I find the final review questions delightfully absurd, so I really want to start my reflection by pondering over them.
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- Are rugs interactive?
- Before I read Crawford’s clear division of interactivity, I had never really thought about this question before, and I probably would have said yes because of its interactive tactility. But by Crawford’s definition, no—rugs don’t “listen” or “think.” However, if we glue Arduino sensors to one, making it play synth sounds when stepped on, it becomes interactive. While his definition is useful, interactivity’s boundaries blur with creativity; anything has the possibility to be interactive when reimagined with tech. Socrates’ fear of silent text feels ironic in the age of AI. What if books “could” argue back? Maybe that’s the next Kindle update.
- My own damn definition of interactivity:
- Interactivity is when a system not only reacts to me but also alters how I react the next time. It’s a loop of influence, not just a one-off cause and effect. If the system surprises me or teaches me something about myself, that’s when it’s truly interactive.
- Interactivity is when a system not only reacts to me but also alters how I react the next time. It’s a loop of influence, not just a one-off cause and effect. If the system surprises me or teaches me something about myself, that’s when it’s truly interactive.
- Throw this book across the room. Measure the distance it traveled and the angle of impact:
- I didn’t actually throw the book (my roommate might object), but imagining it, I realize the question is poking fun at how we measure “outcomes.” Distance and angle are just the physical data. The real interaction is in the frustration, laughter, or satisfaction I’d feel when the book is thrown on the floor.
- Are rugs interactive?
When I think about the characteristics of a strongly interactive system, what strikes me most is not the sophistication of the technology but the reciprocity of the relationship. An interactive system is strong when it feels alive: it doesn’t just accept my input but adapts, resists, or even surprises me in return. Instead of a flat cause-and-effect chain, it’s more like a conversation with another mind. I see this quality echoed in the text’s emphasis on feedback loops—interactivity emerges from cycles of action and response rather than one-time events.
For my p5 sketches, I want to push beyond the “click to change color” type of interactions. One idea is to give the sketch a form of “mood” that evolves depending on how the user treats it. If the mouse lingers gently, shapes might bloom and expand; if the cursor jerks around aggressively, the system could retreat or glitch out. In other words, I’d like to design sketches that don’t just follow orders but perform a little interpretation of the user’s intent. This would make interaction less like pressing buttons and more like building an emotional relationship with the code.