Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Slide shows don't bore anymore
Christian Trejbal
Recent columns
- Radford University's president is overpaid
- The phantom parking shortage
- Republicans must wait until November
- Blacksburg renovates its farmers market
From the RoundTable blog
Mountain biker rides down a forest trail. The trees are still brown and barren. It must be cold; he's wearing a long-sleeve shirt under his jersey.
Visionaries for years have touted the Internet as a means of bringing together the world's diverse people in some kind of glowy digital multitude. There are so many ideas to share, and they will spread like fire through the wilds of cyberspace.
And they do, but this is not your older brother's Internet. Broadband and digital cameras flood cyberspace not with high concept but with the lives of real people doing normal things. Those pictures have more potential to break down cultural walls than any discourse on democracy, commentary about the latest episode of "Family Guy" or blogger's bloviating.
Asian couple smiles in the neon glow of a bar. She wears a red dress. He wears a grey shirt and jeans. They hoist their glasses to toast the photographer.
My online friend Wainstead works for myphotoalbum.com. It's a Web site where people can upload their digital photographs to share with friends and family.
One of the challenges with thousands of users posting about 175,000 photos every day is policing content. Porn is a big no-no. So is copyright infringement. That's where the crack page comes in.
There's a Web page out there that won't show up in a Google search, but if you know where to go and have the password, recently posted photos are there for the browsing, 100 at a time.
We call it the "crack page" because it is instantly addicting. It's voyeurism meets the neighborhood watch.
Wainstead enlisted our online clique to monitor the images and make sure nothing bad stays online for long. We're anonymous peeping toms, deputized to report violations of the terms of service agreement.
The crack page opens a window onto the world's subconscious, the momentary global gestalt.
Tan dog sleeps on a worn wooden deck, his legs in the air, stomach exposed. Does he dream of cats?
Before online photo sites, grainy slide shows and mammoth family photo albums were tools of torture. Nothing bores guests faster than pictures from last summer's trip to Luray Caverns. Nothing embarrasses teens faster than the shot of their bare, infant bottom shown to a date.
Oh, wasn't he cute?
Online photo collections should be just as uncomfortable, but they aren't. When you view a stranger's photos, they are a mystery. There's no narrative explanation, no personal history.
Nothing tells you what the young couple is doing in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Are they vacationing? Do they live there? It looks as if they are doing the tourist thing. She sure seems angry standing in front of the famous fish. Why did he make her go to Mexico? He should have known the hot sun would burn her pale shoulders. I sense breakup about a week after they get home.
Or not. The story is whatever you want.
Dark-haired mother holds her newborn close, peering into his sleepy eyes. Someone -- a nurse? -- stands by the side of the hospital bed.
A few thousand pictures later, the patterns emerge. Pets. Kids. Drunken outings to the bar. Nameless European streetscapes. Weddings. Births. The photos come from dozens of countries, but they are all the same.
Forget about national borders, religion and politics. People everywhere photograph themselves doing the same things. Skin colors change; oak trees give way to palms, but there's no real difference. When in Paris, everyone gets his picture taken in front of the Eiffel Tower.
The ideas are spreading online. Tank tops are in. Central and South America are hip vacation destinations. And sunglasses aren't as popular as they should be. The pictures don't lie.
Trio stands in front of the Philadelphia Phillies' ballpark. They wear Boston Red Sox baseball caps.
