Categories
Weblogging Writing

New O’Reilly book on weblogging

We’ve been given the go ahead from O’Reilly, the “…FRIENDLIEST and most WONDERFUL publisher we’ve ever dealt with” (sorry, a little editor tease there), to announce a new book on weblogging!

Among the authors is yours truly, writing the chapters on Blogger. I’m joined by Mena and Ben Trott writing about Movable TypeScott Johnson who’s been dropping hints about the book, Rael Dornfest from O’Reilly, and Cory Doctorow of Boing Boing fame. Nathan Torkington is the editor that has to manage this wild and wooly crowd.

The book should be out in September. Start saving your pennies now.

The name of the book will either be Weblogging Essentials or Practical Weblogging. My preference of course is for the latter since I’m also writing Practical RDF.

Categories
Weblogging Writing

In support of Content

Normally I don’t insert my body into the ranks of the weblogging intelligentsia when AKMA, Searls, Weinberger, Himmer, and so on become deeply engaged in cross-blogging about particularly heavy and philosophical topics. I’m usually happy to just sit back and watch the flow — brain pushups.

However, when the topic is “content” and the by-play between participants is so interesting, why I just have to jump in. My only worry is that the gang will take one look at my efforts and throw me back. My eyes are clear, and my scales are firm, so we can hope.

The thread root seems to be a posting that Doc made, in which he says:

That’s why it’s no coincidence that when Big Media (and .com wannabe Big Media) saw the Web, they took everything we used to call “art,” “editorial,” “music,” and “news” — and recharacterized it all as “content.” Because “content” is something you ship, something you distribute. It’s not necessarily something you share.

Doc has a very good point — is the use of the word “content” a way of demeaning what we write? Instead of literature, we create content. Instead of art, we create content?

Weinberger continues on this theme when he states:

Links not only literally make the Web a web, but the nature of those links determines almost everything that is interesting and important about it. Content is to the Web as zombies are to human culture.

Beautifully said. Powerful. And Halley responds in agreement, stating “People who use the word ‘content’ make my words into whores.”

Chris fearlessly drenches his feathers by jumping in, cannon ball style with:

Shuffling, whether off the mortal coil, or into the spotlight, it’s the motion, not the meat, mama. The medium ain’t worth a rat’s posterior. The eye is drawn to motion – ‘don’t move or he’ll see us’ is whispered child’s-voice breathlessly in a technicolour dream of Monsters Under The Bed.

When Wonder Chicken turns demented owl, there is no better read on the web.

AKMA, my favorite man of the cloth used the dastardly word and paid the ultimate price. However, he saves the theological bacon with a lovely posting, containing among other things:

If we distinguish web “content” from any other aspect of online textuality–MIDI background music (argh), Flash animations, “blink” tags, Java-scripted moving buttons, whatever–we deny the meaningfulness of auditory, graphical, kinetic stiumuli, a pretty mess into which I wish I hadn’t stepped.

By the way, AKMA, how’s the term DylanBoy for Mike Golby, who also added his thoughts to the fray with “stuff happens”.

If each of these postings was a unique note, this symphony would be a keeper.

Being the curious sort, I did a Thesaurus search on content. Following is a summarized view of the results:

Of well-being and affections
Existence in space, being both the dissenter and the noncomformist
Averse acquiescence, uncontradicted
Cordial and cheery to the marrow, from the bone
These dainty comforts, scraps from the album

Odd, but when you look at “content” this way, I don’t mind being a content creator.

Categories
Diversity Just Shelley

Associations

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Mike Golby found another “friend”, Stone Reynolds, who seems to be unhappy at Mike’s treatment of another weblogger, Mike Sanders.

However, in an amazing display of twisted brotherhood, Mike Golby states:

There’s something decidedly odd about this guy. His half-formed views appall me but I find, dare I say it, a sense of humor, in his writing. And a sense of humor, they say, is everything (of course, it could be a mask hiding naked hatred but, like my friend Christopher Locke, I am a professional and can handle any situation should it turn ugly).

So, I’ll be stopping by at a hell of a note from time to time – if only to swap gratuitous insults and find out what’s going down in the world of racism, sexism, anything lewd and smutty, the good ol’ boys, the loony right, etc. Look at it this way. If St0ne Freeman is a friend of WonderChicken’s, how can he not be a friend of mine?

To which Stone replies:

I promptly posted a comment there expressing my thanks and overall flabbergasmic response to his review.

Sounds good to me…and PageCount: Into The Lake of Fire joins my linklist

All of this would be interesting, except for the fact that I got dragged into this indirectly.

It seems that Stone doesn’t have too high an opinion of me for my “mistreatment” of Mike Sanders, either. But he continues his lack of high opinion elsewhere with little tidbits like the following:

And, speaking of MT and self-respecting ‘bloggers, burningbird, for all her l33t skillz, needed help from stavros to get MT installed. I’m not sure what that says about MT, or the flamingfowl…but if Dave had any difficulty with the installation, he hasn’t yet mentioned it.

Seeing all this, Mike Golby writes:

And, from there on in (while doffing his cap this way and that to various and vicious warbloggers of note), St0ne proceeds to rip into Shelley (for whom he nurses a dark and secret passion), Jeneane, Dave Winer, and me.

To which Freeman responds with:

There’s something decidedly odd about this guy”, Golby notices. I can’t argue with that, but I vigorously dispute the “dark and secret passion” he alleges I nurse for Shelley Powers.

I have a sense of humor. I really do. And I appreciate that both Stone and Mike got a chuckle out of this interchange. However, I found my association with the phrase and the entire exchange to be demeaning.

A simple phrase — funny or interesting for one person, embarrassing or painful to another. Thoughtless associations. Stupid word tricks.

Guilty as charged.

I wrote a posting last week that talked about Mike and Chris Locke and how much I admire and envy their writing skills. In this posting I used an association, a phrase, that looking back now I realize I shouldn’t have used. I pulled and re-posted this several times since, but pulled it permanently today.

Categories
Just Shelley

Moving…

If you’ve read this weblog for any length of time than you know I’m rather partial to San Francisco.

Unfortunately, it looks like I’ll be having to move. San Francisco is now known as the most expensive city in the US. It’s also a place where every technical contracting position has 200+ applicants. These two facts aren’t necessarily mutually compatible.

What a bitch.

I could be more eloquent, but “what a bitch” sums up the situation quite nicely.

Categories
Just Shelley

Decisions decisions

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

There is nothing more implacable than a decision waiting to be made.

It can shake you out of sleep, pulling the covers off, forcing you out of bed and to your feet. It can hover around you during your waking hours, beating at you with tiny, subliminal fists of frustration.

As time passes the decision grows and swells and bulges and puffs out and enlarges and stretches and expands. Your attempts to fend it off become weaker as it smothers you in it’s soft folds, pushes you against the wall, rolls over you as you try to run.

Poets write of Decision. In The Road Not Taken Frost wrote:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler

The poem ends with “…and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

In this poem Frost sees Decision as noble — Man choosing to follow his own path rather than following the crowd. Compare this to Dorothy Parker’s caustic and brutally direct ‘Resumé:

Razors pain you; Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful; Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.

No nobility here — life as a lesser of evils.

Not all decisions are the same. Whether to choose strawberry ice cream or chocolate is but a moment’s thought; after all, one can choose chocolate tomorrow when choosing strawberry today. There are an infinite number of these decisions made in a life; exercise to keep your decision making capabilities from getting flabby from disuse.

Some decisions can only be made after sleepless nights and days spent in thought, little scales in your mind working overtime. To have a child or not. To marry or not. To make this move, buy this house, take this job, follow this path. Or not.

Regardless of the magnitude or its impact, once the the decision is made, you’re free of the weight, the monster has rolled on. This leaves plenty of room for Decision’s younger brother, Regret.