thoughts of an online editor
pondering the worth of his actual sentience on the edge of the Atchafalaya Basin

Tyrone L. Adams
Founder and Co-editor, ACJ
University of Southwestern Louisiana, Department of Communication

with a big bag of Fritos and a Diet Dr. Pepper at 3:34 am

I, too, have lost the ability to hegemonize.

Three years ago, when I originally penned the model for the American Communication Journal on the back of a cocktail napkin with a colleague before proposing it to the ACA Board of Directors (which is a very different amalgam of personalities today) that next morning, I must admit that I was definitely "under the influence." I was under the influence of two addictive drugs, the genteel backdrop of Charleston, S.C. (where the American Communication Association Convention was being held), and one freshly discarded mother philosophy.

Cigars, Bourbon, and Charleston

Drawing steadily on a Dominican Cohiba and sipping in the nature of the universe through the mind-altering medium of Jack Daniels is not merely the fast-track to several serious deadly conditions, it also happens to be one of the better ways to alienate yourself from reality altogether. Feeling the comfortable blue smoke crawl upward over my face, and the warm bias of bourbon bespeaking an artificial composure throughout my body, the "Outlaw of the Ozarks" (Professor Stephen A. Smith from the University of Arkansas) and I began drafting the foundations of a publication process that would make Hegel himself uncomfortable. Almost ninety percent of the theories that we volleyed about that evening (as the second round of Cohibas were clipped, swirled, and stoked) were never implemented. For that matter, since we destroyed about ninety percent of our remaining brain cells, those ideas were never really remembered. What I do remember the next morning, as I pleaded with the shower for rehydration, was that an academic online multimedia journal (such as we had hallucinated) made complete sober sense.

Please remember that this was October of 1996, and Windows 95 was still making its 32-bit presence known in all of the evolving software. You should also recall that .java was still being developed by Sun Microsystems, Netscape went unchallenged as the uniform browser-standard, and many unclaimed URL's were still available through Internic. Further, an infrastructure that could accommodate the masses of online users (and multimedia data) that would soon be present upon the Internet was still in its engineering infancy. In fact, at the publishing of this essay (May 1999), that massive technical infrastructure is still lacking; dial-up ports are often busy (except at Dartmouth where they enjoy Internet 2) and network scalability is a chronic issue. Developments by Teledesic and Hughes Space & Communications promise to reshape connectivity to Internet protocols through bidirectional satellite and cellular broadcasting, once again theoretically redefining what constitutes the Internet.

I also remember how I saw my previously held mother philosophy come crashing down that nicotine-enraged evening. It was not because of a persuasive Stephen A. Smith, or that my Freudian fixations had been momentarily fulfilled, or that the top-shelf bourbon was more than adequate (though I would be remiss not to credit each with an assist). I genuinely attribute the conception of a "null world view" to the thoughts that preceded the development of ACJ. Something happened on the way to my first ACA Convention (I highly suggest attending one if you have never been), something that should probably not happen to a greenhorn scholar until they reach, say, the jaded age of 60 and begin contemplating the roundabout whispers of "early retirement." ;-) I had lost all faith in the traditional route to institutionally-owned knowledge, you see. I had abandoned my lust to belong to a pack of scholars more concerned about the cologne-laden fripperies of profit and protocol than the sagely harvesting of knowledge itself. I watched myself, as if I were outside of my own being monitoring my own actions, letting go of all the traditional prescriptions for success. Letting go not only of these prescriptions, but also of age-old tried and trusted paradigms. "Just who in Sam Hill authorizes credibility in the first place," I remember babbling to myself. I was, well, as you can see -- "out of control."

Freaking Out

"Ahrrr ma amammamamma bababb aba ahhg [drool] aaaaaaaaah!!!"

I had heard the rumors of good scholars who had published tomes of quality work, only to be denied tenure and promotion for some stupidity. I had heard the gossip about academic publications being treated as proprietary polity by their editors, used as conduits to referee rewards to the politically "enfranchised," and mete out discipline to the politically "disenfranchised." I had far-too-expensive dinners with peer-colleagues at conventions, watching trusted contemporaries convert themselves (without even a nod to the invention of autonomous ethics) into pathological philosophy groupies, mindless of their own destinies. It made me furious that undergraduate and graduate school, where ingratiating generally reigns supreme, seemed to be the preparatory institutions for entering the sanctioned ranks governing the "marketplace of ideas." It was like watching a sea of brilliance and creativity sell itself short for a useless vita line. All of that priceless inventio shoved into a cardboard binder, to simply sit and rot on a shelf.

Now, I am taking my goldfish, and leaving.

I remember practicing the vast gamut of sycophantic techniques that I would have to master to usher my research into print. I also remember inserting footnotes upon footnotes of names who somehow "contributed" to my global research agenda. I remember my utilitarian idealism running headstrong against my own good common sense. I remember my desire to manifest a level playing field for anyone who produced solid research -- and had the wherewithal to publish it online, embracing new textual frontiers, and distributing to wider audiences. I was unreservedly incensed, unabashedly malcontent, and filled with the genuine (arguably comical) self-righteousness that only a 27-year-old boy with a freshly-minted Ph.D. and acne could possibly muster.

I was monotonous, puerile, and (luckily) one-hundred percent correct with my vision of the American Communication Journal. I regret nothing to date, except my inability to make ACJ the premiere academic journal throughout all communication (and maybe more than that!) study within the three years of this, my founding and co-editorship. Oh, Jim and I have taken our fair share of chuckles and potshots by the "head-shed groupies." Like children, however, they only have the originality to repeat what they have heard elsewhere. Regardless, I believe that Co-editor Jim A. Kuypers and I have made serious headway for ACJ the next generation that will, unquestionably, harvest this eventuality. Stephanie J. Coopman of San Jose State University and Norman C. Clark of Appalachia State University -- you will soon inherit the dream. Be skillful and ethical armed-prophets.

Enter Professor Jim.A.Kuypers@Dartmouth.edu

For whatever reason, that evening in Charleston, Professor Smith and I sat atop some very sacred ground: the terra of inventio. This is not self-glorifying rhetoric grounded in objectivity qua. This is the real deal: happenstance intellectual symbiosis. If you have never experienced logical fusion with another human being before, it is something to envy and fear. Logical deduction and induction meld together to produce an integrated, proportional model of thought in an encrypted language that only the equal parties involved can understand. Were we excited? You bet! But, I would like to go on record here: At no time did we hug...

There, for that heady moment in time and space, we were dreaming, we were innovating, trading wildly on intellectual options - and prepared to embrace the polity required to produce the vision: a no-cost, online, peer-reviewed academic journal specific to no one hidden college, making use of every possible multimedia product available. Both of us being fans of William Gibson (having just read The Neuromancer), we grinned and called this undertaking "the Matrix Project." In reflection, this name was an excellent metaphor. "Damned straight," I remember saying as I slammed down my glass, "the friggin' Matrix." Then, Steve became fuzzy.

As fate would have it, upon return to Fayetteville, Arkansas, Professor Smith became entangled in the Whitewater scandal (having been the Executive Assistant to then-Governor Clinton during the 1980's, among <ahem> a few other things). His time, energy, and spirit was forthwith assimilated into the federal code. What seemed like the untimely end to a dually-inspired chimera, however, was actually just the genesis of ACJ. The thought of the journal possessed my every waking moment. It could be done. But, it could not be done alone...

I remembered asking myself: Who, among all of the scholars in the communication discipline, is independently-minded enough to think, absent the paranoia of perceived repercussions? Who, among all of the scholars that I know, are forthright enough to assist me in bringing this creation from inception to fruition? Who, among this catty lot, has the credibility needed to bring forth the standards and rigors of print publication to ACJ's berth? Every time I asked the question, the name "Jim Kuypers @ Dartmouth College" came back with a resounding "yep" in my mind. Securing his leadership and cunning at the Co-editorial level of this vision was difficult, but definitely not a "second choice." If anything, Professor Smith's sudden involvement with Kenneth Starr provided ACJ with the platinum opportunity to secure one extremely adept Professor Kuypers.

I phoned Professor Kuypers in January of 1997, and asked him if he would like to participate in such an endeavor. After explaining my ideas over a four-hour phone conversation, listening to his passionate responses, and discovering that Dartmouth College had just been voted the number one "wired" university in the U.S., I immediately pressed him for an answer: he paused for what seemed an eternity, and said "absolutely." From that moment on, we blended our divagating energies and strategies specifically in the direction of making ACJ an exemplary model for online publication. It was a natural relationship from the start. I will not dwell upon the mechanics of this partnership, but suffice it to say that he has the patience of a saint and a level of persistence only rivaled by water torture.

As we move into the last volume of this pact turned brotherhood, please allow me the genuine moment to thank him for all that he has done (and risked) to help me bring this product to market. Jim, the dream of this journal was mine - but, the reality of its existence is yours. Man, you are my "Ambassador of Kwan!"

E.journals and Issues of Credibility

I wish now to address where my mind dwells almost unremittingly anymore. I wish to address those involved with every aspect of academe. Be they students, academics, faculty members, administrators, or staff members interested in the politics of thought, or, the thoughts on politics. In particular, I wish to address the future and present students of communication studies throughout the world. It is your minds that will reshape the present, by leveraging your futures as a powerful intellectual currency. This currency cannot be touched. It is the currency of what has not yet materialized.

Do not let the "paper dragon" discourage the free flow of your ideas away from powerfully innovative new mediums. I suggest something truly heretical here, since I position myself as a change agent vying for the most prized of all human possessions: the future.

Consider my arguments to come. Hear the ad hominem darts "utopian" and "silicon snake oil" lofted about the digital enterprise, as if by labeling what I say by category or slick alliteration anchors the continued flight of ACJ's working model. Tomorrow, ask yourself where your work really has the opportunity to do the most good. Tomorrow, consider color, sound, motion, communicativity, and interactivity to be allies in your quest to answer the burning questions. Tomorrow, consider not replicating replication for the sake of societal inertia. Tomorrow, consider what your role in the creation of knowledge will be. Dare to metamorphose.

I hope that my words are forwarded about from e-mail address to e-mail address, and listserv to listserv, as something of an awfully inferior "Letter from a Birmingham Jail." I hope that this diatribe stirs the debate over critical thought, and moreover, the dynamics of publication politics. For, like Martin Luther King (and Martin Luther too), I feel plagued by ambiguous credibility goblins that dare not identify themselves. For, if they would identify themselves, and their arguments, I could certainly engage the thesis. But, the rhetoric of silence as a strategy, methinks, runs strong among those hoping to evade the coming of this new medium. As if by ignoring the technologically liberating context about them, paper journal editors could insulate the merely decades-old legitimacy of their medium through strategic containment. Perhaps the reverse social psychology is taking place here? Perhaps the fear of addressing the issue, in the territory of the medium itself is the catalyst which will spark the inevitable shift?

I genuinely invite this silence to speak, and therefore, I prod it to clash: online or on paper. Your place or mine?

Show Me the Mon.e

By lessening the value of electronic journals, paper journals maintain their currency. By maintaining this currency (and credibility), academic associations protect their fiscal interests. What are these fiscal interests? Request a copy of the budget for any academic association of which you are a member. Examine the revenues generated by these academic journals. Recall that these journals are purchased by campus libraries and subscribing academicians (at least, those who can afford them since rates are exorbitant). If the purpose of the academic journal were, truly, to disseminate knowledge - then why, pray tell, have these associations not freed the data into the Matrix that is the Internet? (NCA is "experimenting" with this model in the form of CT Online, to be fair.)

Oh crap, here I go. "Common sense or virtue...common sense or virtue...?"

Why must the dissemination of knowledge, which is allegedly a puritanical endeavor, be commodified so that monumental sums of principal and interest can accrue in the budgets of our peripatetic associations? All the while, our associational dues continue to rise. Are our wine and cheese parties that critically important? Are the reception suites (leased for the associational purposes of communicating power and prestige to the commoners who pay for their own impression-oppression) so vital to the overall intellectual enterprise that it is assumed, somehow, that learned people cannot command a credible social consciousness as an enterprise without them?

I no longer wish to be part of an enterprise that seeks to divide campuses between the "haves" and "have-nots." Or, I should say, those who can afford academic journals in bulk, and those who cannot. Charge what you will for cocktail parties at the door, dear friends, but please do not pad this cost into the very binds of my journals. Sooner or later, you will have to meet these arguments.

Journals, I might add, which make their way on the indentured servitude of an academic class trapped in a self-created false consciousness.

The American Communication Journal is absolutely free. As is membership in the Association. Both will remain free as a boycott to this imprudent culture of complicity and also as the standard-bearer for future digital models. Future models, some of which have not even yet been considered or proposed, that the American Communication Association may likely sponsor, with gusto. Read that again, young digital heretic - this is a call to all good visionaries: If you have the vision, and are willing to craft a reasonably credible proposal for review by the ACA Board of Directors, the Association may very well have the server space for your new online journal. Its an issue of your will to destiny, that's all. See you at ACA 1999, in Lafayette, Lousisiana.

Information (like people) wants to be free; it has a conscience, a sentience all its own. And, personally, nothing drives me more than liberating a colleague from the artificial firewalls and mass-produced means of predetermined credibility.

And guess what, Jim and I still have another volume left with which to chum the digital waters. After all, "tomorrow is another day."

All thoughts are mine. I shall duck all responsibility for them.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank my soulmate Brenda and two-year-old son Alexander for putting up with me during the creation and publication of this online journal. It would be a far easier thing to simply collect a few essays and hammer out a table of contents as the publisher put them into order. That said, I think that even Brenda understands that this change must occur. Not sure that she agrees that it should be me fomenting it, necessarily. (But, I only have one year left sweetie!)