Categories
Technology

In celebration of technology

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

It seems everywhere you look within the high tech industry, all you see is doom and gloom — closed companies, laid off employees, crashing Internet stock. I feel as if I should stand on top of a tall mountain, shouting out, “Is anyone still left in the technology industry!?!”

At the bottom of some of my emails I’ve posted the following:

Will the last person leaving the Internet, please turn off the router?

Have we all forgotten why we’re in this industry? Have we forgotten the joy and satisfaction over mastering a new technology, creating something from nothing? If you look around, you’ll see that not only is the high tech industry NOT dead — there’s an incredible wealth of wonderful new technology out there, most of it free or at least freely available. As poor as we are financially, now, we’ve never been richer when it comes to sheer capacity for technical advancement.

So, we’re heading into a recession. Well, in the last recession, back in the early 90’s, a gentleman named Tim Berners-Lee brought together some disparate technologies into this new thing called “the Web”. And he didn’t have the huge volume of “tech toys” to play with we do now.

Instead of looking back on what once was, we should be looking forward with eagar anticipation to what will be — the next great technical innovation, the next Web, the next revolution, the next reason why most of us entered this field for the first place.

Did I get a computer degree because I wanted to be rich and drive a BMW? When I got my degree in 1987, there weren’t many jobs in the computer field. Those that existed were, for the most part, already filled by old time engineers (no offense). There certainly wasn’t a web, though the Internet existed and was publicly accessible.

I ended up in this field because one day I sat down at an old green on black monitor and typed in a few commands in this language called “basic”, on this OS called Vax VMS, and the computer responded. I wasn’t a computer geek — I was studying law of all things. I only took the computer class because my logic teacher suggested I do so because I liked logic, and had a knack for it. However, when that computer responded, all bets were off, and I started my oddessey into, and my love, of technology that I continue to this day.

So, am I going to run away because we’ve hit another recession? No. No. Again, I say, No.

My current contract ends shortly and there are few contracts in San Francisco, at least until next year (end of the year is bad in the best of times). Rather than panic, I’m going to take this time to work with all these new technologies in a way I haven’t since I worked at Skyfish, my one and only foray into the world of dot coms.

(See article Death of a Dot Com at O’Reilly.)

Yes, I’m dipping into my reserves, and I may not find work next year, and may be out on the street (at least San Francisco has mild weather). Every time I receive a bill in the mail or pay my outrageous San Francisco rent, I am concerned.

BUT (big but here), I’m not going to throw my hands in to the air saying “Well, the dot coms have busted. It’s all over. I’m packing it in, and giving up”. I will not run because times are difficult; I will not give up because being in this field is no longer easy.

And I’m definitely not going to let some gutless wonder with a cult fixation on the other side of the world take away something that’s meant so much to me for so many years, as he’s taken away so much — including life — from so many others.

Categories
RDF

SDForum Talk: RDF and the Semantic Web

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I’ll be speaking about RDF and the Semantic Web at the SDForum in San Francisco, October 9th.

See more on the topic at the forum posting.

Categories
Just Shelley

51,000+ DotCom Layoffs…

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Being one of those that are part of a steeply growing curve, a layed off dot comer, I found the article Silicon Valley Workers Head Home in the Australian IT to be very interesting.

According to a source quoted in the article, there have been over 51,564 people laid off from DotComs…to date.

I bucked the trend and actually moved to San Francisco from Boston — and I found a new contract within a couple of weeks. Note, though, that I do have a number of years of experience, and with some fairly significant technologies. Still, before we attend a wake for the Internet, time for a reality check folks. The Internet and technology businesses are down, but they ain’t dead.

Categories
Just Shelley

New City, New Servers

The Burning Bird Corporation is now open for business in beautiful San Francisco. What can I say folks, but I love this city!

In addition, I’ve aggregated all of my web sites on to one server. Hopefully the move will go smoothly, but if you find pages missing or out of synch, most likely they didn’t survive the move. Please send me an email with the missing reference.

The Burning Bird (formerly known as YASD) is being joined by other web sites on the Burning Bird Network. Among the new Webs to be posted will sites focusing on travel and art. Man does not live by technology alone…and neither does Woman.

If you’re in the San Francisco area, drop me an email, say Hi, let me know the good restaurants, walks, etc. I would be appreciative.

Categories
Writing

Bits of prose

A long time ago in a place far, far away, and long before I started writing articles and books on computer technology, I used to write poems. Well, I called them poems.

Recently, I found a folder of poems and decided to put my three favorite online. I’m aware that this could result in a mass exodus from Books & Bytes, but what the hey, we all have to live on the edge sometimes.

One poem is about breaking up; one was written in protest of war and conflict; and one is about the Holocaust. Three different subjects with one common theme of loss — from the personal to the profound.

Letting Go

This poem is about breaking up and landing on your feet.

Love Lost. Letting Go. We hold on with clutching, grasping hands.
Desperation. It really does hurt.
     Grasp a rose, and let the thorns sink deep.
     We choke the flower through fear of the release.
        As if...
            we can stop....
                 the pain...
     By not letting go.

Letting Go. It means loss and loneliness. 
What will I do without this person? 
I can't imagine life without him. It's really 
hard to smile and laugh and to enjoy just 
getting up each day.
     Hello sunshine and good-bye and 
     please go away.
     I would rather have clouds right now,
     okay?
        As if...
            we can stop...
                the pain...
     by enjoying it.

Enjoying it? Yes! We throw ourselves into the loss and live within it.
That will show him! Look at what he has done to me! 
But guilt is an odd sort of weapon.
     With guilt as the hook and 
     self-pity as the line,
     the fisherman may catch a fish,
     that bites back. 
        As if...
            we can stop...
                the pain...
     by using tricks.

Tricks belong in magic shows, not in love. 
If you use tricks to keep a love alive, eventually it 
will turn ugly.
And then what will you have?
    The beauty of the dreaming is in the 
    waking.
    Then you have something to carry 
    with you all day.
        As if...
           we can stop...
               the pain...
    by remembering the joy.

You can hold love within a memory. Tuck a little away 
somewhere in your mind. Bring it out to give yourself a smile
sometimes. 
It's hard now, but it will get easier. 
Sometimes the true test of love is not the having,
but the loosing. 
Choose to walk away a better person.
    Walking away.
            You can...
               You can stop...
                  the pain...
     by just letting go.

Tommy Joe is Dead

I wrote this poem a long time ago, and it included references to violence in Tel Aviv and Rhodesia — hot spots at the time. I’ve modernized the references, but unfortunately, the sentiment is still fresh.

Tommy Joe is Dead.

Some would call it fate,
he died that day, that way,
that year.
Others would call it bad luck.
Those who loved him can only cry,
shake their heads and wonder why.

Tommy Joe is Dead.

Mom and Dad had high hopes, 
their boy would be the best.
All their frustrated dreams 
would be lived by him, through him.
He would be what they wanted to be,
and never dared.

Tommy Joe is dead.

Carrie was his love, his hope,
his future mate.
Together they would change the world,
make the world;
high hopes only youth can feel,
high dreams only youth can dream

Tommy Joe is Dead.

He could be your lover, your brother,
son or friend.
He could have been your father 
if fate, or luck, had been different.
He is a memory now, perhaps forgotten,
that most noble soul -- 
a person who died for a cause.

Tommy Joe is Dead.

He died in the jungles of Nam,
the streets of Ulster;
a young boy shot down in Uganda.
A nameless face, a faceless name,
all for a cause.
How sad, a young life wasted.

Tommy Joe is Dead.

The Burnt Offering

The television mini-series “The Holocaust” was first telecast when I was going to college. A history teacher at the school had a three day class on the Holocaust that I attended.

On the last day of the class, the teacher had us go to an auditorium where he showed film after film of the atrocities committed by the Nazis.

I attended the showing with a close friend who was Jewish, and she broke down in sobs during the films but wouldn’t leave. None of us could leave. Aside from the people crying, there wasn’t a sound in that auditorium — not a sound.

The poem “Burnt Offering” was a result of this day. I’ll never forget. Will you?

My eyes have been opened.
I can no longer plead ignorance 
because I know, and that knowledge 
will not leave me!

A thousand voices cry out, 
"Do not forget us, Remember!"
A million faces haunt my dreams.
The responsibility is mine -- 
not to forget, the Curse of Man.

We turn from the ugliness,
not in disbelief but in recognition.
We fear our inner animal.
To see ugliness in others,
is to see it within ourselves.

We fear that which is different.
We fear ourselves, and what 
we can do.
And we fear these fears, 
and hate steps in.

We turn from knowledge; the 
price of knowledge is responsibility.
We don't know if we have the strength
to accept, so we turn.

I will turn no more!
I will learn, though 
learning is pain.
And I will not forget the warning,
of the Burnt Offering.