely useless. At least I have Jill's response recorded and the balloon she brought back with her. Fuck knows what I'm going to do with it though. Also annoyingly, we didn't get the video sorted out in time so it's just on a mp3 recording which. I'll find some use for it, I guess. Reverie's pissing me off as well (If you're reading this then yes I am doing as I promised and being honest). I mean, she doesn't seem to accept responsibility for getting on-board Jill in the first place. If she'd just kept her nose out then the whole thing would have just flopped and Jill wouldn't be lying there in hospital. Don't know what I'm going to do now, well I've got a few ideas but I need to make sure the next one doesn't kill somebody.