The Idiot Splicer

Question 1: How does "rhythm science" (which may be more about rhythm than science) apply to literature?
In the short time I've been serious about trying to become a fiction writer, there's been no shortage of discussion about influence. Like many new writers, there's a sort of inescapable desire to channel the voices of the writers that compelled us to write in the first place. Recently I received an e-mail from the Engl 418 professor (whose students many of us MFAs are mentoring) telling us that we might need to sit down with our students and have a difficult discussion about making sure that we are not merely channeling one of those dominant influential voices, but making something your own.

And I agree that it can be a dangerous thing, relying solely on regurgitating other voices you've encountered, but Miller argues that in many indirect ways, that's exactly what you're doing no matter how "original" your writing is. There's something wonderful about Paul Miller's approach to this issue in Rhythm Science. According to Miller, as one collages, and remixes, his/her "taste and preferences become mapped onto the specific structure of the rhythm" (40). If this wasn't already easily translated into the writing world, Miller later made that direct connection, describing writing as "infectious," with the same epidemiology metaphors he used for dj-ing.

Perhaps even more intriguing is the description Miller has for music as an unfixed, malleable entity. Rather than thinking of something like a song as a unit, he takes it apart and considers each track like a Lego set, able to be taken apart and rearranged. How much each part of those parts is a part of someone is much less relevant than what one does with those parts. In writing, the Lego analogy is even more tangible. We write within a set amount of blocks (whether you break it into sentence structure, words, sounds, or even lettes), and although of course we can make up new ones, for the most part we work within that set. So when one writer creates something with those pieces, another writer can take that apart and build something different--and it is within the similarities as much as it is the differences that we can see who the writer is and what they are bringing. I remember when I was a bit younger, and making a mix-tape (not splicing songs, but merely gathering a bunch of cds and making a casette of a mix of tracks) was much more laborous than it is now. Making these for friends was very deliberate, and although it doesn't say as much about me as my writing, I think the concept really does apply. What you choose to be influenced by, and what you choose to reflect of that influece, is what makes your writing both yours and a part of the rest of the "record collection" we can all sort through. It's a wonderful idea.

Question 2: With all of this emphasis on influence a I've discussed above, how come it's so easy to understand when an artist complains about copyright violation? In other words, how come I can understand Miller's suggestion and it seems perfectly clear, yet on some levels I can understand why an artist would make something and NOT want it chopped up, remixed, werd?

This book makes me feel like the only good approach would be to post one of my favorite remixes...
I dare you not to smile at Girl Talk's ability to mix Nirvana's "Lithium" with Deee-lite and Salt n Pepa simultaneously. Plus the video is lovely work of splicing as well:



Second is just a link, but it's one of my favorite remixes ever because both the remixer and the remixee are both extremely fluent in mixing analog and digital art. Here we have Cornelius's mindboggling track "Fit Song" remixed by the Books. Listen, love. "Eat. White. Paint." It gets progressively stranger and more wonderful as the source material blurs into.... who knows what this other thing is.

Cornelius - Fit Song (The Books Eat White Paint Remix)