Who Will See My Comment? [en]

Another interesting observation following my return to Facebook: when somebody responds to one of my posts there, it definitely feels like the audience for this response is primarily the people I am connected to. What I mean by that is that I expect that my contacts have a chance of seeing that response, because responses are closely tied to the original content (“comments and post“ format).

On Bluesky or Mastodon (or Twitter for that matter, and it could partly explain why I drifted away at some point and started spending more time on Facebook), when somebody responds to one of my updates, I do not expect the people connected to me to see it. And indeed, if they are not following the person who responded, if they do not specifically open up my update to see if there are responses or if it is part of the thread, they will not see it. On those platforms, responses are much more “their own thing” than on Facebook or on a blog.

On Facebook, there is an immediate and visible feeling of micro-community around a publication, when people start commenting. It feels like we’ve just stepped into a break-out room. Participants get notifications, and come back to see responses. If the conversation becomes lively, it is made visible to more people. People will end up connecting to each other after having “met” repeatedly in a common friend’s facebook comments.

Bluesky, Mastodon and Twitter (yeah, and Threads) feel more fragmented. It’s more difficult to follow for lots of people. They are faced with bits and pieces of conversations flying about, and access to the context of those is not frictionless. Part of this, I think, has to do with how publication audience is managed (I’ll definitely have to do a “part 4” about this in my Rebooting the Blogosphere series). And another, of course, is the primacy of non-reciprocal connections on those platforms.

What Facebook also does that blogs do not at this stage, is that Facebook makes my comments on other people’s publications candidates for appearing in the news feeds of people who are connected to me. Every now and again, something of the form “Friend has commented on Stranger’s post” will show up. The equivalent in the blogging world would be having a “reading tool” (now RSS readers, but we need to go beyond that, that’s the Rebooting the Blogosphere part 3 post that I’m actively not writing these days) which will not only show me the blog posts that the people I’m following have written, but also that they have commented here or there, on another blog. This tightens the connection between people and contributes to discovery – ie, finding new people or publications to follow.

In summary: there is something fundamentally different in how Facebook, the other socials, and blogs make visible to a person’s network the comments/responses they have made elsewhere. And the “feeling of conversation/community” of multi-person exchanges also varies from one platform to another.

Rebooting The Blogosphere (Part 1: Activities) [en]

Some thoughts (part 1 of 3) following exchanges on Bluesky with Dave, amongst others. My Facebook exile is clearly bringing to a boil my preoccupation with our reliance on big capitalist platforms for our online presence and social life. Though I never “stopped blogging”, I clearly poured a lot more energy over the last decade into what I now think of as “The Socials” (Twitter, Facebook, Bluesky, Mastodon and the like).

Why? How did that happen? What makes it so much more “easier” to hang out over there than to write here? Dave rightly points out to “1-click subscribe” as a killer feature that Twitter brought to the table (written summary of the podcast if you don’t want to dive into listening). But there is more than that.

I am pondering a lot on what I am “missing”, having lost facebook. On what is “difficult” about blogging, in comparison. Where is the friction?

Very clearly, one thing that The Socials (I’ll drop the uppercase soon) do very well is:

  1. bring everything (reading, writing, responding) together in one seamless interface/site/app
  2. shift interaction closer to real-time and what we perceive as “conversation”.

The rest of this blog post covers the first point. A second one will cover the second one. And finally, in a third post I’ll try and put together a proposal for how we can use our understanding of how the socials manage “so well” to remove friction from blogging and help reboot the blogosphere.

As I was writing this post I poked around in my archives to link to where I’d spoken about some aspects of the topic, so here are a some of those I dug up, in addition to those linked in the text itself (realising I wrote so much about this stuff it makes my head hurt):

I see three main “activities” for taking part in the text-based social web, and a fourth that may be worth distinguishing from the third:

  1. Reading or consuming: basically, taking in things that others have put there.
  2. Responding, commenting, reacting: expressing oneself based on something somebody else has provided.
  3. Writing: making available to others ideas, stories, in a broad sense, our creations.
  4. Sharing or boosting: highlighting for our network/readership things that are not by us.

Some comments regarding this typology (bear with me, it will come together in the end).

Reading

RSS does a good job of allowing us to collect things to read from different sources into one place. Many different tools make RSS feeds available. Many different tools read/collect/organise RSS feeds. However, they usually keep this collection of feeds private.

As Dave says, subscribing to an RSS feed generally requires too many steps. Too much friction. The socials make it 1-click (sometimes two) to follow or friend (connect to) somebody. And it’s right there in front of you, a button that calls you to do it. Inside blogging platforms like WordPress.com or Tumblr, you have some kind of 1-click subscription, but it keeps you in their internal reader (just like the socials do, by the way).

Commenting

Responding/commenting is a can of worms, in my opinion. When I started blogging, blogs had no comments. We responded to each other’s publications by writing on our own blogs and linking to what we were responding or reacting to. I actually wrote about this a couple of days back.

After a few months of blogging, I added comments to my blog, so one could say it’s pretty much always had them. (For the nostalgic: the blogger discuss thread I got my comments from, and the page on my site which for some time provided the PHP comment script to hungry bloggers.) And most blogs have them too, though far from all.

Comments come with issues, as well as opening new doors:

  • first of all, you’re leaving your stuff in a space that somebody else controls (ring any bells?) – when the “host blogger” deletes their blog or their post, there goes your comment
  • second, the way comments are designed invite shorter contributions or reactions – this makes the exchange more conversational and less epistolary, tightening the relationship between the different parts of the exchange provided by different people and quickening the pace
  • comments link back to the commenter’s blog, therefore creating an incentive to comment for visibility and not just for what one has to say
  • the visibility incentive leads to people commenting while adding little value (in the best cases) and outright spam (in the worst, widespread case)
  • the lack of a frictionless system to be informed of responses to comments (think “response notifications” on the socials) leads to interrupted interactions (I liked the term “drive-by commenting“)
  • the widespread presence of comments on blogs raises the bar for what is perceived as “deserving” to be a blog post, possibly contributing to the idea that writing a blog post is a “big thing” that you might need to make time for (or that might suck up half your day), in comparison with just “leaving a quick comment” after reading something
  • the visibility of comments led to it becoming a measure of blogging success, increasing a kind of competitiveness in the space, and, in some cases, even its commercialisation.

I see comments as solving two main problems:

  1. attaching the “discussion” about a publication to that publication: all in one place, instead of spread out in blog posts you might not even know exist
  2. lowering the barrier to entry for participating in said discussion: you don’t need any sort of account to comment.

Over the years, many tools have attempted, in some way, to “fix” the problems that come with comments. A few examples:

  • coComment: solve the “notification” issue by tracking comments made over different blogs – and somewhat, the “ownership” issue, by giving the commenter a central repository of their comments
  • Disqus: solves notifications and central repository (but limited to Disqus-enabled sites) and maybe spam, to some extent
  • Akismet and all the other spam-fighting systems…

In a world without comments, people who read a post will not necessarily know there is a “response” somewhere else out there in the blogosphere. The blog author might see it if the person responding tells them (some way or another), or if they check their referrers (didn’t we all use to do that). But the reader cannot know, unless the blog post author knows, and links to the response. Trackback and Pingback came in to solve this issue, creating a kind of automated comment on the destination post when somebody linked to it (with all the spam and abuse issues one can imagine).

Tags and Technorati also played a role in “assembling” blog posts around a specific topic, which could be seen as some kind of loose conversation.

But it’s not the same thing as having the different contributions to a conversation one below the other on the screen at the same time.

Writing

This one is simple. There are many good tools (many open-source) to write blog posts. You can create an account somewhere and get started, or install software on a server somewhere – with a hosting company or in your basement. They work on mobile, in the desktop browser, or even in apps. There are generally ways to export your content and move to another tool if you want. Some are full of bells and whistles, others are pared down.

Blogging has no character limit – the socials do. This, implicitly, encourages writing different things. Design also does that: is the box I’m writing in something that takes up the whole page (like the one I’m typing this blog post in) or is it a little box that might expand a bit but not that much, like on Facebook (which also doesn’t have character limits)?

I think this is a crucial aspect which should not be ignored. The blog posts I wrote in 2000-2001 are, for many of them, things that would be updates on the socials today. They are not the same as blog posts, and we need to keep that. The way we interact with “updates” or “blog posts” is also different (I’ll come to that below if you’re still reading by then). They generate a different kind of interaction. And sometimes, we start writing an update (or even a comment/reply) and it transforms into something that could be a blog post. How do we accommodate for that?

Sharing

Sharing is trickier, and this is why I’ve separated from writing. If writing can be thinking out loud or telling a story I have in my head, sharing is “I saw something and you should see it too”. Maybe I want to add an explanation to why I’m sharing it, or “comment” (hah!), but maybe I just want to put it out there, nearly like a shared bookmark. Of course, if what I write about what I’m sharing starts taking up a lot of space, I’m probably going to be writing a blog post with a link in it. And if I’m just sharing a link to something, I might as well be using some kind of public bookmarking tool (remember delicious?)

Bringing it all together

This is what I said the socials were great at. When I’m on Facebook, I am on my news feed (reading). I can 1-click-share and 1-click-comment on what I see, in addition to 1-click-subscribe if something new I want to track crosses my radar. If I want to write something, the box to do so is in the same view as my news feed – or pretty much any “reading” page I’ll be looking at (a group, for example; groups are another thing to talk about, but that’ll be another post).

I don’t really have to determine if I want to read, write, share, comment – I go to the same place. Whatever I want to do, the tool and environment remains the same. Tumblr does that well too.

Whereas look at blogging:

  • I want to write a post, I go to my blogging software
  • I want to read stuff, I open my RSS reader (confession: I’ve never been good at this) or conjure up a blog URL from somewhere (memory? bookmark? blogroll? link in another post?)
  • I’m done reading something (in my RSS reader) and want to comment: I need to click over to the blog itself to do that – or wait, do I want to comment, or write a whole blog post? I have no clue how much I’m going to want to write once I get going, I just know I have something to say.
  • I read a great blog post (or other thing online, for that matter) and want to share it, I need to pick up the link and write a blog post. Or maybe, instead, I just stick the link in a toot on Mastodon? There are “blog this” bookmarklets, but what about if I’m on my phone?
  • Yeah, I could post my “statusy updates” to my blog like it’s summer 2000, but do my blog subscribers really want to see “spent a lot of time feeding the sick old cat” in their RSS reader?

Think about community platforms like Discourse: want to post, want to respond, want to read? All in the same “place”. You get notifications, you can configure them. I think there is a lot to learn from this type of platform and the socials to bring “blogging stuff” together.

And before somebody says: “your blog should replace your socials” or “you should just blog on mastodon”, wait for the post I plan on writing tomorrow about what I see as a very important distinction in between these two types of online “social” spaces: exchange intensity and pace.

Ideas like making WordPress and Mastodon work together and FeedLand (in short, it makes your RSS subscriptions visible on your blog; check the new shiny blogroll in my sidebar, thanks for the shoutout, Dave!) are absolutely on the right track, but if we treat all “conversation” and all “publication” the same, we will fail in building an open, independent social web that is integrated and frictionless enough to be a realistic alternative to the facebooks of this world for more than just us few geeks.

Continue reading with part 2!

Stories to Listen to, Moderating Blog Comments, Teaching Blogging [en]

[fr] Deux ou trois épisodes de podcasts à écouter. Quelques réflexions sur les commentaires de blog (spam ou non?) et la difficulté d'apprendre à bloguer.

Listen to Greetings from Coney Island. I swear you won’t be disappointed. Just don’t make the same mistake I did, and be a bit distracted early on, not realising there are two parallel stories, told by two women with (to me) very similar voices. I actually reached the end of the story before realising I had missed the whole point, so I listened to it all again. It was worth it.

vue cham

Another episode of Love+Radio reminded me of a Moth story I heard quite a long time ago now. It’s about a volunteer at a suicide prevention hotline. That story made me understand something about suicide (which I am lucky not to know from the inside): it’s not about wanting to die, it’s about wanting the pain to stop. Like many Moth stories, it’s beautifully told and very moving. Well worth the small moment of your life you will spend listening to it.

I know, this blog is turning into a podcast review. But not only. See.

One of the challenges I face as editor-in-chief of Open Ears is approving comments. Not so much because we publish controversial articles that have people biting each other’s heads off in the comments (not at all, actually), but more because

  1. spambots are getting better and better at sounding human
  2. some humans are sounding more and more like spambots.

About the latter: people like me have been saying for years that a great way to get your website or blog known is to comment on other blogs. But that’s not quite the whole story. Aligning fluffy or self-promotional comments on other people’s blogs might get your “nofollowed” links out there, but isn’t really going to do what matters, which is encouraging people to actually know you and read your stuff because they’re interested. Clicks and visits only really mean anything if they come from the heart.

So what does work? Well, actually, being a valued member of the communities you are part of. At the time, during the Golden Age of Blogging, leaving meaningful comments on blogs you read and linked to was a way of being that. It’s not about the links, it’s about the place you respectfully take or are given willingly. Add value. Be helpful. Try and make friends. That’s the spirit of “leaving comments”.

Which brings me to an important piece of blogging advice I came up with while trying to teach my latest batch of students the basics of blogging (it was, to put it kindly, a mixed success): blog about stuff that’s in your head. Write about what you know. If you have to google around to factcheck this or that, find a link, or look up a detail, that’s fine. But if you find yourself doing research and reading up to gather the material for your blog post (and the post is not about your research), chances are you’re “doing it wrong”.

Blogging is this weird thing which as at the same time so easy (for “natural bloggers”) but so hard to learn or teach. I think that is because it touches upon “being” more than “doing”. It’s about daring a certain degree of authenticity that we are not encouraged to wear in our school or professional lives. And it’s definitely not how we learn to write. In a way, teaching blogging is a bit like trying to teach people to dare to be themselves in public. This makes you think of Brené Brown and vulnerability, does it not? Exactly. And that is why, I think, blogging is a powerful tool to connect people.

Do Not Use Your Brand Name to Sign Comments [en]

Never use your brand name to sign comments. You are a person, not a brand.

How do you want to be perceived?

As a person?

Or as “advertising-disguised-as-conversation”?

There’s nothing wrong with representing a brand. You can even sign “Judy Smith (MyGreatBrand)” if it’s important to you — but be aware that it will make you sound like a commentor-for-hire or a “community manager” (note the quotes and the lowercase, not to be confused with the Community Manager, reserved for people who “get it” and usually occupy a senior position).

Signing with your brand name is also the surest way of being identified as spam — whether you really are spam or not.

You don’t want to make things difficult for the blogger who is deciding whether to approve or trash your comment: identify yourself clearly as a human being. Whether you use a name or a stable, recognizable nickname is not a big issue (at least for me). But using your brand as your nickname is so… cheesy.

And also impolite. You know who I am. Your comment is an open door to a conversation. Why would I not be allowed to know who you are? Even the robots who answer the phone in the worst of customer service call centres tell you their name.

Don’t be a ghost, hiding under the big white sheet of your brand.

Please do not sign comments with your brand name. Be a human being. Give me a name.

I’m toying the idea of replacing brand names with something witty (“Insert Brand Name Here”, or preferably something better I’ll think of under the shower tomorrow morning) and making them link to this article when people try signing comments with them. What do you think?

Conversation in Comments vs. Conversation in Twitter [en]

[fr] Twitter n'est pas en train de tuer les conversations dans les commentaires des blogs. Le bavardage s'est déplacé dans Twitter, Friendfeed, Facebook -- mais quand certains disent que la conversation y est meilleure, ils ignorent le fait qu'il y a plusieurs sortes de conversation.

Hey, another “vs.” post! It must be because I get tired quickly of people comparing apples and oranges, and saying that we’re not going to eat apples anymore because we now have oranges.

A good year and a half ago there was some talk around the fact that the conversation had moved out of blogs and into Twitter and Friendfeed.

That’s not quite true: some of the conversation has moved from blog comments into the stream. The chatter, mainly.

Just like, when comments first started appearing on weblogs (remember those times, folks?) — well, some of the conversation that was happening from blog post to blog post moved into the comments.

But there was already conversation. Blogs without comments are still blogs.

So, what has happened? The more immediate, chat-like conversation has indeed moved out of blog comments and into Twitter, Facebook, and Friendfeed-like services. The short one-liners. But the real value-adding comments, those that make the conversation meaningful, those that actually discuss in depth what the blogger wrote, or contribute something beyond “great post” or “load of horseshit” — those are still there in our blog comments.

I see a parallel here with the distinction I make between live-tweeting and live-blogging. I’m not anti-Twitter or anti-anything: I love Twitter, and use it for more than my fair share of chatter. But the chatter of today most often has lost its appeal tomorrow, and will not take the place of deep conversation that one can catch up with even once it has gone cold.

This, by the way, is also the root of my dislike of threaded conversations on blogs.

Les commentaires d'un blog ne sont pas un espace de pub! [fr]

[en] I'm tired of people using blog comments as advertising space (it's particularly a problem on the ebookers.ch travel blog that I manage). I've decided that I was tired of racking my brains to figure out if this or that slightly fishy comment was ham or spam, so in future, people who sign comments with brand names (or any non-human name, for that matter) will not see their comments published. Ditto if the URL provided with the comment points to something resembling a commercial site (well, anything that is clearly not that person's site).

Y’en a marre! Le spam mécanique qui nous assome de Britney peu vêtue et de Viagra dans nos commentaires de blog, c’est déjà pas drôle, mais il y a des filtres à spam genre Akismet qui font assez bien leur travail.

Mais là, ce qui commence à me sortir par les trous de nez, ce sont les personnes (au pire malhonnêtes, au mieux mal informées) qui s’appliquent à laisser des commentaires “pseudo-intelligents” à droite et à gauche pour promouvoir leur site/blog/produit.

Ça va de la remarque vide genre “super article, merci!” ou “j’adore ton blog!” au commentaire un peu plus réfléchi et même parfois pertinent, en passant par le franchement publicitaire plus ou moins subtil.

Les auteurs de ces commentaires ont parfois un nom d’être humain, mais souvent pas. Et leur URL n’est clairement pas celle de leur blog ou site personnel.

C’est particulièrement grave sur le blog de voyage ebookers.ch, dont j’ai l’honneur d’être “blogueuse-rédac-chef”. Environ la moitié des commentaires que nous recevons sont entre le douteux et le franchement commercial. Quand quelqu’un qui s’appelle “blog voyage” laisse un commentaire sympathique 2-3 fois par mois, on se pose des questions. Ou bien alors l’annonce pour une location d’appartement dans une rue de Paris dont nous parlons dans un article. Les liens vers d’autres sites de tourisme ou de voyage. J’en passe.

Alors bref, y’en a marre. Voici ce que j’ai décidé.

  1. Déjà, pour commencer, si vous n’êtes pas capable de signer votre commentaire d’un nom humain ou d’un pseudonyme clair, je ne publie pas votre commentaire.
  2. Si votre commentaire se complaît dans la banalité et sent de façon suspecte “l’excuse à lien”, il croupira dans l’obscurité de la file de modération sans jamais voir la lumière du jour.
  3. Si vous utilisez un nom d’humain et qu’en plus votre commentaire est génial, mais que le lien fourni laisse à penser qu’il est commercial, alors je le publierai, mais en supprimant le lien.

Méchant? Oui.

Je comprends toutefois que de nombreuses personnes (et agences, parce que je me rends bien compte qu’il y a des professionnels qui se lancent dans ce genre d’opération misérable) agissent ainsi par manque d’informations. Ou se basant sur de mauvaises informations provenant de soi-disant experts en marketing 2.0 ou que sais-je, mais en fait qui n’y comprennent que dalle.

Donc, du coup, je vais vous expliquer.

Oui, laisser des commentaires sur d’autres blogs est en excellent moyen de promouvoir le vôtre. Mais seulement si vous ne le faites pas dans le but premier de faire de la promotion. Paradoxal? Pas tant que ça.

La raison pour laquelle les commentaires vont faire connaître votre blog, c’est parce que ces commentaires vont vous faire connaître. Ils vont vous faire connaître à travers l’intelligence de vos propos, la vivacité de votre esprit, le tranchant de votre plume clavier. Les commentaires d’un blog, c’est l’espace privilégié de la conversation, et donc de la rencontre entre êtres humains. Comme j’aime le dire, on ne peut pas avoir une conversation avec un communiqué de presse — on ne peut pas non plus avoir une conversation avec un robot publicitaire, même si celui-ci s’appelle Juliette.

Et j’ai une mauvaise nouvelle pour les robots publicitaires: on les repère de loin dans la foule des humains.

Quelques exemples. (J’ai omis les cas tout à fait évidents d’un côté comme de l’autre.)

  1. Un article portant sur la bonne manière d’organiser sa valise: j’y laisse un commentaire vantant les mérites des shampooings solides de chez Lush. Je n’ai pas d’actions chez Lush, ce n’est pas un client (sinon je le préciserais, du coup), je n’ai aucun bénéfice direct à en parler, si ce n’est que je suis un fan de produits Lush et que j’ai envie de partager ça. => publié.
  2. Un article parlant de San Francisco: Ben (je sais qu’il s’appelle comme ça grâce à son e-mail et à une signature en fin de commentaire) laisse un commentaire avec une petite info supplémentaire et un merci pour les photos qui lui rappellent de bons souvenirs. Ça s’annonce bien, sauf que dans le champ “nom et prénom” il a écrit “blog voyage” et que le lien qu’il fournit est celui de Enroutes!, une plateforme de blogs de voyage, justement. Ajouté aux deux autres commentaires du genre laissés sur d’autres articles, ça sent fortement le “j’essaie de faire connaître un site en laissant des commentaires à droite et à gauche”. => pas publié.
  3. Sur l’article “Trois destinations de rêve“: quelqu’un laisse un commentaire répondant à la question posée dans l’article. Problème? Son nom est “Ces petits riens”, comme le blog donné en lien. Du coup, alerte rouge. Je vais visiter le blog en question, je fais un peu d’analyse de texte et… cela semble effectivement a première vue être un blog personnel écrit par une personne. Un conseil pour la blogueuse en question? Se choisir un pseudonyme qui ressemble plus à un nom qu’à un titre de publication, si elle tient à rester anonyme. Son commentaire a failli ne pas être publié. => publié, mais ça m’a demandé du boulot de vérification et j’en ai marre.
  4. Enfin, l’article donnant quelques trucs “santé” pour voyager malin: “Rando” (ça commence mal) laisse un commentaire pour préciser qu’en effet, il ne faut pas oublier de prendre une trousse de secours pour ce genre de destination… avec lien sur la page de vente de trousses de secours d’un magasin en ligne de matériel de randonnée. => pas publié.

Avec ces quelques exemples, j’espère que vous voyez où est le problème avec ce genre de commentaire “trop promotionnel”: on ne sait pas vraiment qui est en train d’écrire le commentaire (le proprio du magasin en ligne? le créateur de la plateforme de blogs de voyage? l’employé d’une agence de comm?) et clairement, le commentaire est laissé plus pour la valeur qu’il leur apporte que pour celle qu’il nous apporte. C’est pas très désintéressé, comme qui dirait.

Pourraient-ils procéder autrement? Oui.

Par exemple, Ben pourrait signer les commentaires de son nom et laisser en lien son propre blog de voyage au lieu de celui de la plate-forme. Cela éviterait de donner l’impression qu’il essaie simplement de placer un lien vers la plateforme. Ou s’il est le créateur de la plate-forme et qu’il cherche à promouvoir celle-ci, il pourrait nous écrire pour nous suggérer de faire un article à ce sujet pour nos lecteurs (ce qu’on ferait ou non, c’est une autre histoire). Dans les deux cas, la communication serait claire et transparente.

Quant à “Rando”, il pourrait nous dire simplement dans le commentaire que son magasin en ligne vend des trousses de secours, et peut-être nous expliquer en quoi les siennes sont tellement plus extraordinaires que les autres que l’on pourrait trouver. Il nous donnerait son nom, et un lien qui nous en dise un peu plus sur lui. Ça passerait ou non, clairement, aussi en fonction de son engagement dans la micro-communauté du blog. Si c’est son seul commentaire, bof. Si c’est un contributeur engagé (et authentique!) régulier, on lui passerait probablement ça, parce qu’il aurait accumulé assez de capital social pour se le permettre.

De façon générale: payer quelqu’un (à l’interne ou à l’externe) pour aller arroser les blogs de pseudo-commentaires dans l’espoir de faire connaître son site (ou le faire soi-même) est une mauvaise stratégie, qui finira simplement par vous ranger dans la catégorie des spammeurs et pollueurs.

Ici, comme avec tout ce qui touche aux médias sociaux, ce n’est pas l’action (laisser un commentaire, envoyer un tweet, faire une page sur facebook, publier sur un blog) qui est importante. C’est l’état d’esprit dans laquelle elle est faite.

Et pour cela, encore et encore, lisez le Cluetrain Manifesto. Oui, même s’il faut vous taper la version anglaise.

En attendant, moi, je vais devenir impitoyable dans la modération des commentaires des blogs que je gère. Si vous n’avez pas un nom d’humain, passez votre chemin!

Playing with Google Wave [en]

[fr] Histoire de s'amuser un peu avec Google Wave, j'ai créé une wave autour de mon dernier article, histoire de voir ce que le contexte "Wave" peut changer à la discussion qui s'ensuit.

My Wave invite arrived this morning (thanks! I actually got two!) and I’ve been playing around with Wave since I got up. It’s fun. It’s a bit buggy. But I find it really exciting.

In the spirit of experimentation and trying things, I’ve decided to create a wave around my last post, Google Identity Dilemma.

A few notes about Wave:

  • big waves make my Firefox so slow that I downloaded Chrome for OSX to run Wave in it — seems much zippier
  • shift+enter “closes” your blip
  • there are public waves around to help get you started — ask me in Wave or ask your contacts about them (love your network!)
  • to make a wave public, for the moment, add [email protected] to your contacts (hit enter, ignore the error message) and then add it to your wave (this might stop working)
  • invites take a while to “arrive” — between the moment people invited me and I got the notice in my inbox, I think a good week went by.

So, if you are one of the lucky ones on Google Wave already, head over to my Google Identity Dilemma wave, add it to yours, invite your friends, and have a wave-fest!

Tumblr to Capture Comments? [en]

[fr] J'aimerais un système permettant de publier directement sur mon Tumblr les commentaires que je laisse sur d'autres blogs, sans passer par coComment.

The other evening, I was explaining that I still used coComment to capture the comments I made on other blogs. As always, people try to suggest alternatives: co.mments or disqus, for example. I appreciate the suggestions, but they show me that I haven’t managed to make myself clear.

CoComment does two main things:

  • track conversations you participate in (or want to keep an eye on) so that you are alerted when a new comment is added to the thread
  • capture the comments you make on other blogs so that you can collect them somewhere or republish them.

I use mainly the second feature. I’m not that interested in tracking all the conversations I take part in. Every now and again I am, and co.mments does indeed do the job, in an ad hoc way. Disqus is quite exciting and also allows centralization of the comments I make with the system (if I got it right), but it has the great disadvantage of still being too “blogger-centric” instead of “commenter-centric”: sure, I can install disqus on my blog (as a blogger), but it isn’t going to help me capture or track all my comments until all the blogs I visit have done the same.

So, like at the end of a messy break-up where you’re still sleeping with your ex, I’m still using coComment for the following:

  • capture the comments I make all over the place and republish them in my Tumblr.

That’s it. One thing coComment does pretty well, despite all the criticism I can make to the service, is capture comments I leave in a variety of comment forms (from WordPress to FriendFeed and Typepad and Blogger and even home-made in some cases) and spit them out in an RSS feed.

Yesterday, an idea dawned on me: what I really want is for my comments to be published in my Tumblr. Maybe we can come up with a way to do that directly?

I use Tumblr loads, and love it. The main thing I actively use it for (I’ve embedded a few RSS feeds in it) is for quoting interesting passages off blog/articles that I read. It’s very easy:

3 Steps to Share a Quote on Tumblr

  1. highlight some text on a page
  2. click on the Tumblr bookmarklet
  3. Tumblr automagically recognizes it as a quote, and pops up a window which you use to publish it.

The result of all this is that I have a Tumblr which is full of quotes, comments (thankfully coComment seem to have removed the nasty ads from the RSS feed I complained about), and other things (videos and screenshots, for example).

I’ve been thinking a lot (but not writing, I know) about how these new tools in my landscape, which weren’t there 8 years ago (in a few days!) when I started blogging, are modifying my publishing and interaction habits. The panel I moderated at BlogTalk in Cork was about that, actually, but I think we only brushed the surface.

So, back to the point for this post: I’d like a hack for my Tumblr bookmarklet — or maybe a separate bookmarklet (by Tumblr or a third party) which will publish the comment I’m submitting to my tumblelog. It would work a bit like the coComment bookmarklet: click it to activate it at some point before hitting submit — and it does its magic when you submit the comment.

If you like the idea, head over the Get Satisfaction and add your 2 cents.

About Not Reading [en]

[fr] Je me suis rendu compte tout dernièrement à quel point il est facile de répondre à une question sans l'avoir lue en entier, de commenter sur un billet de blog sans avoir cliqué sur le lien. FriendFeed pousse un peu à ça, avec sa manie de lister des titres de billets sur lesquels on peut commenter (je prétends pas avoir une meilleure solution).

Récemment, je demandais à mon entourage leur avis sur une question de workshops avant ou après Going Solo (j'en parlerai ailleurs plus en détail, ce n'est pas le propos de ce billet), et j'ai été étonnée de la quantité de réponses qui semblaient indiquer que mon interlocuteur n'avait en fait pas lu le lien que je lui avais donné.

Je ne vais pas jeter la pierre, je me rends régulièrement coupable du même raccourci (commenter sans avoir lu) même si j'essaie vraiment de me limiter. Ça me rappelle les Mythologiques de Lévi-Strauss, qu'on cite à tout va mais que personne n'a en fait lues en entier...

I’m guilty too. I sometimes read the title of a blog post, or a few sentences of an article, and comment on it.

It struck me recently how common this practice is, and also how it impairs communication. It’s the shortcut, the bet we make that we guessed or assumed correctly, the easy way out. Communication with no parasites requires work, and patience.

These last two days I’ve been trying to make up my mind about whether to place workshops before or after the main day of conferences for Going Solo. It’s a tricky problem which I don’t want to start discussing right now (I’m going to blog about the issues I face more precisely on the Going Solo blog shortly).

So, I chatted with people, Twittered about it, got into e-mail conversations, and decided to sum up some of my thoughts in a Tumblr entry, which allowed me to simply point people there and ask them what their thoughts were.

And I was amazed at how many people didn’t actually respond to my point of concern (“are there any economical/sales/marketing reasons for putting a workshop before a conference, if there are other good reasons to place it after”) because the title, visible in the URL, led them to believe it was a simpler question: http://steph.tumblr.com/post/37831000/workshops-before-or-after.

Now, I’m guilty as much as they are. I took a shortcut too by blogging my thoughts and giving them a link, rather than engaging with each of them personally from ground zero.

But setting aside the question or workshops (which I’ll expound in another post), it did serve as an enlighting reminder that people (me included) do not always read what they react to.

It reminds me of one of my university teachers who told us the following story. When he was doing his PhD, he started trudging through the four volumes of Claude Lévi-Strauss’s Mythologiques. For those who are not familiar with Lévi-Strauss, Mythologiques is his master work and is oft-cited in many disciplines of the academic world. Well, as he was stumbling upon some particularly nasty passages, he started asking collegues and professors what they had thought of them. And to his surprise, he realised that nobody he could find had actually read through the four volumes. Everyone was talking about this work, but nobody had actually read it in its entirety.

Isn’t that incredible?

Well, not so incredible if you think of it — at least not in the academic world. And obviously, not in the blog world either.