Categories
Writing

Actually, it’s awfully well written

I am wary of how to be a better writer guides, but the Ten Mistakes Writers Don’t See by Holt Uncensored is excellent. The sections covered are: repeats (crutch words), flat writing, empty adverds (avoid fat writing), phony dialog, no-good suffixes, the ‘to be’ words, lists (uh, well, ignore this one), show don’t tell, awkward phrasing, and commas.

I have five crutch words I am trying to break myself of. They are: actually, ultimately, that, however, and fuckthepresident.

However, in regards to the essay’s section on comma use, my problem with commas is that I tend to use too many rather than not enough. One of my favorite college computer teachers, who happened to have a PhD in English, used to tell me he wanted me to write comfortably without worry about punctuation, and then go through the work when I was finished and delete half the commas — adjusting the text accordingly. I still try to follow this today, but am not always successful.

As for flat writing, that’s the bane of technical writers. It’s very difficult to write actively when you’re talking about code. Something about code flattens written language. Still (is still a crutch word? Hmmm), flat, or passive writing, is a very effective tool to use when you’re involved in a sensitive written debate, such as in comments. The flat writings nollifies the bite of the words, making it less, uhm, flammable.

If you want your writing to be perceived more passively, write more passively.

All in all, an excellent essay.

Categories
Political

State of the Union: a Citizen response

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I sit at my computer and I think about all the reasoned things I could say in response to President Bush’s State of the Union speech. I am one that has been pushing for moderation from my brothers and sisters in this, the family of those who believes that it is imperative we make a change in leadership this year. I wrote and I polished and I erased and I paced and I read again.

But it was a life affirming moment when I realized that I didn’t have to make a reasoned response. I am not a Journalist, no not even a wannabe one. I am not an elected official or member of the government or candidate for office. I am a regular person, nobody of any importance, and as such I can take all that massive swirling heaving, maelstorm in my brain and literally paint this page with it – and it’s okay! Because I am a Citizen.

Our greatest responsibility is the active defense of the American people. Twenty-eight months have passed since September the 11th, 2001…

Twenty-eight months? Why stop there? Over seven years have passed since Timothy McVeigh decided to ‘teach the government a lesson’ and blew up a Federal building in Oklahoma. Over forty years have gone by since the Russians tried to ship nuclear missles over to Cuba. And over sixty years have passed since the Attack on Pearl Harbor.

But if we’re determined to be frightened, truly frightened, let’s not stop there.

Over 100 years have passed since the Maine was sunk during the Spanish American War. And let’s not forget those sneaky Southerners and them wanting to bust up the Union. Well that happened 150 years ago, more or less. And close to 230 years have passed since we kicked the British out during the Revolutionary War. Damn Brits, thinking they could tax our tea. Let’s go get the Aussies and beat the shit out of the Brits, shall we? We can pretend it’s a soccer game.

Inside the United States, where the war began, we must continue to give homeland security and law enforcement personnel every tool they need to defend us. And one of those essential tools is the Patriot Act..

Fuckin’a, you got that bud. And I want to tell you Prez – I can call you Prez, can’t I – I love your anti-terrorist strategy. Let’s treat every person that enters this country as a terrorist. Let’s fingerprint them, abuse them, prohibit their planes from landing, make it impossible to get a visa, and just make a visit to this country an all around miserable experience. Eventually the regular folk won’t want to come here, and our job will be a whole lot easier because the only ones who will want to come are the terrorists! Brilliant! Shooting fish in a barrel.

Then, once we make all the visitors to our country into terrorists, let’s do that to most of the people in this country – starting with the Democrats. And everyone in San Francisco.

Since we last met in this chamber, combat forces of the United States, Great Britain, Australia, Poland and other countries enforced the demands of the United Nations, ended the rule of Saddam Hussein – and the people of Iraq are free.

Man, is Bush our guy, or what? Of course Iraq and the people are free now – most of the wealth of the country has either been stolen or destroyed so it’s dirt cheap. Sure, you could probably get a hotel room anywhere in the country for less than a Motel 6. Get a hooker for less, see what hides underneath those scarves.

And can you dig that statement about our enforcing the demands of the United Nations? What’s with this “unilateral” shit – we’re only doing what the UN asked us to do. I’m sure I heard them say, “US, please go bomb the bejesus out of the Iraqi people and make us all safe from them horrible Weapons of Mass Destruction.”. Why it’s no different than a girl saying No, she don’t want sex, but you know she does. She really does, she needs to be coaxed.

Month by month, Iraqis are assuming more responsibility for their own security and their own future. And tonight we are honored to welcome one of Iraq’s most respected leaders: the current President of the Iraqi Governing Council, Adnan Pachachi.

Is that the guy over in the corner, with a gag on, a soldier standing over him with a rifle, and a ball and chain around his ankle? Just curious.

Different threats require different strategies. Along with nations in the region, we’re insisting that North Korea eliminate its nuclear program. America and the international community are demanding that Iran meet its commitments and not develop nuclear weapons. America is committed to keeping the world’s most dangerous weapons out of the hands of the most dangerous regimes.

And we’ll bomb the bejesus out of anyone we think is dangerous. You hear! You hear! We’re going to make this world safe if we have to kill every god damn one of you.

I have had the honor of meeting our servicemen and women at many posts, from the deck of a carrier in the Pacific, to a mess hall in Baghdad.

Yup, prime turkey photos in both places, too.

We’re seeking all the facts – already the Kay Report identified dozens of weapons of mass destruction-related program activities and significant amounts of equipment that Iraq concealed from the United Nations. Had we failed to act, the dictator’s weapons of mass destruction programs would continue to this day.

Damn teleprompters! It played parts of the State of the Union speech from 2003. You know, you just can’t trust technology.

America will never seek a permission slip to defend the security of our country.

Because Bush is the baddest matha fucka in the hood, and all your bases belong to him.

I propose increasing our support for America’s fine community colleges, I do so so they can train workers for the industries that are creating the most new jobs.

Is that the 200 million or so that will be spread real thin and make virtually no difference in programs for the unemployed? Ahh, that’s real nice, but McDonald’s and Wal-Mart said I didn’t have to know anything to work for them. Oh, oh, sorry, slip of the tongue – they said I didn’t have to know anything special to work for them.

Unless you act, Americans face a tax increase. What the Congress has given, the Congress should not take away: For the sake of job growth, the tax cuts you passed should be permanent.

And we wouldn’t want to deprive ordinary citizens like Instapundit his 1500.00 in tax refunds, would we?

I urge you to pass legislation to modernize our electricity system, promote conservation, and make America less dependent on foreign sources of energy.

You got all that farm and ranch land in Colorado to sink oil wells in, do you have to go for the Wilderness in Alaska, too?

In two weeks, I will send you a budget that funds the war, protects the homeland, and meets important domestic needs, while limiting the growth in discretionary spending to less than 4 percent. This will require that Congress focus on priorities, cut wasteful spending, and be wise with the people’s money.

Let’s see now, was that discretionary spending for the 43 million people with no health care? Or was it the schools that have closed because state governments no longer have federal help to keep them opening? Or perhaps since we’ve drilled up the conserved land, and relaxed clean air and water restrictions, we can save some money firing all the park rangers.

I oppose amnesty, because it would encourage further illegal immigration, and unfairly reward those who break our laws. My temporary worker program will preserve the citizenship path for those who respect the law, while bringing millions of hardworking men and women out from the shadows of American life.

You see, that’s just what we told the blacks when we brought them here several hundred years ago. But dammit, they wanted something more and in a moment of weakness, we gave it to ‘em. Now we have to find another disposable worker class.

After all, who else can we lock them into stores all night, or make work seven days a week, or kill quickly by spending ten hours a day hunched over pesticide laden crops in 105 degree sun? People in this country think they’re too good for these types of jobs – lazy SOBs.

In January of 2006, seniors can get prescription drug coverage under Medicare. For a monthly premium of about $35, most seniors who do not have that coverage today can expect to see their drug bills cut roughly in half.

I know someone with emphysema, who spends 2000.00 a month on prescription medicine. I bet she’s relieved to know that when she heads toward death, the same medications will only eat 1000.00 a month into the saving she and her husband spent a lifetime building up. Maybe she’ll die while there’s still a little bit left for her husband to live on.

And tonight I propose that individuals who buy catastrophic health care coverage, as part of our new health savings accounts, be allowed to deduct 100 percent of the premiums from their taxes.

Hmm, well you see, this is tricky. The way our tax system works, unless you have several thousands of dollars of tax deductions, they’re pretty useless for lower, or even middle income families.

But you know, your Daddy didn’t know how computer cash registers worked, maybe you don’t know how the tax system works for the rest of us?

So tonight I call on team owners, union representatives, coaches, and players to take the lead, to send the right signal, to get tough, and to get rid of steroids now.

43 million Americans don’t have health coverage, and you’re worried about steroid use? 43 million Americans can’t afford steroids! Isn’t that good enough?

We will double federal funding for abstinence programs, so schools can teach this fact of life: Abstinence for young people is the only certain way to avoid sexually transmitted diseases.

President Bush I have just one question for you: were you a virgin when you married?

The same moral tradition that defines marriage also teaches that each individual has dignity and value in God’s sight.

Dignity and value but not equality or rights, is that it? Mr. President, you’re giving Gays an empty cup and pointing to the desert and telling them to drink deeply from the compassion of your God. I think their mouths are too dry to express their thanks.

By executive order, I have opened billions of dollars in grant money to competition that includes faith-based charities. Tonight I ask you to codify this into law, so people of faith can know that the law will never discriminate against them again.

This is the same billions of dollars that you’ve taken away from institutions that have offered comfort, and food, and support in the past. The only difference is these non-religious organizations offer help without forcing the recipient to accept it on bended knee, or while standing over them while those helped speak hollow words of faith because they are too hungry, or too scared, or too sick, or too young to stand on their dignity.

We can trust in that greater power who guides the unfolding of the years. And in all that is to come, we can know that his purposes are just and true.

May God continue to bless America.

But he isn’t my God, Mr. President. Mr. President, do you hear me? He isn’t my God. We each have the right to pick our own god or gods, and your God isn’t my God.

And you’re not my President.

Categories
Photography Writing

Duplicating Images

Something said to me in comments about Emily Dickinson sent me scrambling online for information, as well as to the library for several books focusing on her life. I expected to find that her life was interesting. I didn’t expect to find such an incredibly sad story.

Oh, not sad if you read this biographer or that, but it is if you read the letters: to her, from her, about her. Eventually I want to write about my impressions, but I have to sort them out into some form of coherency first. Additionally, I’d hoped to have photographs to annotate the story.

I am finding a growing dependency on my photos to fill in where words cannot. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or not: shouldn’t words be able to live independent of images? Or images without words?

I don’t know if it was the influence of W.G. Sebald’s books such as the Rings of Saturn or Austerlitz (or that of Emigrants and Vertigo, which I hope to add to my small collection someday) that led to my growing interest in annotating my writing with photos (or perhaps I’m annotating my photos with words). Few writers have impacted on me as much as he has, but I have no interest in duplicating his style of writing (as if I could anyway, it is so uniquely him). But his use of photos and other images in the stories – it was wonderful.

I do know that writing now, without the use of accompanying photos feels incomplete, lifeless. Probably a phase I’m going through. My Photo Period. Next year I’ll write only in stanzas, and you’ll scream for the pictures.

In fact, I don’t have a photo for this writing. How uncomfortable. I suppose I’ll have to find a copy of the one official photo of Emily and paste it at the bottom. Or perhaps I’ll include the newly discovered photo supposedly of Emily, discussed in How I Met and Dated Miss Emily Dickinson. (Ignore the overly cute title, the story is good.)

Eventually, I have a feeling that I will stop all writing without some accompanying image, and vice versa; including my technical writing, which should make it rather unique in form and format.

(I wonder what type of photo one would use to accompany pages of RDF/XML? Something cryptic and complex but rather Important, I’m sure. Giant squid photos come to mind.)

Unfortunately, my photographs are being held up because a film scanner I ordered from B & H in New York didn’t work when I received it. Equally unfortunate, B & H is taking far too long to process the return. In the meantime, I have both slides and negatives I want to digitalize but can’t because of no scanner. I’d kick something in frustration, but this would most likely be inadvisable.

I guess I’ll just have to go out this week with my digital and see what new vistas I can find that don’t require a great deal of walking.

Categories
Connecting

Lines of communication

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

If you’ve followed this weblog for a couple of years, you might remember a time when I had classified the weblogs in my blogroll into specific categories. The categories were somewhat humorous, or not, but I couldn’t see any harm with what I did.

You can imagine how taken aback I was when one of the people in one of the categories sent me an email about how much he disliked being classified in such a a way. In fact, not only did he dislike being categorized, he particularly disliked the category I put him into because it really had nothing to do with what he wrote, or who he was.

That was my first exposure to categories in weblogging, and people’s reactions to same. Since then I’ve seen other webloggers use classification schemes to much better effect than I did at the time, but I’ve still never forgotten that reaction.

Lately, though, I’m seeing a growing increase in wanting to not only categorize webloggers, but to actually split an entire genre of writer off from the generic term of ‘weblogger’ into a separate classification of ‘journaler’ or ‘diarist’. In other words, separate out the people who participate as part of a community, from those who write online in order to publish their views to a wider audience.

I can see the viability of performing such a categorization, primarily from a viewpoint of community and self-censorship. If I see myself primarily as a writer who is publishing my works online, I may not want to be constrained by community concerns when I write. In other words, I may not want to be forced into self-censorship when I write because I don’t want to put friendships at risk.

However, I have to reject this classification and concern, as one who has written in disagreement with people who I respect and even cherish. I am finding that the people I value the most are the ones who gracefully accept disagreement, and, in fact, may relish it because a true dialog can then emerge, and from this dialog, great writing can result. Not writing from within an insulated vacuum; but writing knowing the full consequences of the impact of what’s been written.

That’s not to say there isn’t risk: I have been clumsy with disagreement in the past, allowing my passion to exceed my intellect and have lost friends as a result. However, even this, though painful, has been informative – I am learning to know when to inject passion, and when to carefully hold it in check; not in order to be conciliatory, but to be a better writer.

And I am a better writer. Oh, perhaps not in my use of proper grammar or spelling, or in measures of popularity and links, but in the only way that truly matters to me: I feel I am a better writer.

Returning to the issue of weblog categorization, Danah Boyd and Liz Lawley published a note about a face to face meeting they’re organizing at the upcoming O’Reilly etech conference, the purpose of which is to explore weblog categorization. Much of the impetus for this effort is derived from Danah’s own perception that …blogs and journals are different.

One issue that I raised was that the circumstances of the meeting precluded participation from the majority of bloggers. In effect, by having a meeting at a US-based, relatively expensive conference composed exclusively of technical folks, the results of the meeting can’t help but be anything other than skewed in outlook and ultimately results. Additionally, though I can also understand that Danah feels a need to get together with some folkand have a face to face, my own response is that if we tout the power of weblogs to aid in communication, then shouldn’t discussions about weblogs be held in weblogs?

However, neither Liz nor Danah were asking for opinions about having this face to face at etech – they were issuing invitations and plotting out their course of action. When they publish their work It’s then up to us to look at the factors surrounding their work, and the work itself, and form our opinions accordingly. Hopefully without any hostile perceptions.

Regardless of approach, I have no doubts that Liz and Danah and the other participants have the best intentions with their effort. There has been conjecture that there aren’t that many women tech bloggers. Well, perhaps the reason why is that the categorization of ‘tech blogger’ isn’t well defined. There has also been discussion that women tend to be ‘journalers’ not ‘bloggers’. Well, this of course begs the question: define blogger? Define journaler?

However, if Liz and Danah have the best intentions, not everyone who wishes to propagate the concept of categorization does. I am noticing a disturbing trend lately to separate those who write about our interests – poetry, family, music, pets and each other – from the more ’serious’ bloggers in our midst. Serious in this instance being, we most only assume, those who write about politics, money, tech, and power without the taint of ‘community’. By creating this dichotomy, this enforcement of ‘insiders’ versus ‘outsiders’, there is an attempt to cut off those of us who write …of shoes and ships and sealing wax; of cabbages and kinds from the ‘personal publishers’ in our midst.

I put the blame for this squarely on the coverage of weblogs in the media. Never an article on weblog goes by without the Journalist writing it mentioning, as an aside, a definition about bloggers that usually begins with, … ‘weblogs, or ‘blogs’, as they are usually called, are daily journals chronicling the life and interests of the blogger, and can cover topics as diverse as what the blogger had for lunch, to the war in Iraq. However, a new genre of blogger is emerging, the political blogger, who is beginning to have a strong influence on politics…”. Well, you get the point.

We writers who write about shoes and ships and sealing wax – and politics and what we had for lunch and yes, even our cats – are pissing in the pool the other more serious bloggers want to swim in.

Jeneane Sessum wrote on this recently in the beautifully titled essay, “When the comment spammers are more of a community than we are”. She wrote:

Yes, I do think a divide is emerging within a medium that attracted us initially by its flatness–no one really weilding any more power than another except through the quality of their writing and ideas and the strength and power of their individual voice.

You see, there was nothing to gain through blogging in the early days. It was my voice informing her voice informing his voice: our whole was greater, but our parts were pretty cool too. There was nothing to lose, specifically, or to benefit from. There weren’t as many pundits and VCs and CEOs and politicians and top dogs playing. WE were all top dogs by virtue of being someplace those types weren’t.

According to the classification discussed in this writing, Jeneane would be a ‘journaler’, not a ‘blogger’. Tell her that, though, and be prepared to be cut off at the knees. That’s the thing: we may classify all we want, but that won’t make it real.

But classifications, applied diligently, can have adverse impact over time.

If we see ourselves as serious writers but become classified in various schemes as ‘party’ people because we engage in conversations within our weblogging communities, will this not, over time, impact on the perceptions about our writing by those following these classification schemes?

If we designate me as a ‘poetry weblogger’, and you come here and I happen to be writing about technology, won’t this generate conflict between the classification and the reader’s perception – conflict that may lead to rejection of my writing, overall?

I would say that weblogs are self-healing and that we write around classifications such as these. However, I’ve been around weblogging enough to know that memes, such as categorization, applied consistently enough, and broadly enough, can have an impact.

I will follow efforts in this regard as it progresses, both with Danah and Liz’s effort, in addition to others because this is a topic that interests me. I would say that this, then, makes me into a ‘metablogger’, if it weren’t for my inconvenient photographs, asides into politics and women’s writing, as well as discussions about purple feet from time to time.

Speaking of which, who wants to see a photo of my purple foot?

(Another conversation along a similar theme formed in comments to a Joi Ito post tangentially related to this topic. Joi has the most amazing ability to build conversational hooks into his posts.)

Categories
Just Shelley

Just a simple Sunday drive

Today was an odd day. It was cold, hovering in the low 20’s (that’s F for the C among us). It was also snowing but too cold and too dry for the snow to stick. Instead, light fluffy flakes of white were falling all day but the streets were bare. The sun would even pop out among the clouds every once in a while.

I decided to drive to my river spot to see how high the river was, forgetting that today is Sunday, and Watson Road–what used to be old Route 66–is always a mess on Sundays. Monday through Saturday, drivers will move right along at 45-50MPH, which is about 5-10 miles over the speed limit. Come Sunday, though, and traffic just crawls along. This has driven me crazy for the entire time I’ve been here in St. Louis. Every Sunday, sure as bugs in August, every driver on the road, but me, is moving at or below the speed limit.

However, I’ve finally figured out the reason for it. Church.

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You see most people in our area are Christians and go to church every Sunday morning. I figured the rest of the day, then, they’re in this state of godliness that, among other things, alters their normal behavior. If you go into a store on Sunday, you’ll be greeted with a benevolent smile by everyone you pass. If you go to the parks, adults and children play happily together with nary a squabble. Even the dogs running out with their humans seem on at their best, keeping to the business of running rather than marking every static item in their path.

The drivers, then, are just following this ambiance of godly goodness. This means no honking, no rude passing going at a higher speed, or running a light without even a hint of amber color. And especially, no breaking the speed limit.

Luckily everyone seems to be able to scrape off this godliness come Monday morning or I’d have to move to a more sinful city. Like Washington DC.

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At the park I sat with the window open and the cold air blowing in, watching the water flow past. Though not a walk, it was close enough to restore my equanimity disrupted by nefarious digital forces and various other Things that always seemed to come from my computer.

The river was fairly high and moving fast, but nothing that I hadn’t photographed before. However, the cliffs surrounding the park had small icicles hanging from every crack and crevice so I was able to get some photos.

Coming home I remembered this time to drive in the right lane not the left and thus avoid the pothole from Hell, otherwise known as Destroyer of Cars. Another side effect of the odd warm/cold weather that can occur in St. Louis in the winter is potholes that can seriously intimidate even SUVs. However, none are as bad as Destroyer and as you approach it, you’ll see car after car swerving to the right to avoid it.

If you forget though, and are driving along lost in revery, a bone crunching jar will be your reward. I really need to take my car in for it’s 30,000 mile service. It hit Destroyer twice last week, and hasn’t been normal since.

It was nice to get out today. Cold, though, and dry. I was glad to have my nice insulated nylon winter coat on when I walked from the car to the townhouse. It was also nice to open the door to the townhouse, to feel the warmth rush out. My cat, Zoe, also rushed up to greet me and I reached down to give her a stroke.

*ZAP!*

I’m sure Zoe will be just fine in an hour. Or two.

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