To sell, give, administer, transport, send, deliver or distribute a prohibited substance or prohibited method to an athlete a subject either directly or through one or more third parties, but excluding the sale or distribution (by medical personnel or by persons other than an athlete's a subject's support personnel) of a prohibited substance for genuine and legal therapeutic purposes.

We shall control the parameters and flows of a state-sponsored pharmaceutical and biotechnology program. And we, the medico-scientific apparatus, shall determine what is genuine and legal therapeutic purpose.

No, the irony that the word "nomad" appears here on a shoe produced by one of the two most powerful athletic footwear companies on the planet is not lost. Nonetheless, let us temporarily try to reclaim the sign:

The nomad has a territory; he follows customary paths; he goes from one point to another; he is not ignorant of points (water points, dwelling points, assembly points, etc.) But the question is what in nomad life is a principle and only a consequence. To begin with, although the points determine paths, they are strictly subordinated to the paths they determine, the reverse of what happens with the sedentary. … A path is always between two points, but the in-between has taken on all the consistency and enjoys both an autonomy and a direction of its own. The life of the nomad is the intermezzo (Deleuze and Guattari, 1987, p.380).

Selection of athletes subjects for testing where specific athletes subjects or groups of athletes subjects are selected on a non-random basis for testing at a specified time.

As videogame controllers become more sophisticated, there emerges a "gamer envy" in those who do not possess the physical skills to play, nor perhaps the discretionary time required to summit the steep learning curve, and thus a cultural divide is created between those who possess this physicality and those who do not. Clearly the desire is for interfaces that more naturally approach everyday body movements, with the caveat that these movements can then be hyperrealized mathematically in the game environment via kinaesthetic wormhole. In this sense, Virilio's prediction (in Open Sky) of the telematic datasuit seems prescient.

But for a critical theorist so knowledgeable about speed, light, and the vision machine, it is quite surprising that he could not follow his own logic to the limit and realize that the datasuit could be dematerialized completely.

With the EyeToy, it is light that takes the gamer and makes of it a metabolic vehicle in its own right. The EyeToy (as well as later devices such as the Xbox Live Vision and PlayStation Eye) is a color digital camera device, similar to a webcam, that uses computer vision to process images taken by the camera, allowing players to become an avatar in the game environment and interact using body motions.

We thus witness a progression: from the mechanical dance of the puppeteer's wooden frames and strings, with its cognate "problem" of the strings' tensile properties; to the paddle used in early videogame consoles, a direct descendant of the knob-tweaking required to operate the Tennis for Two oscilloscope at Brookhaven National Laboratory that offers one line of movement in virtual space; to the wired joystick, with its digital connection to the game console and problem of plastic and wire fatigue at key joints; to the wireless controller, like the Sixaxis (traditional-style controller neutered of wire) or Wii (kinaesthetic gyroscope), with its dematerialization of the umbilicus and problem of electromagnetic spectrum connectivity and interference; to the EyeToy and its problem of light wave interference and colour spectrum noise.

Perhaps Virilio is correct after all: the dematerialized interface of light is a unidirectional interface, representing the body and its kinaesthetic activity in virtual space with no corresponding haptic feedback. The sense of touch is folded into the sense of sight for representational purposes and does not make a return: the body shirks its tactile burden. The hypothetical datasuit of Virilio, on the other hand, is a bidirectional interface that leverages the haptic to help reorient the body in the vertigo-inducing non-space of the data-network.

But perhaps Virilio is wrong after all: there is no need for this feedback dimension to be simulated to the skin (and sympathetic nervous system) by a datasuit so that a "real" message may then be transmitted to the central nervous system, when instead it is possible to just simulate the message directly to the central nervous system. So long as the datasuit (or other controller) ports into the nervous system for feedback purposes its potential as an input device isn't negated in advance. Tactile feedback thus becomes a problem in communications engineering, of jamming the signals emanating from the skin so that a contradictory message may be injected into the channel.

Datasuit or no, one thing seems certain: biological disinformation will become central to the mediated leisure society.

Information provided by the athlete subject or a representative nominated by the athlete subject which details the athlete’s subject's location on a daily basis in order to enable testing.

"[The] play between nation and self is a unique one, made further complex by the fact that one's everyday surroundings in China are literally constantly changing. Urban cities swell and fluctuate at rates that make a mockery of any attempts to map the environment, and chai (?), the graffiti'd character that marks buildings destined for demolition, emerges everywhere, competing with the Olympic rings for the place of official city emblem. … Whole districts of Beijing undergo renovation and become unrecognizable in the course of a few months." — Elaine Ho, Chan Studio

<!–a series on antony gormley and the origin of "tactile burden", in no particular order–>

A recurring theme in Gormley's work is the notion of the (surveillant) gaze, which makes sense given his interest in the body and the architecture of the city. The gaze is nowhere more apparent than in one of his most recent sculptures, Hatch. Because of the nature of the work, only two people were allowed at a time to be inside the room that constituted the field of the work itself. (This generated the contemporary form of the queue in which nobody is quite certain why one is queueing — the queue "legitimizes" the work in and of itself.) Because of the long queue, people were very curious and keen to get a glance at what lay inside the room.

This was accomplished via the grid-like meshwork of square holes that studded the walls to allow light inside. Some of these squares extended right into the room by means of aluminum endoscopic tubes — instruments used for surgically looking deep within a body — constituting another version of the panoptic city. In this I was reminded of Virilio's "vision machine" and the "endocolonization" of the animal and social bodies.

But these holes and tubes also allow for those within to see outside, a point made abundantly clear to me when I overheard the woman ahead in the queue, after looking in to see an eyeball peering back, remarked "How dare they look back at us?"

Peer, indeed.

Not wanting to wait in the queue, some people simply walked to the doorway and looked in, but that completely misses the point of the work: at its core, Hatch is a bodily experience, a field in which one must duck, straddle, circumvent and collide with the irregular-length endoscopic tubes as they poke out of the floor, walls and ceiling.

As with many cityscapes, however, this one is not equally accessible, as a sign outside the room pointed out: "We advise that for children and wheelchair users this work is best viewed from outside."

So while Gormley problematizes the surveillance/sousveillance binary in this work, he also (perhaps unintentionally) problematizes dis/ability and the way an "ideal" body might move through the city.

smithers:

[Aside] Once again, a year has passed and that means it is time to reflect (from Paris!!) on what I have "accomplished" here at sportsBabel. And that means a quick list of some of the ideas I was most fond of, from a thought process described as "sort of like a popcorn machine" (thanks Lex).

Ten posts, in no particular order:

1. Interactive Waste Disposal
2. Towards the Invisibility of Cameras
3. Guilty By Association
4. Central Intelligence
5. The Control Room
6. bODY_rESAMPLE?
7. Lightness and the Tactile Burden
8. The Authentic Hologram
9. Body Treble
10. Production Schedules

I began my doctoral studies in November at the European Graduate School, which clearly had a substantial influence on my work here at sportsBabel, as I was exposed to many new ideas and theories, perhaps most notably the work of Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri (and through them a further development of my reading of Deleuze and Guattari). Stalwarts of this blog such as Virilio and Baudrillard also continued to be of significance; sadly, we mourned the latter's passing this past spring.

But even more than these thinkers new and old, I am indebted to my colleagues at EGS for their contributions to my transformation and growth over the past year. An Elegy (for Saas-Fee) is written in their honour, and I look forward to seeing them again in only ten short months.

[Exit]

<!–a series on antony gormley and the origin of "tactile burden", in no particular order–>

Gormley is interested in two primary forms in his work: the human body and the architecture of the city. For him, "the body is our first habitation, the building our second."

We see both of these interests investigated in Allotment II, a composite installation in which 300 life-size concrete elements were derived from the dimensions of local inhabitants of Malmö, Sweden aged 1.5-80 years. 15 precise measurements were taken and used to construct 5cm-thick rectangular concrete body cases, with integrated rectangular head cases, and apertures at the mouth, ears, anus and genitals. The apertures were all precisely placed from the measurements taken. Once made, the pieces were installed in such a way as to compose a surrogate cityscape, with the "bodies" facing in all directions.

Engaging the Allotment II exhibit was an interesting experience. The "city" is laid out in such a way that it operates more or less as a rational grid network of traffic. But not all street sizes are the same: there are wide boulevards and plazas as well as tight avenues and alleyways. Does the viewer take the path of least resistance through the cityscape, or does one venture off the proverbial beaten path? Watching the gallery visitors interact with the city and with each other, transforming it into a social space — running, laughing, congregating, chatting — became very compelling for the (anthropological) I/eye.

Of course, like any city this one has its police force, constantly surveying, telling people not to touch the (solid concrete!) sculptures, monitoring flow.

This gaze of authority makes for an interesting play with the buildings themselves. While each had a measured aperture for mouth, ears (tapered inwards to channel sound), anus and genitals (both tapered downwards to excrete waste), the absence of holes for eyes was somewhat terrifying. If each concrete building "represents the smallest space capable of sheltering a particular human being," it is a space in which the gaze acts in an asymmetrical fashion, or perhaps one in which only electromagnetic imagery may pass through the density of the concrete boundaries to the space within.

"Sculpture knows what it lacks. It wants mobility and consciousness."

These words from renowned British sculptor Antony Gormley are particularly relevant to my work here at sportsBabel, since his project for the past twenty-five years has concerned the human body as subject of study, tool and material. Specifically, Gormley is interested in the body as form, but also the field in which it exists and in how other bodies will interact with it to co-produce meaning.

Gormley recently presented a retrospective of his work to the European Graduate School, and the temporal compression of twenty-five years into 90 minutes provided a dazzling insight and comprehension into the trajectory of his creative thought during this period. Admittedly, I was not a big fan of sculpture prior to his presentation, but I was smitten! The body dematerializes in his work, but he tries to wrest it back!

During the q+a session I tried to spit out a question about "blah, blah, blah … the tactile burden?"

He says: "Tactile burden? I never thought about it like that …" And he repeats the phrase: "Tactile burden."

So I get really excited. Over the next few days I start trying to figure out exactly what I mean by "tactile burden" and what it means for my own "philosophy". And that is what is consuming me right now …

Since then, I have been to see the Gormley exhibit at the Hayward in London. Over the next few posts I will be providing a synopsis of my trip there as well as key works presented during the lecture to EGS, and hopefully drawing (perceived) links to my work here at sportsBabel.

As the only "sports guy" in a field of filmmakers, painters, musicians, poets and philosophers, I expected to put aside my athletic affections while at EGS in favour of a full immersion in media, communication and the arts. So I was pleasantly surprised when the theme of sport popped up frequently and in the most unexpected ways during my time in Saas-Fee.

Ethylic, 2003. Acier, bois, peinture 240 X 160 X 140 cms, cour des beaux arts, Chatellerault

My first unexpected encounter came via the work of Jacques Julien. Julien is a French sculptor who uses the structural elements of sport — predominantly basketball net apparatuses — as the materials for his sculptures.

My friend Gail suggested that some of Julien's work evokes a Planet of the Apes-meets-the-NBA feel. She's not far off: while Julien's sculpture stands on its own, my first exposure to it was through a collaborative video work between him and Pierre Alferi titled Ça commence à Séoul.

Julien's sculpture was used to illustrate a poem written by Alferi in tribute to Jules Verne. In the postmodern turn, the verse of the poem was partly made by cutting up the captions to the illustrations in Verne's many books and repasting them. The DVD then becomes a fantastic voyage through the world of Micronesie, in which Julien (through image) and Alferi (though text) conjure the spirit of Verne's fantasy.

Basket ball ( 6 ) 1998. Acier, longueur totale 2000 cm, Villa Arson, Nice

In this sense, one can very much imagine Jules Verne's fecund mind conjuring up a futuristic world in which — centuries after the NBA and its low post colonialism decline — local cultures of expressivity repurpose these artifacts of modern sport to other ends.

French artist Pierre Alferi asks: How we might incorporate text and image on the same screen?

He offers three possibilities:

1. the text becomes an object, composition-wise, in the video image
2. the text is embedded or camouflaged as part of the image
3. the text is subtitled or intertitled to the image

This got me thinking about administrative numeration as a text form in high performance running.

In the era of hand-timed races, the official timers would concentrate first on the corpus of the moving body as it crossed the finish line and then record the bib number of the runners (who remained locked in their lanes) thereafter. With the photo finish on the other hand, the number does not play such a subordinate role. In fact, Rule 143.9 of the IAAF rules manual states that "Where Photo Finish equipment is in operation, the Organising Committee may require athletes to wear additional number identification of an adhesive type on the side of their shorts."

In the photo finish, the camera is fixed at the point of the finish line and shifts the focus of the viewer (race official, audience member watching scoreboard) away from the aesthetic of the moving body to the inscription of the numerical text on that bodily object. To borrow the language of Barthes, it is the moving bodies themselves that become the studium of the image in a photo finish, while in serving its administrative purpose, the number (as text) inscribed on the athletic body acts in concert with the graduated clock-ruler at the bottom of the image to form its punctum.

Space in basketball (and most other objective, goal-oriented sports) is currently conceived as a Euclidean, optic space: the coach draws Xs and Os from a bird's (god's?) eye perspective to delineate and orchestrate the moving bodies on the court; the coach also uses video in a similar fashion to break down the tendencies, successes and failures of self and opponent.

But when ten bodies meet in the enclosed, accelerated space of the basketball halfcourt (and often all may be found within the three-point arc), such remote, optic vision is quite impossible. A close seeing (what Deleuze and Guattari refer to as haptic vision) is necessary in order to process information correctly and determine appropriate movement tactics. It requires one to glaze the eyes over by a fraction and not quite focus on any one object. It also requires the body to "see" in multisensual fashion — for example, by touching other bodies or by listening to their footsteps.

In class at EGS this summer, Michael Hardt suggested that the capital at stake appears to be as important as the content it produces — not only for the owners of capital, but for its consumers as well. While he was discussing Hollywood at the time and its production of mystique and spectacle, the same can certainly be said for the world of professional sport. The consumers of professional sport are on intimate terms with player wages, stadium construction costs, league economics (salary caps, luxury taxes, revenue sharing), econometric techniques for cost assessment, media and sponsorship deals, and more.

Is this a symptom of the passage to vectoralism?

Does the "visibility" of capital obscure the stocks and flows of the vectoral?

If so, does it therefore imply that capital becomes the alibi for the vectoral order and its particular repressive logic?