Categories
Connecting Weblogging Writing

Bali

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Dave Winer starts a posting today with the title Whining Matilda, in response to the — legitimate — complaints of lack of coverage of the Bali bombing in the American press. He writes:

There are plenty of Australian weblogs. The Web is worldwide. Cover it, explain it, grieve it, if the US press isn’t covering it, route around them. Use the tools.

Dave, I’m sorry, but you sadly missed the point.

The vast majority of the people in this country have never heard of weblogs. It isn’t up to weblogs to provide the news because the American press focuses only on American pain. And by focusing only on American pain, we complete a picture that most of the world has of us: that we’re shallow, self-centered, egotistical isolationists who only care for our own dead, our own pain.

Dave, It isn’t that webloggers aren’t getting news; that’s not the point. It’s that the world sees that Americans don’t care.

But we do care. And we care even more every time we see a new face among the dead, read about someone else’s loss.

I’ve wanted to talk about this bombing for the last two days, but just didn’t know what to say. The words wouldn’t come. Today, though, I was reminded that, sometimes, it doesn’t matter that we speak eloquently, just that we speak.

To my friends who live in Australia and in Indonesia, and to all of those in the world who have lost loved ones, my deepest and most sincere sympathy. To all those who have been injured, my strongest hopes that you heal quickly, and find peace from the pain and the fear.

Categories
Weblogging

Bali’s right next door

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Chris writes:

My buddy Rick, one of my oldest friends and dearest, has been in Bali for a few weeks. My mate the Bearman got an email from him a couple of days ago, and apparently Rick was partying it up in Kuta last Friday night. The bomb went off on Saturday night, and we’ve been trying to get in touch with him since. So far, we’ve heard nothing.

 

Just woke up. He’s alive, and on this list as ‘Richard H. Gluosom’. No idea yet what his condition is, though.

I’m not a praying person, Chris, Bearman. But I’m a hoping person. And right at this moment, I’m hoping for you and I’m hoping with all my might for your friend. I’m hoping a whole hell of a lot.

Categories
Just Shelley Weblogging

To sleep, perchance to dream

All I’ve wanted to do for the past few weeks is sleep. As soon as the sun goes down, I’m ready for bed. I’m ready for bed now, and it’s only 7:45pm.

It’s not the weather — Fall is my favorite time of the year, and the weather has been wonderful lately. And it isn’t the book, as it’s been going very well. For instance, today I had an extremely productive day working with, and writing about, HP’s Jena — a Java RDF API. And I played a bit with IsaView a graphical RDF authoring tool.

I’ve been out walking every day or almost every day, so I’m getting exercise. My appetite’s down, but I can stand to lose some weight.

Wanting to sleep my life away is bad enough, but when I do sleep, my nights are filled with dreams — color, sound, and I swear smell and taste and touch. Especially touch. Last night I dreamed I was sitting down on the ground and a friend I hadn’t seen for over ten years was looking down at me, giving me a wry smile, hands on her hips. She reached down to give me a hand up, and I could feel her hand in mine. What was astonishing is that my mind made her image approximately ten years older than the last time I saw her.

(I didn’t know my unconscious mind was so clever. I’ll have to let it out to play more often.)

A couple of days ago, I dreamed that I had to take a job working on an assembly line at a local factory that makes bombs. Not hard to figure out the roots of that dream, is it?

Those are the dreams I can tell you about. The one’s I can’t (or won’t) discuss online are rich with sensory impressions that last long into the day. When I walked at Tower Grove tonight, a couple of times it seemed as if the dream world overlaid the ‘real’ world, and I would stop walking a moment to savor the double vision the effect created.

Mark has running, Loren has hiking, half of the people in my blogroll are at conferences, except for a few (Gary and Steve), who are weblogging other webloggers as they weblog (and who seriously need to have their computers removed from their possession before they hurt themselves), Jonathon is fantasizing about sexy women he can’t have, Shannon’s sucking on candy cigarettesyou’re reading this…

And all I want to do is sleep.


stonebridge

Categories
Weblogging Writing

Essential blogging

“Essential Blogging” has hit the streets, available at a bookstore near you. O’Reilly has put my chapter, “Advanced Blogger”, online if you want a peek.

I haven’t received my copies yet. Hopefully soon.

In the meantime, I’m finishing up the writing for the RDF book in the next few weeks. Time to weblog less, work on book more.

Categories
Weblogging

Pulling a Shelley

Recovered  from the Wayback Machine.

There are several webloggers I admire not just because of their facility with writing, but also because they stand by what they write. They may debate their words, but they don’t retract them, and rarely regret them.

In particular, I’ve always liked Jonathon Delacour’s tenacity when it comes to his writing. His work doesn’t always follow the popular path (and I don’t always agree with what he writes) but he stands by his writing with humor, elegance, and skill and without becoming belligerant or defensive when it’s questioned or even attacked.

(Does anyone remember You and I both know, Dave, that the breathtaking hypocrisy of “Where Men Can Link, But They Can’t Touch” isn’t going to get “looked at” any time soon, not by the BlogSisters nor by anyone else in the blogging universe?).

When AKMA writes about confidentiality, or Dorothea writes about self perception and ugliness, neither is taking a “popular” view on their subjects, but both are writing from the heart. They stand by their writing.

Loren once used the term “Pullling a Shelley” to denote putting one’s foot in one’s mouth — writing something regreted, which is then either pulled or apologized for. And I agree with Loren, that I have been “pulling a Shelley” far too frequently. However, my use of the term is perhaps not in the sense that Loren intended.

Lately I’ve been writing more and more “from the heart”, but then I don’t have either the strength or the courage to stand by what I write. And if people I like or respect disagree or question what I write, or I don’t get positive feedback and lots of comments, I tend to equivocate, explain, retract, or apologize for my writing.

My last posting is a classic example of “Pulling a Shelley”. By putting myself into an apologetic stance within the comments, by ‘explaining’ what I was trying to write, I didn’t stand by my writing. And what I wrote was lessened because of my wanting to ‘please’ my audience, even though my audience wasn’t asking for either a retraction or an explanation — they wanted a dialogue.

I think if there is one trait I have that can be said to be stereotypically ‘feminine’, it’s fear of alienating people I like, or whom I want to like me. Unfortunately, this fear of losing affection carries over into my writing.

Earlier today, I caught myself in the act of “Pulling a Shelley” in comments attached to one of Jonathon’s postings. In the them, Mark Pilgrim wrote:

“Work that is accessible in every sense of the word” is such an incredible weasel phrase. It’s like a philosophy freshman who is losing a philosophical argument and falls back to the “dictionary definition” of some technical term in order to make their point.

I’m becoming Stallman. I can just see it.

I wrote in response, You’re not in danger of becoming Stallman, Mark. But you are in danger of becoming intolerant in your zeal.

Later in the afternoon, I found myself going back to Jonathon’s comments, wanting to attach, if not an apology, at least a softening of my comment. Yet, there’s no need for such prevarication — my statement wasn’t a personal attack on Mark and wasn’t said to hurt him or antagonize him. It was my honest opinion based on his statement — why do I feel this need to apologize for it?

There’s a difference between writing to antagonize — to generate buzz or to deliberately create controversy — and writing from the heart. If one writes from the heart, no matter how difficult the writing is for our audience, then we have an obligation to ourselves and to our readers to stand by what we write — not in defensiveness, but with openess and honesty.

Time for me to stop “Pulling a Shelley”. Perhaps I’ll try “Pulling a Loren”, instead…