We are people of the screen now,
says Kevin Kelly. When we were people of the written word, we developed a long list of innovations and techniques to permit ordinary readers and writers to manipulate text in ways that made it useful (think: quotation symbols, tables of contents, page numbers, indices, footnotes, bibliographic citations, and of course, hyperlinks). We will do the same to support screen fluency:
With our fingers we will drag objects out of films and cast them in our own movies. A click of our phone camera will capture a landscape, then display its history, which we can use to annotate the image. Text, sound, motion will continue to merge into a single intermedia as they flow through the always-on network. With the assistance of screen fluency tools we might even be able to summon up realistic fantasies spontaneously. Standing before a screen, we could create the visual image of a turquoise rose, glistening with dew, poised in a trim ruby vase, as fast as we could write these words. If we were truly screen literate, maybe even faster. And that is just the opening scene.
Peter Stark could have simply defined hypothermia as the condition in which the body is at abnormally low body temperatures, one that needs treatment at body temperatures of 35℃ and becomes life threatening below 32.2℃. Certainly that is what most trainers would do. Instead he embeds the cold hard facts of freezing to death in a story that begins:
It is an engrossing read. Narrative experiences can be so powerful. Some will transport you to another place and time in a way that is so compelling it seems real. A narrative like this could provide the structure for an entire training program. The story offers an organizing structure for new experiences and knowledge. It could shift the focus from a rote memorization of facts in a textbook to a diagnosis of a real-world condition.