Some interesting and well thought out responses, and basis for a nice discussion!
Callanish, you have found me out! I am indeed a “Sophisticated Luddite” in many respects—although a great deal of my professional and personal life has been structured around understanding and implementing technology. And you are correct—aside from a moderate skill with PHP development for Wordpress/Joomla, I am not a programmer.
One could make the argument that neither a physical or a virtual deck is truly random—but rather, and at best pseudorandom—and a mathematician would likely posit that due to the limited number of non-repeating points that is contained in the set (78), and that the ultimate selection of a subset of those has resulted from the mapped cumulative subtraction of cards (points) creating a low-discrepancy subset (the number of cards in a particular spread), this actually represents deterministic sequences. If one is truly bored, this can be quantitatively demonstrated by running simulations in SPSS and noting the consistency of several thousand trials of cumulative distributions using one of the Monte Carlo probability methods.
But my point was not to argue maths nor software design—and perhaps I did the discussion a disservice by introducing that thought. It would have been much better to have opened my “obvious” bias toward the tangible with the concept of simulacrum. It does a disservice to the discussion to jump over the top of the philosophical arguments surrounding the concept—ranging from the classic Platonian dialectic, through Kant, Nietzsche, finally Baudrillard and in the matter of technology—Lakoff & Johnson. For anyone that cares to delve to this level of critical thinking,
“Small Tech: The Culture of Digital Tools”, edited by Hawk, Rieder, and Oviedo makes for considered reading. (2008, University of Missesota Press.)
But back to the concept of simulacrum and its relation to technology. A qualifier first—both physical cards and their digital counterparts (including the delivery system) are forms of technology. A useful analogy follows. A stick is not a tool or technology in its own right—rather a thing in itself that we can later ascribe meaning or use to. If we poke a hole in the ground and use that to plant seeds in a row for a garden—then it has become a tool, and a primitive form of technology. In using the stick as a planting auger, the “farmer” is in close relationship to his work, and its natural environment. He is in contact with the soil and the seed, and the rhythms of the physical world which will hopefully result in a crop of something. This sort of relationship is termed animistic—as this is where the sui generis and ontology of the creation of mythopoetic “knowledge” has historically originated in many spheres for mankind.
At the other end of the spectrum would be the latest type of tractor towing along a complex planter that takes care of all the tasks of setting the crop. We have now really detached the ‘farmer’ from his manual relationship—and placed him in a possibly air conditioned, GPS navigated instrument of mass production. The technology has simplified and made available the ability to “create” on a humongous scale. Yet, this individual has been somewhat alienated from the course and product of his work.
If we consider the Tarot as a tool—and take a study of its content and progress prior to the populist and consumer driven influence of Stuart Kaplan—we find a remarkable dichotomy and schism between what historically formed the body of Tarot ‘occultism’ and the readily digested and often populist simplifications that have occurred due to mass market through whatever means. As humans, we have a powerful need and directive to establish relationships and meanings to physical metaphors and totems—frankly, such things as religion and moralistic ascription cannot exist without that…
Whatever the ultimate source, a root of our spirituality from whatever philosophy does indeed emerge from physical relationships. Whether some psychic force exists that can allow an individual to imbue a mass of cardboard and ink with some special dispensation is open for discussion. But the relationship with the means of communication to objects and environment not so much so. Some might even believe—such as with the Catholic catechism—that such a physical object (like the host and chalice) actually transmogrify themselves into something else through the belief, ritual, and action.
Circling back to the relationships of simulacrum and technology, cognitive linguists
Lakoff & Johnson (Metaphors We Live By. 1980, University of Chicago Press) suggest that digital technology increasingly places a 'pane' between users and their activities, imposing a physical distance between the seer and the seen. In such, we arrive at a mediated reality--something always seen through a window or pane--and the distance increases as the effectiveness of the simulation appears more 'real' and is seperated from its underlying schemas.
As a pragmatist, here is one thing that I know. Long after all of us reading or writing here have gone from this world and our actions and accomplishments forever forgotten—and the smartphones, computers, and programs common to us have become little more than vague recollections and dusty curios snickered at by our grandchildren—people will still be valuing and selling notable and early Tarot decks for many thousands of dollars. Cheap cardboard representations will still be available somewhere. I am sure that some blue faced future Luddite will appreciate all of this…