Stephanie Booth's online ramblings
I know the article has been out for a while, but it’s worth reading through: To Hell With Bad Editors.
A well-felt article on the damage done to the web by (particularly) WYSIWYG editors. Read it even if you use a WYSIWYG editor and you’re convinced you’re doing the right thing.
Oh, and if you are so inclined, CodeBitch has written a few lines about the aptitude of human beings to learn HTML. Yes, I have what you need: HTML Express tutorial.
Happy coding!
I’m making progress. My brain is almost totally fried. But surprisingly, I still have a little bit of hair left in. Enjoy the story!
Recommended reading for the day, at A List Apart: Forgiving Browsers Considered Harmful.
More on the topic maybe, if my head clears up some day. [concussion still]
Over at waferbaby: do you think paper and books will eventually disappear?.
Feel free to watch me sink as I try to float.
Spécialement pour vous, amis frémissant devant la langue anglaise, un portail francophone pour ce site. Le lien “français” dans la navigation vous y emmènera joyeusement, où que vous vous trouviez.
J’en ai profité pour mettre en ligne un petit texte écrit sur le choc culturel et ses bienfaits.
Un avertissement toutefois: ces pages utilisent la “nouvelle version” de mon site, qui est encore en phase de fignolage. Plus de tableaux, mais quelques problèmes encore pour IE5 Mac (et aussi IE4.5). Je vous conseille de désactiver les feuilles de style si vous voulez lire en toute tranquilité. J’espère trouver bientôt une solution!
After installing IE6, some emails started coming into Outlook Express with no subject or sender. The problem persisted even though I uninstalled IE6 – and was most irritating as it messed up all my email sorting rules. It seems the problem is due to a corrupt mlang.dll file. Glad to have the solution!
Suite à une récente discussion, j’ai tiré pour vous de mes archives une composition française vieille de plus de dix ans: C’est un mec. Y meurt.
Strange what secrets can do. Secrets kept by parents from their children – to shield them from pain. But almost as if by magic, pain will find its way though the cracks.
Years after, you realize it is there.
Inside me, there is the pain of losing the one I love. There is also the pain of facing death before my time has come. It is not my pain – but I carry it all the same.