Microblog

Tim Cook’s company-wide email:

Apple has lost a visionary and creative genius, and the world has lost an amazing human being. Those of us who have been fortunate enough to know and work with Steve have lost a dear friend and an inspiring mentor. Steve leaves behind a company that only he could have built, and his spirit will forever be the foundation of Apple.

I’m saddened to hear of Steve Jobs’ passing. Perhaps I’m feeling especially close to it because of personal events that transpired in the last month, but I’m also deeply connected to Steve’s company and its products, which are embedded in my career, hobbies, and personal life. Steve Jobs was an inspiration to do great things, and his vision for technology and energy he brought to his work has certainly inspired me.

Today’s announcement from the American Historical Association regarding their annual meeting in Chicago in 2012 contained this great bit of news for digital history:

The AHA’s 126th Annual Meeting in Chicago this January 5-8, 2012, will feature nearly two dozen sessions on digital history. This series, titled The Future is Here, includes presentations, discussions, and demonstrations of how digital methods might assist historical research and the humanities in general.

Exciting news! I’m trilled to see DH doing some serious representing. For the record, here is the panel I’m on. Hope to catch up and/or meet up with a lot of you in Chicago.

This semester I am enrolled in a reading seminar on digital humanities with Professor William Thomas. The course is shaping up to be quite exciting: in addition to getting a better grasp on a wider range of digital humanities issues through our readings, we’re also building an iOS application in our first month. We will also be having visits with leaders in the field, including Robert Nelson at the University of Richmond, Stefan Sinclair at McGill University, and Lisa Spiro at NITLE Labs.

We’ll be writing up weekly discussions of our readings, and I will likely be posting those here. I’m making this post largely because I want a placeholder so as to link to all the posts in one spot.

If you’re interested in following along, you can find us on Twitter with the hashtag #UNL_DHS. My colleague, Brian Sarnacki, will also be blogging regularly about the course, as will Professor Thomas.

Weekly Writings

1. Organizing Knowledge
2. The Media of Digital Humanities
3. Electronic Text and the Digital Humanities
4. Information and Data in the Digital Age
5. Spatial Humanities and Visual Narratives
6. SpecLab and Digital Aesthetics
7. Models for Narrative in Digital Humanities
8. Latour and the Social
9. Peer Reviewing Writing History in the Digital Age
10. The Architecture of Humanities Cyberspace
11. What My lolcat Ate For Breakfast
12. Who Controls the Master Switch
13. Alone Together

In 1987 Apple Computer sponsored a competition called Project 2000. Apple challenged student design teams to submit designs of what computing technology looked like in 2000. In 1988 Apple produced a video illustrating the features and technologies that Apple saw just around the corner. The video doesn’t showcase the winning tablet design or students (a team from the University of Illinois wrote a paper called Tablet: The Personal Computer of the Year 2000) but the video hears from the judges on the panel, including Steve Wozniak, Alvin Toffler, Alan Kay, Diane Ravitch, and Ray Bradbury.

HT Paleofuture.

Visit link →

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the best ways to represent or illustrate technical skill in the digital humanities. In developing my C.V., for example, I wanted something more illustrative than just a list of programming languages that I’ve had experience with our touched in some way. Just because I have some rudimentary knowledge of Python I picked up two years ago, that doesn’t mean I’d feel comfortable getting hired as a Python expert (of course, I would hope the interview process would weed me out). Then again, there’s truth to the claim that once you know one language it’s fairly easy to pick up additional ones. So simply having knowledge of some sort of language will serve you well anyways. Plus, I get the sense that DH administrators expect a certain level of on-the-job training and are happy if you have demonstrated experience with a language because they know you’ll likely pick up the skills as you need them. (If you’re anything like me, you’ll stay up half the night reading up on how to do such and such or lurking on Stack Overflow for a solution).

But I still want some way to visualize my knowledge of technical skills, both as a way to make clear my own confidence in my skills and hopefully set myself apart from a stack of CV’s all vying for the same job. After doing some thinking I decided to try an experiment and visualize my technical knowledge base as a bar graph.

There are many ways to represent knowledge of technical skill. You could, like LinkedIn, list out the years that you’ve been working with a programming language as well as specify your level of experience (beginner, intermediate, and expert). While this is useful, I feel like there’s still a disconnect with knowledge and time. What exactly is “beginner” knowledge? Instead of just saying I was a beginner or writing out the amount of time I’ve been using a language (for example, I’ve been using Javascript for a while but by no means am I any good with it) I decided to find some way to visually represent both the duration of my skills and my confidence with the skill.

To start with, I built a simple timeline out of CSS to represent time. The far left of the bar graph would be the beginning of my technical skill. As you move right, new bar graphs are added to represent the initiation and duration of use for each skill through time:

I’m not sure this completely illustrates any key points. Part of the issue might be the lack of X and Y axis labels or milemarkers, but I’m also just not sure how useful the visualization is. But for the time being, I’m happy with it and think it does provide some idea of my technical timeline.

I achieved this through a brief piece of CSS code and some simple HTML markup.

CSS:

ul.events {
    list-style-type: none;
    margin: 0;
    padding: 0 0 20px 0;
}

ul.events li {
    background: #eee;
    border: 1px solid #ddd;
    color: #707070;
    font-size: 1em;
    font-weight: bold;
    margin-bottom: 6px;
    padding: 3px 0;
    position: relative;
    text-align: center;
    line-height: 12px;
}

ul.events li em {
    color: #aaa;
    font-weight: normal;
    font-size: 0.9em;
}

HTML:

<h3>Timeline of Technical Skills</h3>
<div class="timeline">
<ul class="events">
  <li style="width: 13.5%; left: 86%;">Java <em>(2011)</em></li>
  <li style="width: 29.5%; left: 70%;">Ruby <em>(2010 - 2011)</em></li>
  <li style="width: 39.5%; left: 60%;">PHP <em>(2009 - 2011)</em></li>
  <li style="width: 39.5%; left: 60%;">MySQL <em>(2009 - 2011)</em></li>
  <li style="width: 49.5%; left: 50%;">Python <em>(2008 - 2011)</em></li>
  <li style="width: 49.5%; left: 50%;">Javascript <em>(2008 - 2011)</em></li>
  <li style="width: 99.5%; left: 0;">HTML &amp; CSS <em>(1998 - 2011)</em></li>
</ul> <!-- end .events -->

The next idea was to continue with the bar graph theme to represent markup, query, and programming knowledge, along with application skills. I built this with a similar idea in mind: using CSS and envisioning a horizontal bar graph starting with 0% on the left and 100% on the right, I created a graph of my confidence and experience with various technical skills:

Again, this was accomplished through some CSS and HTML markup.

CSS:

div.progress-container {
    width: 680px;
    margin: 2px 5px 2px 0;
    padding: 1px;
    float: left;
    background: #cccccc;
}

div.progress-container > div {
    background-color: #4183c4;
    height: 12px;   
}

HTML:

<h2>Technical Skills</h2>
  <h3>Application Skills</h3>
  <table cellspacing="3" cellpadding="3">
    <tbody>
      <tr>
        <td width="150">Photoshop CS5</td>
        <td><div class="progress-container"><div style="width: 40%"></div></div></td>
      </tr>
      <tr>
        <td>Terminal</td>
        <td><div class="progress-container"><div style="width: 80%"></div></div></td>
      </tr>
    </tbody>
  </table>

The latest addition to the technical skills section of my CV is to demonstrate the application of these skills: rather than only communicate time and confidence, I also wanted to articulate in what capacity I’ve used these skills. At the moment I’ve simply listed these skills and related projects out, in a way that I think does a fair job of communication (although I’m still thinking about other ways to do this).

I feel that I’ve gotten a bit closer in trying to communicate technical knowledge, though with this much going on it almost overwhelms the CV. But in a field that’s actively seeking knowledgeable, technically-minded individuals this seems like a useful experiment in visualizing knowledge.

Recently on Boing Boing, Cory Doctorow pointed to this quote from John Scalzi arguing that writers needed to register their own domain rather than use Facebook:

So, let’s go back to 1998. You’re a new writer and you want to establish a permanent residency online. Which would be wiser: Having your own site at your own domain, or putting up a site at GeoCities?

It’s 2001, same drill: Which is wiser: Having your own domain, or creating a site on AOL servers?

2003: Your own domain, or a Friendster page?

2007: Your own domain, or a MySpace page?

(Hindsight is a useful thing.)

And now it’s 2011 and the choice is one’s own domain or a page on Facebook. Guess which I think you should do.

Even worse is the strange trend of people deciding that Google+ makes for a good blogging and identity platform.

I tweeted that this holds true for scholars, creative professionals, knowledge workers, and anyone else that requires an online presence (are there any areas of our economy and society where you shouldn’t have an online identity?). The problem with proprietary networks like Facebook and Google+ is they want to hold your content, which works against the durability, quality, and sustainability of your online identity.

Refuse to give up control over your identity. Own it.

Episode 23 of Back to Work is officially my favorite episode so far. There are a lot of great messages in the entire episode, but I was interested in Merlin Mann’s discussion of notebooks and writing.

I think there’s something important about your writing notebook: namely, it doesn’t matter what you’re writing in. You don’t need a twenty dollar Moleskine. You don’t need a leather-lined, gold paper edges, artisan paper journal. There’s something liberating about Natalie Goldberg, who writes in Snoopy-illustrated spiral bound notebooks.

I write in a cheap Moleskine knockoff I picked up at Target, and a softback grid-lined notepad that I picked up from somewhere. These two are my favorite notepads, and there isn’t anything that doesn’t go into these. It might be notes from a 5by5 episode, a single thought jotted down on a single page, mind maps, several pages of a thought I’m trying to work through, or even writing exercises. My notebooks come with me everywhere, either tossed into a pocket in my backpack, my back pants pocket, or at nerdier moments (my wife always threatens to buy me one of these) in my shirt pocket. I like Field Notes, but there are cheaper alternatives that I’ve opted to turn to instead.

To paraphrase Merlin: If you’ve got a notebook and you’re writing in it, you’ve got the right notebook. If you’ve got a notebook and you’re not writing in it, a new notebook isn’t going to help you.

UPDATE: The pen pictured is a needle point Tul I picked up from Office Depot. At the moment it’s my favorite pen.

I’m trying to incorporate Twitter into my workflow for Jekyll by allowing any new posts to the site to subsequently update Twitter. The script I’ve hacked together so far is very basic, and doesn’t yet do the job, but I thought I’d share what I have thus far.

Pretty easy to get this working. The script requires a couple of simple includes:

• twitter
• oauth

Then register your app to authenticate your new Ruby command line Twitter script to use OAuth. Write down the consumer and access public and private keys; you’ll need them to get things working. Once you’re ready, simply plug in your keys into this script:

# !/usr/bin/env ruby

# broadcastr.rb
# Simple Twitter updater built in Ruby
#
# Use: $ ruby broadcastr.rb "Tweeting with Ruby"
# 
# Created by Jason A. Heppler
#
# Last Modified: 2011-07-09

require "rubygems"
require "twitter"
require "oauth"

Twitter.configure do |config|
    config.consumer_key = 'INSERT_CONSUMER_KEY'
    config.consumer_secret = 'INSERT_CONSUMER_SECRET'
    config.oauth_token = 'INSERT_OAUTH_TOKEN'
    config.oauth_token_secret = 'INSERT_OAUTH_SECRET'
end

client = Twitter::Client.new

twttr_update = ARGV[0]

client.update(twttr_update)

You can run this by calling up Ruby or make the script executable and edit your bash PATH in your .bashrc file (don’t forget to refresh .bashrc after you modify it).

You can update Twitter by writing:

$ ./broadcastr.rb "I'm tweeting from the command line, yo!"

An interesting presentation on the military history of Silicon Valley. The topic is right up my alley since my research agenda has shifted recently to computers and the North American West.

Some good writing advice from Cory Doctorow:

• Short, regular work schedule
  When I’m working on a story or novel, I set a modest daily goal — usually a page or two — and then I meet it every day, doing nothing else while I’m working on it. It’s not plausible or desirable to try to get the world to go away for hours at a time, but it’s entirely possible to make it all shut up for 20 minutes. Writing a page every day gets me more than a novel per year — do the math — and there’s always 20 minutes to be found in a day, no matter what else is going on. Twenty minutes is a short enough interval that it can be claimed from a sleep or meal-break (though this shouldn’t become a habit). The secret is to do it every day, weekends included, to keep the momentum going, and to allow your thoughts to wander to your next day’s page between sessions. Try to find one or two vivid sensory details to work into the next page, or a bon mot, so that you’ve already got some material when you sit down at the keyboard.

• Leave yourself a rough edge
  When you hit your daily word-goal, stop. Stop even if you’re in the middle of a sentence. Especially if you’re in the middle of a sentence. That way, when you sit down at the keyboard the next day, your first five or ten words are already ordained, so that you get a little push before you begin your work. Knitters leave a bit of yarn sticking out of the day’s knitting so they know where to pick up the next day — they call it the “hint.” Potters leave a rough edge on the wet clay before they wrap it in plastic for the night — it’s hard to build on a smooth edge.

• Don’t research
  Researching isn’t writing and vice-versa. When you come to a factual matter that you could google in a matter of seconds, don’t. Don’t give in and look up the length of the Brooklyn Bridge, the population of Rhode Island, or the distance to the Sun. That way lies distraction — an endless click-trance that will turn your 20 minutes of composing into a half-day’s idyll through the web. Instead, do what journalists do: type “TK” where your fact should go, as in “The Brooklyn bridge, all TK feet of it, sailed into the air like a kite.” “TK” appears in very few English words (the one I get tripped up on is “Atkins”) so a quick search through your document for “TK” will tell you whether you have any fact-checking to do afterwards. And your editor and copyeditor will recognize it if you miss it and bring it to your attention.

• Don’t be ceremonious
  Forget advice about finding the right atmosphere to coax your muse into the room. Forget candles, music, silence, a good chair, a cigarette, or putting the kids to sleep. It’s nice to have all your physical needs met before you write, but if you convince yourself that you can only write in a perfect world, you compound the problem of finding 20 free minutes with the problem of finding the right environment at the same time. When the time is available, just put fingers to keyboard and write. You can put up with noise/silence/kids/discomfort/hunger for 20 minutes.

• Kill your word-processor
  Word, Google Office and OpenOffice all come with a bewildering array of typesetting and automation settings that you can play with forever. Forget it. All that stuff is distraction, and the last thing you want is your tool second-guessing you, “correcting” your spelling, criticizing your sentence structure, and so on. The programmers who wrote your word processor type all day long, every day, and they have the power to buy or acquire any tool they can imagine for entering text into a computer. They don’t write their software with Word. They use a text-editor, like vi, Emacs, TextPad, BBEdit, Gedit, or any of a host of editors. These are some of the most venerable, reliable, powerful tools in the history of software (since they’re at the core of all other software) and they have almost no distracting features — but they do have powerful search-and-replace functions. Best of all, the humble .txt file can be read by practically every application on your computer, can be pasted directly into an email, and can’t transmit a virus.

• Realtime communications tools are deadly
  The biggest impediment to concentration is your computer’s ecosystem of interruption technologies: IM, email alerts, RSS alerts, Skype rings, etc. Anything that requires you to wait for a response, even subconsciously, occupies your attention. Anything that leaps up on your screen to announce something new, occupies your attention. The more you can train your friends and family to use email, message boards, and similar technologies that allow you to save up your conversation for planned sessions instead of demanding your attention right now helps you carve out your 20 minutes. By all means, schedule a chat — voice, text, or video — when it’s needed, but leaving your IM running is like sitting down to work after hanging a giant “DISTRACT ME” sign over your desk, one that shines brightly enough to be seen by the entire world.

I’m on the way to fulfilling some of these (such as junking the word processor) but need some work on others (a regular work schedule in particular).

Visit link →