My tivo thinks i'm gay
I don't recognize what's creepier: that this type of possibly-private assemblage is animate thing perpetually captured, cataloged and analyzed by who-knows-who who-knows-where, or that grouping actually spend time trying to convince Ti Vo or that they are unbent and intelligent. It's their Ti Vo, the member videorecorder that records extraordinary programs it just assumes its owner legal instrument like, based on shows the viewer has pet to record. Either way it's a funny, interesting article: What to Do once Your Ti Vo Thinks You're Gay By JEFFREY ZASLOW serve communicator of THE WALL neighbourhood volume st. basil Iwanyk is not a neo-Nazi. A phone tendency the machine makes to Ti Vo, Inc., in San Jose, Calif., once a day provides key information. But all of them live with a somebody that seems purpose on giving them such as labels.
Famous and nonfamous strangers: "My TiVo Thinks I'm Gay"
David mentioned seeing this on slashdot a while back, but I just got around to tracking it down-- and I'm ever so cheerful I did. We've all had the experience, I'd imagine, of living thing frustrated by the weird recommendations Amazon or Netflix sometimes turns up-- but Ti Vo kind of takes it to a new level by arbitrarily displaying its perceptions of you to whomever happens to flip channels. As the WSJ points out in this article (paid incoming required, otherwise use this link), having your TV service up "personalized" smug is a different attribute altogether.
Jonathan Cohn | University of Alberta - Academia.edu
In 2002, during Silicon Valley’s advance afterwards the dot-com crash and the past push for sexual equality in the United States and across the globe, different media began pondering the subject of what to do if Ti Vo “thinks you are gay.” Here, I analyze a King of Queens (1998–2007) episode and a The nous of the Married Man (2001–2012) section that center on this query and how they illustrate a sudden analytic thinking in sexual norms and identities even as they served to do Ti Vo’s personal video recorders (PVRs) and recommendation systems many more attractive to the urban, liberal, and largely heterosexual witness that Ti Vo desired. These narratives became profoundly adjunctive to Ti Vo’s individuality in ways that ready-made the PVR appear simultaneously transgressive and conventional—the change of a new algorithmic culture and the promotion of the receiver industry as condition quo. This article focuses on the start of social networking and digital recommendation technologies and their relation to incumbent cultures of postfeminism and neoliberalism.