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dotReader is out 
11.30.2006, 9:38 AM
dotReader, "an open source, cross-platform content reader/management system with an extensible, plug-in architecture," is available now in beta for Windows and Linux, and should be out for Mac any day now. For now, dotReader is just for reading but a content creation tool is promised for the very near future.
The reader has some nice features like shared bookmarks and annotations, a tab system for moving between multiple texts and an embedded web browser. In many ways it feels like a web browser that's been customized for books. I can definitely see it someday becoming a fully web-based app. The recently released Firefox 2 has a bunch of new features like live bookmarks (live feed headlines in drop-down menus on your bookmarks toolbar) and a really nice embedded RSS reader. It's a pretty good bet that online office suites, web browsers and standalone reading programs are all on the road to convergence.
Congrats to the OSoft team and to David Rothman of Teleread, who has worked with them on implementing the Open Reader standard in dotReader.
Posted by ben vershbow at 9:38 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
getting beyond accuracy in the wikipedia debate 11.29.2006, 1:56 PM
First Monday has published findings from an "empirical examination of Wikipedia's credibility" conducted by Thomas Chesney, a Lecturer in Information Systems at the Nottingham University Business School. Chesney divided participants in the study -- 69 PhD students, research fellows and research assistants -- into "expert" and "non-expert" groups. This meant that roughly half were asked to evaluate an article from their field of expertise while the others were given one chosen at random (short "stub" articles excluded). The surprise finding of the study is that the experts rated their articles higher than the non-experts. Ars Technica reported this as the latest shocker in the debate over Wikipedia's accuracy, hearkening back to the controversial Nature study comparing science articles with equivalent Britannica entries.
At a first glance, the findings are indeed counterintuitive but it's unclear what, if anything, they reveal. It's natural that academics would be more guarded about topics outside their area of specialty. The "non-experts" in this group were put on less solid ground, confronted at random by the overwhelming eclecticism of Wikipedia -- it's not surprising that their appraisal was more reserved. Chesney acknowledges this, and cautions readers not to take this as anything approaching definitive proof of Wikipedia's overall quality. Still, one wonders if this is even the right debate to be having.
Accuracy will continue to be a focal point in the Wikipedia discussion, and other studies will no doubt be brought forth that add fuel to this or that side. But the bigger question, especially for scholars, concerns the pedagogical implications of the wiki model itself. Wikipedia is not an encyclopedia in the Britannica sense, it's a project about knowledge creation -- a civic arena in which experts and non-experts alike can collectively assemble information. What then should be the scholar's approach and/or involvement? What guidelines should they draw up for students? How might they use it as a teaching tool?
A side note: One has to ask whether the experts group in Chesney's study leaned more toward the sciences or the humanities -- no small question since in Wikipedia it's the latter that tends to be the locus of controversy. It has been generally acknowledged that science, technology (and pop culture) are Wikipedia's strengths while the more subjective fields of history, literature, philosophy -- not to mention contemporary socio-cultural topics -- are a mixed bag. Chesney does never tells us how broad or narrow a cross section of academic disciplines is represented in his very small sample of experts -- the one example given is "a member of the Fungal Biology and Genetics Research Group (in the Institute of Genetics at Nottingham University)."
Returning to the question of pedagogy, and binding it up with the concern over quality of Wikipedia's coverage of humanities subjects, I turn to Roy Rosenzweig, who has done some of the most cogent thinking on what academics -- historians in particular -- ought to do with Wikipedia. From "Can History be Open Source? Wikipedia and the Future of the Past":
Professional historians have things to learn not only from the open and democratic distribution model of Wikipedia but also from its open and democratic production model. Although Wikipedia as a product is problematic as a sole source of information, the process of creating Wikipedia fosters an appreciation of the very skills that historians try to teach...Participants in the editing process also often learn a more complex lesson about history writing--namely that the "facts" of the past and the way those facts are arranged and reported are often highly contested...
Thus, those who create Wikipedia's articles and debate their contents are involved in an astonishingly intense and widespread process of democratic self-education. Wikipedia, observes one Wikipedia activist, "teaches both contributors and the readers. By empowering contributors to inform others, it gives them incentive to learn how to do so effectively, and how to write well and neutrally." The classicist James O'Donnell has argued that the benefit of Wikipedia may be greater for its active participants than for its readers: "A community that finds a way to talk in this way is creating education and online discourse at a higher level."...
Should those who write history for a living join such popular history makers in writing history in Wikipedia? My own tentative answer is yes. If Wikipedia is becoming the family encyclopedia for the twenty-first century, historians probably have a professional obligation to make it as good as possible. And if every member of the Organization of American Historians devoted just one day to improving the entries in her or his areas of expertise, it would not only significantly raise the quality of Wikipedia, it would also enhance popular historical literacy. Historians could similarly play a role by participating in the populist peer review process that certifies contributions as featured articles.
Posted by ben vershbow at 1:56 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
brewster kahle on the google book search "nightmare" 11.28.2006, 7:14 AM
"Pretty much Google is trying to set themselves up as the only place to get to these materials; the only library; the only access. The idea of having only one company control the library of human knowledge is a nightmare."
From a video interview with Elektrischer Reporter (click image to view).
(via Google Blogoscoped)
Posted by ben vershbow at 7:14 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
google makes slight improvements to book search interface 11.28.2006, 6:32 AM
Google has added a few interface niceties to its Book Search book viewer. It now loads multiple pages at a time, giving readers the option of either scrolling down or paging through left to right. There's also a full screen reading mode and a "more about this book" link taking you to a profile page with links to related titles plus references and citations from other books or from articles in Google Scholar. Also on the profile page is a searchable keyword cluster of high-incidence names or terms from the text.
Above is the in-copyright Signet Classic edition of Billy Budd and Other Tales by Melville, which contains only a limited preview of the text. You can also view the entire original 1856 edition of Piazza Tales as scanned from the Stanford Library. Public domain editions like this one can now be viewed with facing pages.
Still a conspicuous lack of any annotation or social reading tools.
Posted by ben vershbow at 6:32 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
russian ideas, british delivery 11.27.2006, 10:18 AM
This weekend I watched a performance of Voyage, the first part of Tom Stoppard's new trilogy, The Coast of Utopia. It's pure Stoppard: erudition delivered in a crossfire of dialogue and movement, skipping through time like a smartly thrown stone.
It is the story of young Russian intellectuals—Michael Bakunin, Nickolai Stankevich, Vissarion Belinsky, Alexander Herzen, Ivan Turgenev, Nicholas Ogarev—discovering foreign philosophy during the time of Tsar Nicholas I (a particularly conservative government). The young men, driven by Bakunin (played by Ethan Hawke), investigate the philosophies of Kant, Schelling, Goethe, Fichte, and Hegel. Bakunin ferociously pursues each philosopher and sprays his new knowledge at everyone he knows—most significantly his four sisters. By sharing books, writing letters, and expounding during summer visits to the family home he becomes the main vector of change in their lives. This first play is as much about the sisters' struggle to withstand the shifting currents of MIchael's idealism as it is about the early days of Russian intellectualism, or the last days of slavery in Russia, or the collision between ideas and reality.
Stoppard weaves these different themes together so deftly you can hardly tell where one ends and another begins. More importantly, it's difficult to see how you could have one absent the others. The first act of the play is set at Premukhino, the Bakunin family estate, over the course of seven years. A phalanx of ragged bodies is set in the background, behind a sheer scrim representing the serfs. Their presence is constant, menacing, but generally unobtrusive to the Bakunin family, as they go about their own tumults brought on by one thing or another that Michael has done. At times you forget the serfs are there, and then, suddenly, you'll look up and see the staggered rows of ragged bodies and a sense of foreboding descends.
The second act is set in Moscow, during the same seven years. Stoppard rewinds time to show us how events in the city led to the disruptions at Premukhino. The action in the city is invested with a sense of urgency, where the young men verbally joust as they try to define their latest position with regard to the newest book they've read. Moscow is a hotbed of anti-tsarist sentiment and foreign idealism. The political tension is high, the sensation of fear and revolt bubbles just below the surface. But Moscow is also an incubator for love, and it is there we witness the first real contact between humans, not just the meeting of like minds.
The play is a tour of European philosophy in the 1800's, and it is highly ambitious (something you could say about any 9-hour trilogy, I suppose). But it is, nevertheless, gripping stuff. Billy Crudup does an amazing turn as Belinsky, completely inhabiting the character and committing to the moment. Ethan Hawke was fine as Bakunin, though his insouciance had a Reality Bites mopiness that seemed out of place in a young man who was struggling to bring Mother Russia into the modern era. The performance in the second act was more balanced and more powerful.
Prior to seeing the play I was concerned that the first act of a trilogy would have a sense of being open in the way a cliffhanger is open. I was watching it with two visitors from out of town, and it is unlikely they'll be able to return to see Shipwrecked or Salvage. I didn't want them to leave with a sense of the work being unfinished. While the action is indeed open-ended, there is a very strong sense of closure at the end of the second act. It is more portentous than unfinished: there is war and exile and a nobleman at the end of his life, contemplating the loss of his son and the dissolution of his estate. It is a nod to the great Russian novels, but with the unfussy delivery that I recognize from other Stoppard plays.
One of the things I kept noticing during the performance was the presence of books. When Stankevich passed a book to Bakunin, I felt the transfer of knowledge. The play expresses ideal of what we think about at the Institute: books as vehicles for big ideas. There is a treatise waiting to be written about the view of literature defining a nation (explosively presented in a monologue from Belinsky). And there is, throughout, a very powerful sense that the printed word is vastly important. But there is also that sense of impending loss, which makes us question where we are today. Do we live in a world where idealism is lost, and where the gilt-edged books filled with new philosophies are no longer valued? Or is it the opposite? Do we live in a world where the book is doing better than ever, and idealism takes so many forms that it is unrecognizable?
Posted by jesse wilbur at 10:18 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
dutch fund audiovisual heritage to the tune of 173 million euros 11.22.2006, 7:23 AM
Larry Lessig writes in Free Culture:
Why is it that the part of our culture that is recorded in newspapers remains perpetually accessible, while the part that is recorded on videotape is not? How is it that we've created a world where researchers trying to understand the effect of media on nineteenth-century America will have an easier time than researchers trying to understand the effect of media on twentieth-century America?
Twentieth century Holland, it turns out, will be easier to decipher:
The Netherlands Government announced in its annual budget proposal the support for the project "Images for the Future" (in Dutch). Images for the Future is a large-scale conservation and digitalisation operation comprising 285,000 hours of film, television and radio recordings, and 2.9 million photos. The investment of 173 million euro, is spread over a period of seven years....It is unprecedented in its scale and ambition. All these films, programmes and photos will be made available for educational and creative purposes. An infrastructure for digital distribution will also be developed. A basic collection will be made available without copyright or under a Creative Commons licence. Making this heritage digitally available will lead to innovative applications in the area of new media and the development of valuable services for the public. The income/expense analysis included in the project plan shows that on balance the project will produce a positive social effect in the Dutch economy to the value of 20 to 60 million euros.
Pretty inspiring stuff.
Eddie Izzard once described the Netherlandish brand of enlightenment in a nutshell: "The Dutch speak four languages and smoke marijuana!" We now see that they also deem it wise policy to support a comprehensive cultural infrastructure for the 21st century, enabling their citizens to read, quote and reuse the media that shapes their world (while they whiz around on bicycles over tidy networks of canals). Not so here in the States where the government works for the monopolies, keeping big media on the dole through Sonny Bono-style protectionism. We should pass our benighted politicos a little of what the Dutch are smoking.
Posted by ben vershbow at 7:23 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
terrain as browsing mechanism 11.21.2006, 10:04 AM
Ben's post last week, book as terrain, about converting any image to an interactive map with hotspots contained a link to a blog which collects info about all sorts of google map mashups. Ben's post was about using book pages as geographic jumping-off points. However, as i read the endlessly fascinating list of other sorts of mashups it occurred to me that in addition to "book as terrain" we could also look at the idea of "Google map mashups" as a genuinely new form of expression. As I read through the wonderfully annotated list I realized that they cover the full gamut of subjects you would find in a bookstore . . . . Fiction, Non-Fiction, Travel, History, Sports, Games, Religion, Personal Growth, and Crime.
It's interesting to realize that as our experience moves relentlessly into the virtual domain, that geography, which in the past was firmly rooted in the "real," increasingly becomes the mechanism for organizing our activiites in virtual space.
Posted by bob stein at 10:04 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
laurels 11.20.2006, 7:01 AM
We recently learned that the Institute has been honored in the Charleston Advisor's sixth annual Readers Choice Awards. The Advisor is a small but influential review of web technologies run by a highly respected coterie of librarians and information professionals, who also hold an important annual conference in (you guessed it) Charleston, South Carolina. We've been chosen for our work on the networked book:
The Institute for the Future of the Book is providing a creative new paradigm for monographic production as books move from print to the screen. This includes integration of multimedia, interviews with authors and inviting readers to comment on draft manuscripts.
A special award also went to Peter Suber for his tireless service on the Open Access News blog and the SPARC Open Access Forum. We're grateful for this recognition, and to have been mentioned in such good company.
Posted by ben vershbow at 7:01 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
jonas mekas has a plan 11.17.2006, 10:49 AM
Jonas Mekas was mentioned in passing on this blog last week, which seems fortuitous timing. Mekas has just announced (by video, of course) a plan to release a short film every day next year. All will be formatted for the video iPod; however, video formatted this way doesn't need a video iPod for playback.
Some background: Jonas Mekas is primarily an experimental film maker, having used film to document his life for the past fifty years. Along with Michael Apted's 7 Up series, Mekas's As I Was Moving Ahead, Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty is one of the twentieth century's great works of biography. He's one of the most respected Lithuanian poets of the last century. And he's also been a central force for avant-garde film culture in New York. Anthology Film Archives, his current cinema, presents an incredibly wide range of historical and contemporary film. It's one of the great things about living in New York: the vast majority of what's shown there simply isn't distributed, and is inaccessible any other way.
Mekas has been taken in by the Maya Stendhal Gallery, which is currently hosting an exhibit of forty of his recent films ("recent" defined rather loosely). I spent an hour or so at the gallery yesterday; in the darkened space, flat-screen monitors present Mekas's films on repeat. The selection of films at Maya Stendhal is tilted to the celebrity: there's Andy Warhol at work, Salvador Dalí and Gala clowning about with broken-down cars somewhere in Chelsea, John Lennon and Yoko Ono's bed-in in Montréal, Jackie Onassis at home, the elderly Carl Jung carving stones.
It's a nice experience, but it's difficult to actually watch the films there: the monitors are installed in series, so while watching one you can't help but be distracted by what's going on to the left and right. Mekas's private epiphanies (Stan Brakhage making an enormous pile of pancakes for his children, for example) are interrupted by famous faces. But perhaps the most interesting thing about this exhibit isn't actually going on in the gallery itself: the Maya Stendhal gallery is presenting the forty films online for public downloading. Currently, they're available in iPod format – 320 x 240 pixel QuickTime files – but a few are available in high resolution: I downloaded a 665Mb file of the Velvet Underground's first public appearance, at a psychiatrist's convention in 1965. This is DVD quality: 720 x 576 pixels.
Mekas's films aren't free, but they're relatively cheap: $3.99 for iPod quality, $6.99 for high resolution. The money isn't going straight to Mekas: it's going through the gallery. But there's something that feels exciting about this: an artist taking over the reigns of distribution. This isn't work that the general public is interested in; neither the artist nor the audience would be well-served by a regular distributor. Here there's a more direct connection. Mekas curates an enormous library of film at Anthology Film Archives; it would be a tremendous achievement if that could be made available online.
Mekas's upcoming project to make a film a day and present it online is also interesting as an experiment in networked culture. Working online will create a much faster feedback loop for Mekas: there will almost certainly be a much greater role for the audience, not dissimilar to what we've been examining with our Thinking Out Loud series.
Posted by dan visel at 10:49 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
book as terrain 11.16.2006, 10:19 AM
People have done all sorts of interesting things with Google maps, but this one I particularly like. Maplib lets you upload any image (the larger and higher res the better) into the Google map interface, turning the picture into a draggable, zoomable and annotatable terrain -- a crude mashup tool that nonetheless suggests new spacial ways of navigating text.
I did a quick and dirty image mapping of W.H. Auden's "Musee des Beaux Arts" onto Breughel's "Landscape with the Fall of Icarus," casting the shepherd as poet. Click the markers and then the details links to read the poem (hint: start with the shepherd).
As you can see, they give you the code to embed image maps on other sites. You can post comments on the individual markers right here on if:book, or if you go to the Maplib site itself you can add your own markers.
I quite like this one that someone uploaded of a southerly view of the Italian peninsula (unfortunately it seems to start larger images off-center):
And here's an annotated Korean barbecue (yum):
Posted by ben vershbow at 10:19 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
mckenzie wark on creative commons 11.15.2006, 6:33 AM
Ken Wark is a "featured commoner" on the Creative Commons Text site in recognition of GAM3R 7H30RY, which is published under a CC Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 license. They've posted an excellent interview with Ken where he reflects on writing at the intersection of print and web and on the relationship between gift and commodity economies in the realm of ideas. Great stuff. Highly recommended.
Ken also traces some of the less-known prehistory of the Creative Commons movement:
...one of my all time favorite books is Guy Debord's Society of the Spectacle. There's a lovely edition for sale from Zone Books. Today its Amazon rank is about 18,000 - but I've seen it as high as 5,000. This edition has been in print for twelve years.You can also get the whole text free online. In fact there are three whole translations you can download. In the '60s Debord was editor of a journal called Internationale Situationiste. All of it is freely available now in translation.
The Situationists were pioneers in alternative licensing. The only problem was they didn't have access to a good license that would allow noncommercial circulation but also bar unauthorized commercial exploitation. There were some terrible pirate editions of their stuff. Their solution to a bad Italian commercial edition was to go to the publisher and trash their office. There has to be a better way of doing things than that.
But in short: the moral of the story is that if you give a nice enough gift to potential readers, they return the gift by buying your stuff. Debord's works are now classics. Constantly reprinted, a nice little earner for his widow. But it is because of this huge gift of stuff to readers that readers - generations of them - return the favor by buying the works.
Culture has always worked like that. The real question to ask is the reverse: how is anyone except the media conglomerates going to make a living when they have commodified culture to within an inch of its life? How are they even going to make a living off it? It's never been done before in the history of the world.
The interview was actually done several months ago, before Ken had inked his deal with Harvard University Press, so a few sections regarding future prospects of the book are dated.
Posted by ben vershbow at 6:33 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
ITIN place | 2007 redux: design journal, parts 1 & 2 11.14.2006, 7:40 AM
ITIN place -- May 2006 archives (left two columns with live links):
[1] SUMMER 2006
At the beginning of the summer, Ben Vershbow, Alex Itin, and I began to discuss a redesign of IT IN place's archives. Itin blogs prolifically, his posts rich with media: scans of paintings, animated .gifs, Vimeo linked video collages. As a result, at present, his blog archive is enormous, slow loading, and unweildy. The archive requires better display and search capabilities—a map— to foreground the sheer volume of Itin's work, rather than bury it. Below is a series of exchanges, both visual and conversational, following the redesign of IT IN place's archives...
Alex: I've more or less figured out an idea of how to maybe make it work... I want to show the sense of time and the sense of connectivity of the posts. I've always been paying attention to relations of color and shape on the vertical axis... I'm hoping and wondering if something cool might be seen on the horizontal too.... ...using scale might be interesting and helpful (if it's not to complex to do)... so that you see a tiny map of the whole thing and then you can zoom in.... Kind of like Eames "Powers of Ten".... but the original thumbnail variation might be easier to make.
Sally: I think the current blog as a large strip and the archive as streams of film to one side would work... We can use size to mark the most recent post, but we could also use other design choices as well (say highlighting or animating, playing with transparency, etc.)
Alex: At this point I think we're more or less talking about a sort of map, or key page to open up the blog archive to easy spelunking without huge load times. It did seem to me that it would be interesting to have these "bands of abstract color" (like a stan brakhage strip of film) and then you could bring them "closer" to the eye an reveal a thumbnail-like image ... so that one could search for a favorite entry, or search by a more graphic abstract randomness. Maybe the feature should be sexy enough to encourage play?
Sally: We could start with something relatively static like you suggested: the lengths of film and the thumbnails (as links to indv. posts.)
Then, we could juice it up. Some ideas:
- We could animate the ribbons so that the visitor could scroll up/down the length of the ribbon either with a scrollbar-like object or by clicking and dragging the ribbon itself...
- We could add a magnifying function that might magnify frame by frame (post by post) on mouse rollover.
- We could mess with magnification to give a sense of zooming in and out on posts. This is, of course, running wild with your first design idea.
Alex: sort of like the osx animated side menu?
Ben: What is the relationship between all this meta-film strip/Stan Brakhage goodness and the actual blog ( i.e. the week or so of latest material, as one accesses it now?) Are these in separate places or are they somehow juxtaposed?
Alex: A good question and one that has been puzzling me... I suppose the first notion is that at the bottom of the page you have the "continued" button and that would call up this "menu" page... as a way of browsing the archive without getting stuck in lengthy loads... However, it might also be interesting to come up with a way of having the main blog as a large strip and the archive as sort of streams of film to one side... this would be a different looking blog, but maybe it's time for a rethink.
Sally: On a tech note: I'm entering from an XML/Flash background, so at this point I imagine organizing the posts on the back end of the site and using Flash & XML to visually map. I'm not up on blogging technology so by default, I envision this xml driven Flash site. At this point, I'm unsure of how to fold in the dynamic (blog) aspects of IT IN: user comments, relative ease for Alex to regularly post, etc.
[2] SEPTEMBER
Experimenting with interactive elements. I began to manipulate a month of Alex's blog, May 2006. As he suspected, the bird's eye view of a month looks fantastic. Presenting a map that one can pull closer or push away works, now just to sort out what the map should look like. Alex directed me to images of a show he had in 2003, his paintings tiled on one wall. If we think of Alex's blog as a curated space, reading the present form (verticle, with scrolling) is tantamount to standing nose up against the gallery wall. How should we curate virtual space—as though it were physical space? Should we allow the reader to 'step' back, virtually? What should that look like?
Sally: Hi Alex, When we met up a couple weeks ago, we talked about making a mock up of a few months to see how it looked. Here's a link to a few static jpgs online. Your entries look great en masse!!! I'm pretty excited to see what could happen when we add a little interactivity to it, tool around more. I tried to put up several different versions of the same thing--all attempting what we talked about.
Alex: I...think...it's...going...to...look...great!
Sally: I thought i'd get to work this weekend animating the bits we talked about making interactive, and see what happens. How's that sound?
Alex: I did sort of think that it would be cool that by opening one entry you'd open the one above it and below it.... but that sound kind of tricky...
Sally: It's late, and I've just dropped a scroll bar into the example... I am starting to jot down some questions... So far, we have the blog entries arranged chronologically and I inserted them in the flash file by date. But, there are sometimes several entries per date. Would you want each clickable item to be an entry, or a date? I thought date would be easier... but then I realized each entry's url is not uniform, but the title of the entry (i had thought it'd be the date... hmmm).
Alex: I would go by each titled entry (sometimes a lot of disparate things will all come together on one day to publish, but they're still discreet "chapters"... Does that make sense?
Sally: Yep, that makes sense! Thanks. Still hammering away. I got sidetracked with a few ideas. Meantime, an experiment along the way:
<< panel.onPress = function(){ this.startDrag();>> (give it a drag!)
Alex: that's pretty cool! Different from what I thought... being about to drag it around like that.... Definitely going to make people want to play around with the archive.
Sarah: scrolls are in!
Alex: That seems to work pretty great.
Sally: Neat, this was good to hear! I'll keep on tinkering with the layout.
<< myScroll = function () { >>
Ben: We were all just looking over the mockups and all agreed that some combination of 2 and 5 seems ideal. In 2, we like the fact that there's no scrolling required (though I do love the little Itin-esque scroll bar you devised). In 5, we like that there's more space between columns, and obviously, that there's the zooming action when you mouse over. Seems that if 5 was representing a single month, you could fit everything into a fixed frame, sans scrolling. We could then have one of these pages per month, with the nice little backwards/forwards navigation you sketched out in the first mockup.
Sally: Hey Alex, I linked Ben to the mockups I've been posting. He preferred elements of test02 and test05, which led me to 06 (at the top of this post)--imagining what one month per page would look like. Thoughts? There's no fancy coding here, just screen shots of your entries as before. The zooming function I've been using isn't working best, as you can see the resolution isn't good and it's a bit irritating to manipulate. So, I'm learning a new one that I hope will work better.
<< panel.onRollOver = function() { _parent.zoom(x2);} >>
Stay tuned: parts 3 & 4 coming soon!
Posted by sarah northmore at 7:40 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
the ethics of web applications 11.13.2006, 7:26 AM
Eddie Tejeda, a talented web developer based here in Brooklyn who has been working with us of late, has a thought-provoking post on the need for a new software licensing paradigm for web-based applications:
When open source licenses were developed, we thought of software as something that processed local and isolated data, or sometimes data in a limited network. The ability to access or process that data depended on the ability to have the software installed on your machine.
Now more and more software is moving from local machines to the web, and with it an ever-increasing stockpile of our personal data and intellectual property (think webmail, free blog hosting like Blogger, MySpace and other social networking sites, and media-sharing sites like Flickr or YouTube). The question becomes: if software is no longer a tool that you install but rather a place to which you upload yourself, how is your self going to be protected? What should be the rules of this game?
Posted by ben vershbow at 7:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
HASTAC international conference: call for papers 11.13.2006, 7:19 AM
Call for Papers
HASTAC International Conference
"Electronic Techtonics: Thinking at the Interface"
April 19-21, 2007
Deadline for proposals: Dec 1, 2006
HASTAC is now soliciting papers and panel proposals for "Electronic Techtonics: Thinking at the Interface," the first international conference of HASTAC ("haystack": Humanities, Arts, Science and Technology Advanced Collaboratory). The interdisciplinary conference will be held April 19-21, 2007, in Durham, North Carolina, co-sponsored by Duke University in Durham and RENCI (Renaissance Computing Institute), an innovative technology consortium in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Details concerning registration fees, hotel accommodations, and the full conference agenda will be posted to www.hastac.org as they become available.
Posted by bob stein at 7:19 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
from weblog to prologue 11.10.2006, 3:44 PM
Over on Without Gods, Mitch Stephens has just posted a draft of his book's prologue. Readers can download the file and then post feedback on the blog.
Posted by ben vershbow at 3:44 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
row after row after row after row 11.10.2006, 8:04 AM
I want to tell you about one scene in a wonderful documentary, DOC, that just opened the Margaret Mead Film Festival at the Museum of Natural History in New York. Doc Humes was the founder of the Paris Review. Made by his daughter, Immy, the film follows Immy as she tries to uncover the layers of her father's complex life. At one point she finds out that he made a feature film and she tries to find the footage. She gets a tip that Jonas Mekas may have a copy at Anthology Film Archives in the east village in New York. She goes to visit Mekas and takes her camera. Mekas takes her into the vast underground storeroom and points at row after row after row after row of film cans. The point of the shot is that looking for the film on these shelves -- even if it were known to be here, which it isn't -- is a hopeless task. Nothing seems to be marked; there is no order. Rather than a salvation for the rich film culture that came out of NY in the 50s, 60s, and 70s, it seems that the Anthology Film Archive may become a graveyard.
Seeing this made me wonder about the decisions we make as a society about what to keep and what not to keep. There may be important film in those cans or there may not be. How do we decide whether to gather the resources to find out?
Posted by bob stein at 8:04 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
wiki book on networked business 11.10.2006, 7:06 AM
Form will follow content in We Are Smarter Than Me, a book on social networks and business written by... a social network of business professors, students and professionals -- on a wiki. They're calling it a "network book":
The central premise of We Are Smarter Than Me is that large groups of people ("We") can, and should, take responsibility for traditional business functions that are currently performed by companies, industries and experts ("Me"). [...] A few books have recently been written on this topic, but they all fail to confront one central paradox. While they extol the power of communities, they were each written by only one person. We're putting this paradox to the test by inviting hundreds of thousands of authors to contribute to this "network book" using today's technologies.
The project is a collaboration between Wharton Business School, MIT Sloan School of Management and a company called Shared Insights. A print book will be published by Pearson in Fall '07. The site reveals little about how the writing process will be organized, but it's theoretically open to anyone. As of this writing, I see 983 members.
To get a sense of some of the legal strings that could enwrap future networked publishing deals, take a look at the terms of service for participating authors. You sign away most rights to your contributions, though you're free to reproduce or rework them non-commercially under a CC license. All proceeds of the book will be given to a charity of the community's collective choosing. And here's an interesting new definition of the publisher: "community manager" and "provider of venues for interaction."
Posted by ben vershbow at 7:06 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
new love meetings: "il primo film girato con un telefonino" 11.09.2006, 7:50 AM
Leafing through my hardcopy of the September/October edition of Filmcomment, published by the Film Society of Lincoln Center, I came across a mini-review of "New Love Meetings," co-directed by Marcello Mencarini and Barbara Seghezzi. First featured in The Guardian Unlimited, this story was newsworthy because this film is reportedly the first feature (93 minutes) entirely shot with a cell phone. "New Love Meetings" was filmed in MPEG4 format using a Nokia N90, and follows on Pasolini's 1965 documentary "Love Meetings," in which he interviewed Italian men and women about their views on sex in postwar Italy. Mencarini and Seghezzi used cell phones to interview about 700 people at regular meeting places such as bars, markets, the beach, etc.
Cell-phone short movies have become ubiquitous in the Internet, and they have achieved some visibility in film festivals, but Mencarini and Seghezzi's premise is that even though they asked very much the same questions that Pasolini posed, the results of their film are marked by the medium they used to shoot it. The use of a cell phone, an instrument that belongs to people's daily lives, produced an intimacy absent in Pasolini's movie. In a way, the filmmakers were very much like normal people using their cell phones to preserve an instant. This leads people to be more spontaneous and open, making the dialogue more like a chat than an interview.
This technique underscores the fact that today, memories can be captured and disseminated instantly thanks to the nature of our networked world, and that the way we preserve them is not the realm of books, not even of traditional films. Memory is instant, intimacy is public, and we communicate more readily than ever before. People have used stone, scrolls, print, wax cylinders, film, and tape, to preserve and disseminate memories, "New Love Meetings" is yet another example of the permeability and plasticity of mediums within which we move today. We cannot apply traditional, orthodox aesthetic values to the hybrid products of the moment. Experimentation doesn't follow a master plan.
Posted by sol gaitan at 7:50 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
two novels revisited 11.08.2006, 9:49 AM
Near future science fiction is a reflexive art: the present embellished to the point of transformation that, in turn, influences how we envision, and eventually create our future. It is not accurate—far from it—but there is power in determining the vocabulary we use to discuss a future that seems possible, or even probable. I read Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash in 2000 and thought it was a great read back then. I was twenty-five, the internet was tanking, but the online games were going strong and the Metaverse seemed so close. The Metaverse is an avatar inhabited digital world—the Internet on 'roids—with extremely high levels of interactivity enabled by the combination of vast computing power, 3-D tracking gloves (think Minority Report), directional headphones, and wraparound goggles that project a fully immersive experience in front of your eyes. This is the technophilic dream: a place where physicality matters less than the ability to manipulate the code. If you control the code, you can make your avatar do just about anything.
Now, five years later, I've reread Snow Crash. It continues to be relevant. The depiction of a fractured, corporatized society and of the gulf between rich and poor are more true now than they were five years ago. But there is a special resonance with one idea in particular: the Metaverse. The Metaverse is what many people dream the Internet will eventually become. The Metaverse is, as much as anything, a place to hang out. It's also a place to buy 'space' to build a house, a place for ads to be thrown at you while you are 'goggled in,' a place for people to trade information. In 2000, in reality, you would have a blog and chat with your friends on AIM. It didn't have the same presence as an avatar in the Metaverse, where facial features can communicate as much information as the voice transmission. Even games, like Everquest, didn't have the same culture as the Metaverse, because they were games, with goals and advancement based on game rules. But now we have Second Life. Second Life isn't about that—it is a social place. No goals. See and be seen. Make your avatar look the way you want. Buy and build. Sell and produce your own digital culture. Share pictures. Share your life. This is closer to the Metaverse than ever, but I hope that doesn't mean we'll get corporate franchise burbclaves as well. Well, at least any more than there already are.
I also reread The Diamond Age. This is a story about society in the age of nanotech and the power of traditional values in an environment of post-materialism. When everything is possible through nanotech, humanity retreats to fortresses of bygone tradition to give life structure and meaning. In the post-nation-state society described in the book, humans live in "phyles," groups of people with like thoughts and values bound together by will and rules of society. Phyles are separated from each other by geography, wealth, and status; phyle borders are vigorously protected by visible and invisible defenders. This separation of groups by ideology seems especially pertinent in light of the continuing divergence of political affiliation in the US. We live in a politically bifurcated society; it is not difficult to draw parallels between the Red state/Blue state distinction, and the phyles of New Atlantis, Hindustani, and the Celestial Kingdom.
The story focuses on a girl, Nell, and her book, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer. The Primer is her guide through a difficult and dangerous life. Her Primer is scientifically advanced enough that it would, if we had it today, appear to be magic. The Primer is aware of its surroundings, and aware of the girl's position in the surroundings. It is capable of determining relationships and decorating them with the trappings of 'story'. The Primer narrates the story using the voice of a distant actor, who is on call, connected through the media system (again, the Internet but so much more). The Primer answers any questions Nell asks, expounds and expands on any part of the story she is curious about until she fully satisfies her curiosity. It is a perpetually self-improving, self-generating networked storybook, with one important key: it requires a real human's input to narrate the words that appear on the page. Without a human voice behind it, it doesn't have enough emotion to hold a person's interest. Even in a world of lighter than air buildings and nanosite generated islands, tech can't figure out how to make a non-human voice convey delicate emotion.
There are common threads in the two novels that are crystal clear. Stephenson illluminates the near future with an ambivalent light. Society is fragile and prone to collapse. The network is likely to be monopolized and overrun with advertising. The social fabric, instead of being interwoven with multiethnic thread, will simply be a geographic patchwork of walled enclaves competing with each other. Corporations (minus governments) will be the ultimate rulers of the world—not just the economic part of it, but the cultural part as well. This is a future I don't want to live in. And here is where Stephenson is doing us a service: by writing the narrative that leads to this future, he is giving us signs so that we can work against its development. Ultimately, his novels are about the power of human will to work through and above technology to forge meaning and relationships. And that's a lesson that will always be relevant.
Posted by jesse wilbur at 9:49 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
a dictionary in transition 11.07.2006, 8:47 AM
James Gleick had a fascinating piece in the Times Sunday magazine on how the Oxford English Dictionary is reinventing itself in the digital age. The O.E.D. has always had to keep up with a rapidly evolving English language. It took over 60 years and two major supplements to arrive at a second edition in 1989, around the same time Tim Berners-Lee and others at the CERN particle physics lab in Switzerland were creating up with the world wide web. Ever since then, the O.E.D. been hard at work on a third edition but under radically different conditions. Now not only the language but the forms in which the language is transmitted are in an extreme state of flux:
In its early days, the O.E.D. found words almost exclusively in books; it was a record of the formal written language. No longer. The language upon which the lexicographers eavesdrop is larger, wilder and more amorphous; it is a great, swirling, expanding cloud of messaging and speech: newspapers, magazines, pamphlets; menus and business memos; Internet news groups and chat-room conversations; and television and radio broadcasts.
Crucial to this massive language research program is a vast alphabet soup known as the Oxford English Corpus, a growing database of more than a billion words, culled mostly from the web, which O.E.D. lexicographers analyze through various programs that compare and contrast contemporary word usages in contexts ranging from novels and academic papers to teen chat rooms and fan sites. Together this data comprises what the O.E.D. calls "the fullest, most accurate picture of the language today" (I'm curious to know how broadly they survey the world's general adoption of English. I'm under the impression that it's still largely an Anglo-American affair).
Marshall McLuhan famously summarized the shift from oral tradition to the written word as "an eye for an ear": a general migration of thought and expression away from the folkloric soundscapes of tribal society toward encounters by individuals with visual symbols on a page, a movement that climaxed in the age of print, and which McLuhan saw at last reversed in the global village of electronic mass media. The curious thing that McLuhan did not live long enough to witness was the fusion of eye-ear cultures in the fast-moving textual traditions of cell phones and the Internet. Written language has acquired an immediacy and a malleability almost matching oral speech, and the effect is a disorienting blurring of boundaries where writing is almost the same as speaking, reading more like overhearing.
So what is a dictionary to do? Or be? Such fundamental change in the process of maintaining "the definitive record of the English language" must have an effect on the product. Might the third "edition" be its final never-ending one? Gleick again:
No one can say for sure whether O.E.D.3 will ever be published in paper and ink. By the point of decision, not before 20 years or so, it will have doubled in size yet again. In the meantime, it is materializing before the world's eyes, bit by bit, online. It is a thoroughgoing revision of the entire text. Whereas the second edition just added new words and new usages to the original entries, the current project is researching and revising from scratch -- preserving the history but aiming at a more coherent whole.
They've even experimented with bringing readers into the process, working with the BBC earlier this year to solicit public aid in locating first usages for a list of particularly hard-to-trace words. One wonders how far they'd go in this direction. It's one thing to let people contribute at the edges -- the 50 words in that list are all from the 20th century -- but to open the full source code is quite another. It seems the dictionary's challenge is to remain a sturdy ark for the English language during this period of flood, and to proceed under the assumption that we may have seen the last of the land.
(image by Kenneth Moyle)
Posted by ben vershbow at 8:47 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
an encyclopedia in my pocket 11.03.2006, 6:00 PM
A while back – last March – there was a great deal of excitement over Wikipodia, an open source project to install Wikipedia on an iPod. Wanting a portable Wikipedia, I installed Linux on my brand new video iPod, a necessary prerequisite, but was disappointed to discover that Wikipodia only worked on older iPods with smaller screens. I've waited for an update to Wikipodia since then, but the project seems to have gone dark. Probably Wikipodia wouldn't have been an ideal solution anyway: it requires you to reboot your iPod into Linux whenever you want to look at Wikipedia. You could have an iPod to listen to music or a Wikipedia to read, but not both at the same time.
But a partial fulfillment for my desire to have a portable Wikipedia has come along: Matt Swann has posted a script that puts some of the Wikipedia on an iPod, in iPod Notes format. While it's much simpler than installing a new operating system on your iPod, it's still not for everybody – it requires using the OS X command line, although there's an Automator-based version that's a bit simpler. (PC versions would seem to be available as well, though I don't know anything about them – check the comments here.) If you're willing to take the plunge, you can feed the script a page from Wikipedia and it will start filling up your iPod Notes directory with that page and all the pages linked from it. I started from the entry for book; the script downloaded this, then it downloaded the entries for paper, parchment, page, and so on. When it finished those, it downloads all the pages linked from the linked pages, and it keeps doing this until it runs out of space: regardless of iPod size, you can only have 1000 notes in the Notes directory. This doesn't meant that you get 1000 articles. Because each iPod note can only be 4 kb long, entries that are longer than 4000 characters are split into multiple notes; thus, I wound up with only 216 entries.
Though 216 entries is a tiny subset of Wikipedia, it's still an interesting experience having a chunk of an encyclopedia in your pocket. What I find most captivating about approaching Wikipedia this was is that I found myself browsing interesting sounding articles rather than searching them directly. The iPod doesn't have much input functionality: while you can scroll through the list of entries, you can't search for a subject, as you usually would. (And with only 216 entries, searching would be of limited utility at best. The Wikipodia project promises full text searching, though text entry is a difficult proposition when you only have five keys to type with.) While you can scroll through the list of entries to find something that looks interesting, you're likely to get sidetracked by something along the way. So you browse.
To my mind, browsing is one of the primary virtues of a print encyclopedia: the arbitrary logic of alphabetization makes for a serendipitous reading experience, and you often come away from a print encyclopedia having read something in a nearby article that you didn't intend to read. This is something that's generally lost with online reference works: links between articles are supposed to make logical sense. This is also a reflection of our reading behavior: if I search for "book" in Wikipedia, I'm probably looking for something in particular. If I'm interested in book conservation issues, I might click on the link for slow fires. If I'm interested in some other area related to books – how to make vellum, for example – I almost certainly wouldn't. Instead I'd click on the vellum link and keep looking from there. We tend to be goal-directed when we using Wikipedia online: it's like going to a library and finding the specific book you want. Wandering in a library is an equally valid behavior: that's what happens here.
Because you're not looking for a particular piece of information, you do find yourself reading in a different way. Search-based reading is a different style of reading than browsing, which is slower and more casual. This has a downside when applied to Wikipedia: the often atrocious style is more glaring when you're reading for pleasure rather than reading for information. And an offline Wikipedia inhibits some of the new reading habits Wikipedia encourages. I caught myself wondering how biased the declarations of the Shāhnāma's originality w/r/t other national epics were; without recourse to page histories and talk pages I'm left to wonder until I find myself with an Internet connection.
The experience of reading Wikipedia this way isn't perfect: many links don't work, and some articles seem to arbitrarily end, some in mid-sentence, some in mid-word. You also realize how many links in Wikipedia aren't useful at all. If I'm interested in books as a concept, I'm probably not interested in 1907 as a concept, though that is the year that Marc Aurel Stein found The Diamond Sutra, the oldest known block-printed book. Marc Aurel Stein or The Diamond Sutra might be interesting subjects to a book-inclined browser; 1907 isn't as likely. What you get on your iPod is an arbitrary selection. But there's something very pleasant about this: it's nice to have the chance to learn about both Neferirkare Kakai and the Rule of St. Benedict on the subway.
Posted by dan visel at 6:00 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
making MediaCommons 11.02.2006, 8:21 AM
Back in July, we announced plans to build MediaCommons, a new kind of scholarly press for the digital age with a focus on media studies -- a wide-ranging network that will weave together various forms of online discourse into a comprehensive publishing environment. At its core, MediaCommons will be a social networking site where academics, students, and other interested members of the public can write and critically converse about a mediated world, in a mediated environment. We're trying to bridge a number of communities here, connecting scholars, producers, lobbyists, activists, critics, fans, and consumers in a wide-ranging, critically engaged conversation that is highly visible to the public. At the same time, MediaCommons will be a full-fledged electronic press dedicated to the development of born-digital scholarship: multimedia "papers," journals, Gamer Theory-style monographs, and many other genre-busting forms yet to be invented.
Today we are pleased to announce the first concrete step toward the establishment of this network: making MediaCommons, a planning site through which founding editors Avi Santo (Old Dominion U.) and Kathleen Fitzpatrick (Pomona College) will lead a public discussion on the possible directions this all might take.
The site presently consists of three simple sections:
1) A weblog where Avi and Kathleen will think out loud and work with the emerging community to develop the full MediaCommons vision.2) A call for "papers" -- scholarly projects that engagingly explore some aspect of media history, theory, or culture through an adventurous use of the broad palette of technologies provided by the digital network. These will be the first round of texts published by MediaCommons at the time of its launch.
3) In Media Res -- an experimental feature where each week a different scholar will present a short contemporary media clip accompanied by a 100-150 word commentary, alongside which a community discussion can take place. Sort of a "YouTube" for scholars and a critically engaged public, In Media Res is presented as just one of the many possible kinds of collaborative, multi-modal publications that MediaCommons could eventually host. With this feature, we are also making a stand on "fair use," asserting the right to quote from the media for scholarly, critical and pedagogical purposes. Currently on the site, you'll find videos curated by Henry Jenkins of MIT, Jason Mittell of Middlebury College and Horace Newcomb of the University of Georgia (and the founder of the Peabody Awards). There's an open invitation for more curators.
Other features and sections will be added over time and out of this site the real MediaCommons will eventually emerge. How exactly this will happen, and how quickly, is yet to be seen and depends largely on the feedback and contributions from the community that will develop on making MediaCommons. We imagine it could launch as early as this coming Spring or as late as next Fall. Come take a look!
Posted by ben vershbow at 8:21 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
google aquires jotspot 11.02.2006, 8:17 AM
Adding wikis to its evolving online office suite.
Posted by ben vershbow at 8:17 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
blogs and time (links for 11.1.06) 11.01.2006, 12:20 PM
Interesting links that crossed my path over the past few days that I haven't time to post on (and likely never will):
- "French publishers join fight against Google Book Search": Le Syndicat National de l'édition (SNE), a trade association of French publishers, has joined a suit brought against Google by the Le Martiniè re conglomerate in August for "counterfeiting and breach of intellectual property rights" in its book digitization program.
- outside.in is a new web service co-created by Steven Johnson and John Geraci that aggregates blog content according to zip code, giving you a regularly updated guide to where you live. It uses a little Google map as a navigation tool -- a dynamic table of contents.
- US intelligence agencies use wikis: The CIA and other agencies have begun using an internal wiki site called the "Intellipedia" where staff post current events updates and colloborate on intelligence assessments, supposedly to avoid repeating mistakes like Iraq WMD. "'I think in the future you'll press a button and this will be the NIE,' said Michael Wertheimer, assistant deputy director of national intelligence for analysis."
- Clay Shirky on "meganiches"
- Wikipedia and the academy: To contribute or not to contribute? Article in Chronicle of Higher Ed. on the fraught relationship between academics and the online encyclopedia. Among other things discusses troubling disparity in quality between science articles and humanities articles. Is there a "two cultures" problem in online scholarly collaboration?
- Ehon: The Artist and the Book in Japan: Glorious exhibit at the New York Public Library. A totally different way of thinking about books.
Should if:book serve as a filter and recommender, providing nutritious lists of links like the one above, or purely as a source of original ideas and commentary? If the answer is both, then what should be the ratio of shorter, "pointier" posts to longer, "thinkier" ones? Blogs are agnostic as to the varying size and speed of thoughts -- everything goes into the same sinking scroll, soon vanishing into the catacombs of the monthly archives and category pages.
This works fine for news cycle or daily diary-type blogs, but it's a handicap for a site like ours where longer meditations -- the kind that would benefit from longer exposure -- are the more common fare, and where extended, multi-post arcs on a relatively small cluster of central ideas are more what constitute the "story" of this blog than any given week's smattering of entries. As I write, there are several extended conversations taking place within posts that, though only a few days old, are being pushed further and further down the scroll as newer content accumulates. The only hint of their still being active is the "recent comments" link to the right, which is at best an overheard whisper.
Given these constraints, and figuring that it's the slower moving ideas that matter most, we generally try to avoid posting quick linkdumps like the one above -- useful as they might be for annotating our wider web readings and pointing readers to interesting sites -- simply because they have the unfortunate effect of pushing the other stuff down. But this only slightly mitigates the still unsolved problem of portraying complex movements of ideas over time on a dinky little blog.
As a side project, we're thinking about how we could redesign if:book to keep the thinky stuff visible for longer and tied to past related discussions, while also keeping a swift current of useful annotated links and shorter observational posts. This might mean dividing our content into two separate feeds, as on this site.
We've also thought about ways to organize content thematically rather than temporally, so what you see at the top isn't just the newest content, but a cluster of our most important and long-abiding conversations arranged by subject. We're also considering changes to the individual permalinked pages of posts, perhaps adding dynamically generated links to related posts.
We've played around a bit with thematic arrangements on Mitch Stephens' blog Without Gods. First, just below his banner there's this tag cloud, which serves as a mental map of Mitch's writing and interests:
Then there are four side menus with recent posts divided up by general area. "Bonner's Field" is current events, "Tales of Disbelief" deals with characters in his book, "Thinking Out Loud" is sort of free-form jamming on ideas, and "Book Writer's Journal" is meta-commentary on the writing process:
I'm also very taken with what this site, an NYU webzine on media and religion called The Revealer. They have a lovely section on the front page that divides articles and blog postings into three distinct tempos, or traffic lanes (which brings us back to the multiple streams/feeds idea):
"Time signature" is something we need to add to our design vocabulary for dealing with evolutionary, never-finished documents. Having multiple rates of movement in a single space can create interesting tensions and provide more points of entry to for the reader. I'm hoping we can put some of this into practice with if:book, and soon.
What are other sites that do a good job of handling time? Any other ideas as to how we might do better here?
Posted by ben vershbow at 12:20 PM | Comments (16) | TrackBack
