Reviews of three new books. A Network Orange: Logic and Responsibility in the Computer Age by Richard Crandall and Marvin Levich (Copernicus/Springer-Verlag, 130 pages, $25) VIRTUAL BANALITY Now that we are irrevocably fixed in the grip of the information revolution, what do we make of our predicament? In this provocative series of six essays, the authors, both Reed College professors (and former instructors of this author), scrutinize the false promises and unexplored avenues of the computer age. Their sobering conclusion: The ubiquitous computer network has begun, in subtle ways, to subvert both science and the humanities. The authors contend the modern network is "a strange and chaotic thing, at the fringe of the unimaginable, giving rise to profound problems of logic and responsibility." The first essay, "A Conspiracy of Parts," describes the evolution of computers, starting with the giant calculating machines of World War II, and explains how the industry's spectacular gains in processing power have simultaneously bequeathed a kind of instant obsolescence, choking its users in a hopeless tangle of incompatible operating systems, program versions and three-letter acronyms. The essay also proposes alternatives to the dominant "brute force" approach, including genetic algorithms and quantum computation. Another essay examines the impact of Internet bulletin boards and chat rooms on the process of education. While the Web places unending facts at one's fingertips, it's "better suited to providing facts than to promoting thought." As the authors point out, the Internet promotes a peculiar sort of electronic pidgin, where emotion turns into icons and nuance is abandoned. These essays sparkle with good writing, lively anecdotes and wry humor. But the central message is unmistakably solemn: Before we fully embrace the network, we should ask ourselves what we're trying to accomplish. Chris Lydgate Queer Corners by Donald Olson (BridgeCity Books, 323 pages, $14.95) Twenty-third Avenue Books, 1015 NW 23rd Ave., 224-5097, 7:30 pm Wednesday, Aug. 4. Free. THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD In 1992, Oregon became a hotbed of controversy when Ballot Measure 9 threatened to attack gay citizens' basic rights. Local writer Donald Olson revisits those dark days in his comic novel Queer Corners. The book's title is lifted from a fictional Portland neighborhood where the denizens, a close-knit band of gay people, bicker and snipe at each other--much like folks in any other enclave in this city. But these residents are justifiably upset when Ron Labonne, the founder of the American Christian Alliance, moves nearby. Though all the neighbors' private lives are plunged into crisis, they must unite when the ACA sponsors a ballot measure that...well, you know the rest. Since Queer Corners is a farce, its overuse of stereotypes is perfectly acceptable. The interactions of the handsome restaurateur, the Japanese master gardener, the uptight old music teacher who loves young studs, and the lesbian dog breeder are handled with wit. Olson employs a playful use of language with loads of sexual innuendo, cute made-up words such as "homosocializer" and "gaytriarch," and thinly disguised characters like a Senator Peckerwood. But as charming as it may be, this book is not designed to endear or even explain queers to the straights in this world. Even the most tolerant, liberal heterosexual will feel excluded from this inside joke. And come to think of it, is it really helpful to treat an subject like gay discrimination as a joke? Susan Wickstrom BarFly edited by Jen Lane Issues No. 1 and No. 2 Free at area bars LUSH FOR LIFE There should be more Jen Lanes in this city. Lane created The BarFly's Guide to Portland three years ago, and while this very comprehensive list of pit stops of potability wasn't as descriptive as it could be (it listed spots and their offerings without much context), at least she got off her ass and did it. Portland's young people fill its bars, and many leave behind crumpled cocktail napkins marked with grand plans. Lane actually comes through. Her latest enterprise is the 'zine BarFly, a monthly CD-booklet-sized guide to the local drinking scene. Listings similar to the ones in her previous guide are interspersed with columns and articles. A hilarious set of icons mark each listing (a dude drumming signifies that a place is a hippie haven, and Buddy Hollyish glasses identify hipster haunts), and the descriptions in the 'zine are markedly more contextual than those in her book: Bud Clark's Goose Hollow Inn, for example, is a good place to stalk the one-armed man from Twin Peaks. Still, there are way too many instances of the words "great," "good," "diverse" and "excellent" in what should be an authoritative guide. Lane has the knowledge to push it to the next level, and I'll bet a Manhattan that she will. So far the 'zine hasn't come out monthly as promised, but perhaps the fund-raising BarFly bar tours she's sponsoring (the next one will be Friday, July 30) will stabilize her publishing schedule. Those who are over 22 and interested in plunking down $10 to tour area bars via bus can call 813-9999 to make reservations. Caryn B. Brooks   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Willamette Week | originally published July 7, 1999