Generic musing

A much classier category than “uncategorized”

 

I used to say I’m not a photographer.  Not owning a camera placed obstacles in the way of taking pictures.  I’d buy a disposable camera before a vacation.   I picked up the post-vacation prints one year and found on the same roll of film shots from the previous year’s trip:  I’d averaged two pictures per month.

Getting the pictureSaying  “I’m not a photographer” was synonymous with “I don’t take pictures” and easily conflated with “I can’t take pictures.”  Which is silly, because anyone can take pictures.  The quality may vary, the reasons may vary, but all you need is a camera and the decision to press a button.

What makes a photographer, then?  Perhaps the eye.  Or the eye and the mindfulness.

I know that in since I began my blog, I’m thinking more visually.  That’s why I’m so appreciative of people who share their pictures with Creative Commons licenses.  I customized my Firefox toolbar with a button: when I click it, it launches Flickr to search for CC-licenses images that I can adapt or modify for use in a non-commercial environment.

This is the search string, in case you’d like to try it:
http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=&l=deriv&ss=2&ct=3&mt=all&w=all&adv=1

I have a similar string for CC-licensed images for commercial environments:
http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=&l=commderiv&ss=2&ct=3&w=all

(I got that idea from the ever-helpful Harold Jarche, who recently posted Photos you can use, a list of several sources for images.)

I’ve developed an informal process for how I use these images here on my blog:

  • The image itself links to the source (e.g., the original on Flickr).
  • The credit line at the bottom of my post links to the photographer’s profile.

In addition, I tell the photographer about it, using a template like this:

Hi, [Photographer Name]:

I want to thank you for posting this photo with a CC license:
[URL for the original image]

I used it with a post on my blog, and thought you might like to see the result:
[URL for the blog post]

The photo on my blog links back to the original in your photoset, and the credit line at the bottom of the post links to your profile.

I very much appreciate that you made it available.

The “credit crunch” in my post title refers to the fact that I’ve recently caught up on these thank-you notes.  I sent out about seven dozen in the last six weeks and received some 20 replies.  Nearly all thanked me for letting them know about the picture, and several commented on the post in question.

Crowdsourcing (the image file)One photographer did point out his specific requirements for acknowledgment–requirements I hadn’t met.  I couldn’t figure out how to include the kind of credit desired, and so I removed the image from the post and let the him know I’d done so.

Lesson for me: double-check the CC license.

When I search for images, I try to find ones a little out of the ordinary.  The two I’ve included with this post strike me that way: I hadn’t expected something like the first one, which scarcely hints at a camera.  The second image appealed to me in several ways: the different directions people are looking, the red robes, the children.

All these things help widen my visual vocabulary, and I’m convinced they enhance the thoughts that appear on my Whiteboard.

CC-licensed images:
An eye for photographs by Htet-Aung;
media monks by Wonderlane.

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One semester, as an undergrad, I took a course on ancient epics:  Gilgamesh, the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Voyage of the Argo, the Aeneid, a couple of side trips along the way. The University of Detroit is a Jesuit school, so we called the professor Father (not Doctor) McKendrick.  I recalled him as I read a post on Dean Shareski’s Ideas and Thoughts blog.

Here’s why: we spent the opening night of class—two and a half hours—on the first seven lines of the Iliad.

Dean Shareski is a digital learning consultant for a public school division in Saskatchewan.  His post, Dealing with My/Our Attention and Information Issues, is well worth reading, even if like me you aren’t involved in the education of children.  Rather than offer a top-five list, he says he wanted to “share a few things I think can be helpful in a day of attention deficits.”  I thought I’d highlight a few here.

Simplify the complex

Dean points to the Common Craft videos as great distillations of complex topics.  He suggests that educators sometimes reject technology in the classroom because of the complexity.  (I’d add that the techno-jazzed can sometimes contribute to that rejection, at least in the world of work.)  “We can spend lots of times examining the intricacies of using media, but without a good story, it doesn’t matter.”

Sometimes good enough is good enough

“When you get 3 million search results, sometimes you settle,” Dean says.  Be honest: when’s the last time you clicked through to the fourth page of a bunch of Google results?    This is not to say “settle for anything.”  It’s more like, “Where are you going, and how long do you plan to pack?”

I’m iterative.  A lot of the time, what I produce gets better if I’ve had the chance to revisit and rethink it.  Heck, sometimes when I’m explaining something, I’ll interrupt myself as a clearer picture emerges in my head.

But there’s sometimes (often?) a diminishing-return factor, and occasionally the procrastinator’s optimism.  (A standing joke with a video producer was, “We’ll fix it in post,” meaning the post-production process.  Sometimes you can’t fix it; sometimes, there isn’t going to be a post.)

Snacking versus eating

For me, this was the grabber in Dean’s post.  I could easy snack all the time, whether you’re talking about information or food.  There’s not necessarily anything wrong with snacking, but for myself, I have to choose to focus.

I’ve always been something of a generalist, at least since I decided not to study English in grad school.  At the same time, I’m drawn to detail when I can discern a story.  When Father McKendrick spent all that time on seven lines of the Iliad (there are nearly 16,000 lines altogether), he turned them into a framework—as Homer had—to invite us further into the story.  Not a snack, an appetizer.

The opening lines of the Iliad, from the Perseus Project.

Rage–Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters’ souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feast for the dogs and birds, and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end.
Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed,
Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles.

(Greek text from the Perseus Project;
translation by Robert Fagles)

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I received the following comment to my last post about #lrnchat.  I’ve decided to display it here, rather than with the other comments on that post.

Personally I think that #lrnchat, in twitter, is more akin to spam. I don’t follow #lrnchat and my twitter stream is spammed.

I get twitter – but using twitter for chatting – no. There are chat rooms, chat programs, and established methods of having real time chat that people have been using for a long time (IRC anyone?)

#lrnchat to me seems like using what’s new and shiny for something that it just doesn’t do well and annoys people NOT part of the conversation.

Dr. Pepper

I’m doubtful Dr. Pepper is the commenter’s real name, and the email address provided is of limited value in learning otherwise.  Dr. Pepper nevertheless remains covered by my blog’s guarantee of satisfaction.)

I don’t agree with the implication that an extended conversation on Twitter is ipso facto spam, any more than Twitter’s trending topics are.  “Unwanted” doesn’t equate to “spam.”

Clay Shirky makes a related point in Here Comes Everybody: people over, say, 40 are in general unaccustomed to publicly-available messages not being addressed to them.  You now hear all kinds of conversations, but for the most part, as Shirky says, “they’re not talking to you.”

I agree there are many ways to have virtual conversations.  $100 against an 8-track tape, however,  says that the average age of an IRC user in the U.S. is closer to my dad’s than to my daughter’s.  IRC has its virtues and its charms, but in terms of its audience appeal, it’s ham radio with a keyboard.

The notion of “established” methods being preferable — which is what I think is being argued — is peculiar; it appears on a blog powered by WordPress (not yet seven years old).  More important, the notion ignores ample evidence that dozens of people–many of them technologically sophisticated–choose to chat via Twitter.

In other words, they’ve made their preference known.

As for annoyance, I’m sure Dr. Pepper is annoyed.  (Maybe even at me, since I willingly participate in #lrnchat and will likely strike again.)  What could trigger the annoyance?

  • You follow #lrnchat, so you see #lrnchat.
  • You follow people using #lrnchat, so their #lrnchat tweets show up.
  • Someone you follow retweeted #lrnchat.

I see those in descending order of annoy-itude.

  • If you follow #lrnchat and don’t like it, then you get several hundred action potentials a week (mainly on Thursday nights).
  • If you follow #lrnchatters, well, that’s a thing they tweet about.
  • If you only see #lrnchat in retweets, then the yoke is hardly bitter and the burden hardly harsh.

I can’t do anything about any of that for you, though you ought to be able to see  possibilities to diminish the impact of the first two.

Well, if I knew who you were, I could block you, and *I* at least would disappear from your Twitter screen.  You could block me with the same result.  But that’s just me.

Many Twitter clients like Tweetdeck include features to filter for or filter out by individual, by topic, or by string. That last could include a hashtag.

Otherwise, #lrnchat and Twitter conversations in general are like the tongue-in-cheek “endorsement” in a newspaper ad for 19th century humorist Artemus Ward:

I have never heard any of your lectures, but from what I can learn I should say that for people who like the kind of lectures you deliver, they are just the kind of lectures such people like.

Thanks to CKL’s HotSheet for the quotation. And thanks to Russell Hoban’s favorite badger, who inspired the title for this post.

Jam on biscuits, jam on toast,
Jam is the thing that I like the most.
Jam is sticky, jam is sweet,
Jam is tasty, jam’s a treat–
Raspberry, strawberry, gooseberry, I’m very
FOND… OF… JAM!

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Dear XXX,

Having trouble with your boss?  Wish you had a few more organizational options?  Try this:

  • Send your boss to the first name in the list below.
  • Make six copies, leaving off the first name and putting your own name and address in sixth place.
  • Send the copies to six friends or colleagues.
  • Within four weeks, you should receive 46,656 new bosses.  Some of them will be keepers.

“Some of them will be keepers” could be the motto for #lrnchat, a Twitter-based discussion held each Thursday from 8:30 pm – 10:00 pm Eastern time.  (Here’s how #lrnchat works.)  You participate by including #lrnchat (a Twitter hashtag) in any Tweet you send.  Following the conversation is easier if you use a tool like Tweetchat.

Last night’s topic was working with subject-matter experts (SMEs, which I insist is read as S.M.E. and not a rhyme for “twee”).  If that’s a topic of interest, you can find quite a few keepers in the transcript on the #lrnchat blog.

I decided to take a look at what happens at #lrnchat, using that transcript:

  • In 90 minutes there were 671 contributions.
    That’s 7.45 a minute, or one every 8 seconds.
  • 69 individuals posted at least one contribution.
    • The 5 most frequent contributors accounted for 27.9% of the total.
      (I was flabbergasted to see I wasn’t one of them.)
    • The next 5 accounted for 17.4%.
      (Ah, there I am, tied for sixth place.)
    • The top 14 contributors (20% of the group) accounted for 55% (take that, Pareto principle).
    • 26 contributors, or 37.7%, chimed in more than 10 times.

So what?

Clearly, you can’t get too deep when you’re talking with 68 other people and have a 140-character limit.  Within that context, though, I think the transcript shows:

  • Little hierarchy. The topic’s open, and if you have something to say, you toss it in.  No talking stick, no mike, no facilitator’s blessing.
  • Little guru-hood. The conversation ping-pongs, often but not always crossing the general topic.  No pontificating–your miter falls off because of the speed of the tweets.
  • Open doors. You can mark an individual item a favorite (to find it more easily later).  You can send a direct message (private tweet) to someone.  You can just plan to contact later.

I was surprised to find so few hyperlinks–I counted only 13.  Maybe that had to do with the topic.  I feel as though I’ve seen more in other #lrnchats, though this is the first time I’ve done detailed counting.

#lrnchat for me is like the bar at a face-to-face conference.  Or maybe the lounge area, outside the bar.  People are relaxed, have the conference topic in common; you can slide into or out of the flow.  You can, as the social media consultant Lawrence Berra said, observe a lot just by watching.  It’s not a seminar, it’s not an internship, but it’s certainly a network.

Are all the contributions worth noticing?  Of course not–but that’s a very context-specific answer.  What *I* find worthwhile is going to differ from what you find worthwhile, which is the whole point.  There’s lots of stuff in the #lrnchat stream. Which ones are keepers?  That depends on what you like to keep.

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Once, on a training discussion board, a colleague said, “Of all the sports, soccer / football makes for the best analogies to business.”

Bingo cards...get your nice fresh bingo cardsTo which I replied, “Of all vegetables, the rutabaga makes the best analogy to bingo cards.”

I knew the colleague well enough to borrow some of his stuff to set up a straw man.  I was leaping onto a favorite soapbox.  I feel about sports analogies at work much the way I do about those endless Jeopardy games that people are always cramming down the throats of perfectly innocent learners.

Please understand, I’m big on analogies.  But their success depends on both aptness and originality.  If you go for the first analogy that wanders across your cerebral cortex, you’re practically guaranteed to select one that’s obvious, shopworn, and insight-free.

So, business like a soccer team?  Right off, people outside the U.S. will smile (or sigh) because you’re using “soccer” when any normal person would say “football.”  And you can’t win, because if by “football” you mean “overstuffed, undermatriculated former college students earning $15,000 per play in a taxpayer-subsidized arena,” they’re still going to smile.

If business is like a football team, then are the shareholders the team owners?  And the customers, they’re…the opponents?  (Yes, it can seem that way, but that’s another day’s rant.)  What about your strategic partners: are they the beer vendors, or the cheerleader squad?

So you're saying that MARKETING is always right?I once heard Don Tosti of the Vanguard Group speak on the notion of “internal customer.”  This was another analogy with wide popularity only a few years back.  It’s fallen out of favor, kind of like the phrase “dot-com.”

Before that fall, though, Tosti was calling into question the aptness of the analogy.  In his analysis, your in-company colleagues aren’t necessarily your “customers.”  Especially if you don’t exchange money for goods or services.  (Blessed are they who lack chargeback systems, for their admin yoke is light.)

Many if not most organizations have internal relationships and power inequities that can make a mockery of the simpleminded idea that everyone’s my “customer.”  If an actual customer’s involved, you’ll be astonished how quickly subgroups will clout will say “make it so.”

All of that to say consider your analogy before you unleash it.  Your audience may include people who see a surfeit of sports analogies as a sign you’d rather be somewhere else, discussing something else.

And you want those folks on your side, if not on your team.

CC-licensed images:
Bingo-game’s worth of rutabagaa: image adapted from this photo by Suzanne Long.
“Internal customer” skeptic by imrational.

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