Focusing on code

I’m tired of splitting my focus between 3 or 4 projects and never quite finishing any of them. Instead, I’m going to focus on one–coding Wordform–so I can put the first release of the code out on the street for the daring of you to trip over. I have some writing to do, and the store and Tinfoil to finish, and I want to spend time in the Ozarks in the next couple of weeks finishing my photos of mills — but I’ll feel better doing all of these things if this one item is checked off.

What this means is this weblog and my others may be going through some interesting times in the next few days as I start modifying some of the core infrastructure elements. Expect things to break; copy your comments before posting; ignore the purple paint, broken glass, and hole in the floor.


The Pope leaves

For those who are Catholic, I am sorry at the loss of the leader of your church today. There were many things I admired about Pope John Paul II: his dedication, hard work, and the common touch he had that made him so endearing. In the end, though I did not agree with many of his opinions and some of the actions he took (or did not take), I can respect him as a man who was fearless in the face of adversity, and had earned the love of many.

Connecting Weblogging

Scoble and balance and heartbreak

I wrote this almost 20 years ago and stand by it, 100%. Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I was not going to write again about Matt and WordPress, because I didn’t see that there was any point: I wrote my two posts, I said my piece, people either agree, disagree, or say to themselves, “Matt who?”

That was before I saw the following in my aggregator this morning, from Scoble:

Shelley gives us the silent treatment for not being harder on Matt

Shelley Powers channels Jon Stewart and gives those of us who didn’t take Matt Mullenweg to the mat for his response a lot of heck with her “silent treatment.”

That’s the meme of the week: that bloggers aren’t tough enough on each other. Well, sorry, everytime I’m tough on some group or some person I get heck. “Be nicer” is what I’m told. I figured that linking to Matt is enough. I start my morning by assuming that my readers are smart and can make up their own minds as long as they have access to all the information.

I also looked at it and saw that Matt was being treated pretty harshly already, and didn’t see that responding with an even harsher comment would help anything out.

In his post, I wrote the following comment:

You completely misrepresented absolutely everything about that post and what I said.

You did so by such a margin that I have to assume that this was a deliberate attempt to smear me and weaken the message of what I was saying.

You didn’t link to the first message, where I said we should not treat Matt harshly, and then picked and tweaked what I said in the second until you found the message satisfactory to you — that Shelley is picking on that poor _boy_ Matt, and let’s put the bitch in her place.

And you most likely did so because I was critical of you in the past, and you never forget and you never forgive.

All you’ve done, is proved out everything I said in that post.

Every damn thing.

What I said in both posts is that people make mistakes, sometimes big ones, and we shouldn’t make them grovel or beg for forgiveness or go through hell as ‘punishment’ because the community feels ‘betrayed’. Why? Because it’s about damn time for the ‘community’ to grow the hell up and stop putting such faith and complete trust in each other.

Here’s a clue for the clueless: none of us can live up to all of your expectations. You’re going to be disappointed at one time or another in any one of us. There are no saints here, and the so-called heros pick their noses and step in dog shit, just like everyone else.

On the other hand, there is nothing wrong with questioning an event, or to be concerned, or yes, even angry at an event. Being critical of an action taken, or post written, or opinion given, is not the same as condemning the person, and shouldn’t be treated as such because to do so shuts down the conversation! It is the tool of the manipulator, the weapon of the outclassed.

In regards to Matt and the link farm, too many first reactions took the action and used it as wholesale condemnation of Matt, the person, and WordPress the product and community. Doing so discounted the good work that Matt and the same community had accomplished with this product, and the balance swung, wildly, to the negative.

On the other hand, legitimate questions were raised, and concerns expressed. People didn’t know whether they should keep the WordPress links at their site if the pagerank was going to be used in this way; Matt’s credibility as a leader in the fight against spam did take a hit, and the impact on this on the effort at large is a good point to discuss.

More, the perception of open source and free software, as it is popularly known within the weblogging community, was also impacted by this action–the question is raised that if open source efforts must resort to actions such as these to raise funds to keep the project going, what is the hope for this as a viable project type?

What happened with Matt and the WordPress organization’s web site has reprecussions beyond just this person and this site, and discussing this is a legitimate thing to do.

But rather than address these, we were given an odd message about buses and experiments and Wikipedia (oh yes, bring that word in, with all of its positive karma) not to mention vague slams at those who brought these issues up: references to never asking for money from your readers (i.e. Kottke), or let’s bring Six Apart into it, subtly remind people of that old controversy.

Did Matt say he was sorry? Yes he did, but in such a way as to generate more questions, than answers. But you can’t bring this up in the “Wordpress community” — to do so is to a) be a freeloader who doesn’t pay for the work of others; or b) an asshole who doesn’t understand that what’s important is forgiveness and after all Matt is a nice guy.

There is no balance in any of our communications. We’re either on one side or another, either with the ‘good guys’ or we’re bad. If we’re critical, some flock to our sides, and others villify us; but then if our opinions go another way on another action, we ‘antagonize’ those of our supporters, and the flow around us shifts again, as allegiances are broken and sworn.

Every time I express an opinion, the movement of bodies coming and going from around me damn near knocks me off my feet.

Each person must define their own expectations about those who read them but for me it’s this: if you read my weblog regularly, you should be doing so for the quality of my writing or the pretty pictures or the helpful code or the issues raised or even that you like me and see me as a person who you want to share a beer with–any number of reasons other than being completely aligned with my views and having absolute faith and unquestioning trust in what I write. Because if you read me for the latter, I’m going to break your heart someday, and laugh while you cry.

My two posts: 12.

Scoble’s two posts: 1 and 2.


I do regret that I wrote And you most likely did so because I was critical of you in the past, and you never forget and you never forgive in the comments–didn’t add to the conversation, and added an unnecessary emotional context. Regretted as soon as written — which is why I provide the post-comment editing facility.

Critters Places

The snooty turtle

I almost missed the daffodils at Shaw this year. I even thought I might give them a pass, but the weather was good and I needed a walk, so there I was, in the field with the flowers.

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Yes, daffodils here, daffodils there, but not as many as last year, and not as many as the year before. It might be my imagination, but there aren’t as many flowers this year, same as there weren’t as many falling leaves last fall.

I suspect we should value the ones we have more, than. Instead we look at the fields in disappointment, muttering to ourselves, “That’s it, then, is it? A few scrawny blooms? Could have done better with the picture on a packet of seed. Where are all the bloody daffodils?”

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But that’s not what this is about. Enough with the brazen flowers, I don’t want to talk about flowers, I’ve talked about flowers. And yes, even done the daffodil poem–you know the one. Clouds and stuff. No, today I want to introduce you to my turtle.

You see, the great thing about visiting Shaw throughout the year is that each time a different animal has its time in the sun.

There are the frogs, of course; the famous frogs you can’t see but you can hear by the great noise they make. And mustn’t forget the bumblebee and the butterfly, as they contend for the prize: the last golden flower in the field.

You have to walk far, part with a tiny sacrifice of flesh and blood for the insect life on the way, but I should mention the beaver, as it slips quietly through the mud for a bit of twig and stem. There was also the time with the baby snake I thought was a rattler but was something tiny and harmless, and scared to death of the big, ugly things hovering over it.

Birds, always birds, of course, and this trip was no different–especially this happy fellow, a mockinbird in a tree. I have a fondness for mockingbirds; they are the ultimate copyright thieves and I’ve long been amazed at the fact they’ve not been adopted as mascot of the movement.

But this trip was for the turtles. I’d seen turtles before, but from a distance and only one or two. Yesterday, however, the turtles were out on the cypress logs and stumps and roots in the water — big fellows, a foot or more across. Unfortunately, though, I could only catch brief glimpses, as they would dive into the water when I approached.

Except for one, my turtle. I found it sunning itself out on the remains of a cypress in the lake itself. I crept closer, closer, closer, and still it stayed. I even wondered if it had eggs and that’s why it wouldn’t leave, but I think the reason is, it just didn’t want to. I pulled out my long lens and took several pictures, not really able to see the turtle’s face through the lens. In fact I didn’t see the turtle’s face until I got home and loaded the photo into Photoshop.

Did you ever see a snootier turtle in your life? I have seen many photos of turtles, and they are a smug creature indeed, but none filled with such obvious disdain of the antics of lesser creatures. Now I know where the flowers are gone — I’m sure it ate them. Probably sat there and thought to itself with each crunchy bite, “HaHa stupid humans coming out for flowers. HaHa! *mumph* This is good! Tasty! HaHa, dumb humans. Now all they see is my poop.”

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I took as many photos from as many angles as I could of the turtle before finishing my walk around the lake. At the end, amidst a group of trees was a great splashing and ripple of movement as what must have been hundreds of young turtles swimming for deeper water.

Well, I’m sure there were dozens of young turtles.

Five or six, I’m positive.

One, at least. Oh, yes, I am confident of one.

Or, maybe it was a fish?