Categories
Weblogging

The infamous pancake gathering

Today Clay Shirky points to Christopher Allen’s excellent essay on the Tracing the Evolution of Social Software.

Allen discusses the birth of the term ’social software’, which he traced to Clay’s summit on same, in November 2002:

It isn’t until late 2002 that the term ’social software’ came into more common usage, probably due to the efforts of Clay Shirky who organized a “Social Software Summit” in November of 2002. He recalls his first usage of the term to be from approximately April of 2002.

Clay, however, indirectly credits me and Dave Winer for helping him to popularize the term:

Allen probably credits me too much with popularizing the term (it was, ironically, David Winer and Shelley Powers who did most to spread it, by denouncing me and the horse I rode in on, back in 2002.)

Clay is referring to a note that Dave Winer wrote about it, and a couple of follow on posts I did.

In appreciation for his kindness in giving me such credit, I’ve used his original 2002 summit and the follow up writings to begin population of the SocialSoftware page in the Wikipedia for Weblogging, referring to the whole event as the great pancake gathering.

Thanks, Clay!

Categories
Diversity

Please notice me in the corner

Gina, who I like and respect, wrote a post at Misbehaving about how she doesn’t …wanna fight anymore — she doesn’t want to have to be louder online in order to be visible. She references helenjane.com who wrote:

See there’s been this ongoing discussion on the Internets over where are the ladies? They’re not involved in conferences, their blogs aren’t pushing the technical envelope blah blah blah.

And where are the ladies?

They don’t feel like making everything a fucking argument.
That’s where they are.

I can understand and sympathize with both ladies. It’s not pleasant having to yell, get into people’s faces and scream out, “Why can’t you see us!” Doing so usually irritates people in power, and loses us jobs and opportunities. What’s the old saying? You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar?

Of course, in the past, the women that fought for equal rights for women (and blacks, the early sufffragettes also promoted equality in race) didn’t stay quietly at home. No they usually dressed in their black business suits or white summer dresses with their sashes and marched through the streets yelling out for equality. And they would get spat on, and hit, and jailed, and force fed, so I can see why there were many women of the time that didn’t want to get involved.

Several decades ago more women marched for equal rights for women, and for the right of women to control their bodies. They were labeled bitch, and their femininity questioned. Some of them have gone on to be killed when abortion clinics have been exploded or shot down. Others still keep up the fight, but they’re considered anachronisms now — you know those shrill feminists who hate men?

In fact, many women would rather quietly sit and chat in a corner and wait to be noticed. After all, we have primary care giving responsibilities for our families and kids — we can’t afford to spend the time to get into tech user groups or conferences and make our presence known. It’s up to the men to notice us.

Still, for every three women who sit in the corner quietly writing or talking or doing good work, there’s one tough broad who still believes we have to get into people’s faces and demand to be heard. You’ll know her easily because she’ll enter political or technical threads and be one of the few women slinging mud with the rest; or she’ll submit her proposals to conferences, or write about the lack of visibility of women. She’ll call even the most popular guy out when he makes a sexist joke, or generalizes based on sex. She can be unpleasant to be around; most will say she can’t take a joke.

Of the three women in the corner, one, who is primping in a mirror and putting on lipstick, will look at the tough old broad and shake her head, saying something about those ‘crazy feminists’, and how if you want to get ahead, you have to make the guys feel good about themselves; after all, these big, tough men don’t want some shrill women yelling at them. Let’s face it: women have used sex and sexiness to get ahead for years — what’s wrong with using what works?

The next woman is the proper woman and she looks in disdain at both the primper and the tough broad because both are, frankly, rather distatesful: the primper because she uses sex, and the tough broad because she gets angry and makes a lot of noise, and that’s just not very professional. Not to mention ladylike. No she looks down her nose at such messy behavior because all it takes is connections to get ahead. You have to make connections. So what if you don’t call this guy or that on his behavior? Once women are in power, then we can call the guys on how they act. In the mean time, you have to play the game to get ahead.

The third women is a lot like you and me and every woman. She wants to be respected for her work and her ability. She gets frustrated that being a woman means that she’s less likely to get notice, or to get recognized for her achievements. She speaks up from time to time, but each time she does, she gets slapped down, and no one likes to get slapped down. She wishes that a lof the guys she respects would speak out more, and would stop making sexist generalizations –but she likes these people and they do a lot of good, so she holds back. She doesn’t really want to argue. She just wants to be respected. To be noticed for her work.

And who could blame her?

But that fourth woman, the tough broad; the one who keeps up the fight, who barges in, who calls the guys out, no matter how nice? Well she’ll just continue doing what it is she does, until the day she no longer needs to, or, more likely, the day she just gets tired. When she does get tired, she’ll probably join the ladies in the corner–if they’ll have her. But she won’t sit and quietly talk. No, chances are, she won’t say a damn thing.

Categories
outdoors People Photography

Color

The clouds broke today and for the first time in about three weeks, I finally had a chance to go for a long walk. The fall colors have started, and I was able to get some color shots. I am concerned, though, that something might be wrong with the camera. The photos seems to have an odd blurred edge to them — not being out of focus, almost like a slight double exposure. Probably some setting I’ve tweaked wrong. I hope.

I’ve loaded a few. Sorry, no sunflowers.

I don’t know if it was the fact that the weather was nice today after so much rain or perhaps the people were excited at the prospect of the debate, but the folks I met on the trail were exceptionally nice. Gentle, friendly smiles and nods, and even letting me pet their dogs. I met one, Scruffy, I wanted to take home but remembered Cat and that Scruffy had a Mom who would most likely object.

When the people said hello, it wasn’t a quick hello either; it was looking into my eyes, making sure I knew they were looking at me and saying hello.

Categories
Books

Spirit Cane

My brother asked me what I wanted to keep of my father’s and I answered without hesitation, his cane. Upon further reflection, I also asked for his books, and I’ll borrow the photos long enough to make digital copies.

I bought Dad the cane years ago when he starting slowing up a bit, at the youthful age of 75 I believe it was. He just needed a little support from time to time, but he hated the canes you get at the doctor’s office. Said they made him look old.

We were out shopping at a store that specializes in hand crafts when I saw an umbrella stand and in it, several walking sticks known as spirit sticks; so called because each is a solid tree branch that is finished smooth, and the face of the spirit in the wood is carved into the rounded knob at the top. We gave it to Dad and he loved it instantly. It stayed with him, always, up until the very end; even then, he would fret about where his cane was.

I love this cane, with its real wood feel, and smooth finish; to look at the pattern in the grain and the bore hole of some insect; the cut off end of a smaller twig that had sprung out from the side of the branch. Most of all, I love it for the wise face of the spirit. And since Dad and I were pretty close to the same height, it’s a nice fit for me if I ever find the need for such…some day when I’m 75. Or so.

Spirit Cane

The books have alternated between being a treat and a puzzle. My dad was very much into mysteries and suspense, so I am now the proud owner of every John le Carré book written, in addition to every Robert Parker book and several by Grisham, Elizabeth George, and so on. Though detective and mystery books are not my favorite, I love a good novel and I’ll have plenty to keep me busy on these increasingly cold evenings. After all, is there anything better than curling up in a warm bed with a good book on a cold evening? Especially at the end of a day of hiking, and an excellent dinner, perhaps shared with another?

Among the books, though, were some surprises. There was one book called The Book of Virtues by Richard Bennett. It’s a odd book that features a different virture, such as courage, discipline, honesty, and so on, each chapter. The author then publishes works that reflect this virtue, ranging anywhere from philosophies of Plato to poetry to the children’s story, The Velveteen Rabbit.

I sampled some of the pages on discipline and courage, the morals of compassion and responsibility and can already tell that I hate it. I mean, I really hate it. Can’t stand it, finding myself almost repulsed by it. I am thus compelled to read it thoroughly and share it with all of you.

I also found Frank McCourt’s Tis among all the whodunits. It’s the memoir of McCourt’s journey from Ireland back to New York, and his experiences re-adapting to his native land. In light of recent news, I particularly liked the following passage from the book:

No, I might be able to confess in the darkness of an ordinary church confession box but I could never do it here in daylight all swollen with the mumps with a screen round the bed and the priest looking at me. I could never tell him how Mrs. Finucane was planning to leave her money for priests to say Masses for her soul and how I stole some of that money. I could never tell him about the sins I committed with the girl in the refugee camp. Even while I think of her I get so excited I have to interfere with myself under the blankets and there I am with one sin on top of another. If I ever confessed to a priest now I’d be excommunicated altogether so my only hope is that I’ll be hit by a truck or something falling from a great height and that will give me a second to say a perfect Act of Contrition before I die and no priest will be necessary.

Sometimes I think I’d be the best Catholic in the world if they’d only do away with priests and let me talk to God there in the bed.

Categories
RDF

Another from Slashdot-a replacement for SQL?

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Another entry from Slashdot, this one about an alternative to SQL, based on SQL guru Chris Date’s innovations in the field.

This alternative, known as ‘Tutorial D’, would seek to eliminate some of the more persistent relational DB problems, such as that pesky multi-meaning null. Is a field null because it makes no sense for data to exist in the field? Or is it null because no data has been provided yet? This has always been a killer in database design, and something the proponents of “Tutorial D” could resolve, among other things.

But before we throw out our MySQL and Oracle, the authors caution, take heed:

There’s a way to go, though. First off, there are still some unconquered faces on the mountain – the notes from a presentation by Darwen (see the Third Manifesto website) admit that the implementation of some of the new techniques is “something for the next generation of software engineers to grapple with”. The main problem, however, is that although SQL is clunky and, from a purist’s standpoint, just plain messy, it passes the usual business test – that is, it’s good enough to do the job that’s asked for it.

SQL is ubiquitous. For something that’s weak, fallible, and failing, it’s used everywhere; it’s a rare application that doesn’t use a relational database. This is something the ’s, w’ semantic webbers, (not to mention the RDF critics) should keep in mind: a technology, a model, or an implementation doesn’t have to be perfect to be useful.