Do take the time to explore the latest issue of Digital Web: simplicity. My “twin brother” has contributed a precious tutorial on site planning.
At ALA this week, a piece on Microsoft’s Smart Tags. A rather long read, but complete and interesting.
Stephanie Booth's online ramblings since summer 2000
Do take the time to explore the latest issue of Digital Web: simplicity. My “twin brother” has contributed a precious tutorial on site planning.
At ALA this week, a piece on Microsoft’s Smart Tags. A rather long read, but complete and interesting.
The notify list page has been updated, and the list itself has been moved to yahoogroups.
More and more pages are going table-less each day. In the archive, the coding and writing sections, you’ll find pages with and without tables. The india and about sections are completely table-less – but that wasn’t very long to do (and while I’m at it, I’m making sure the pages are up-to-date, which explains my sluggish progress in the rip-out).
Vu pour vous: Loft Story.
Que dire? Je ne tenterai même pas de répondre à ceux qui y voient une occasion de voir “la vraie vie” à la télé. Il n’y a rien de “naturel”, là -dedans… [suite]
Par souci d’éviter le ton de l’attaque personelle dans lequel je ne manquerais pas de glisser, je m’abstiendrai de tout commentaire concernant la présence sur le plateau de Jean-Claude Van Damme. Ceux qui l’ont vu en action savent de quoi je parle, et ceux qui l’ont raté n’ont rien raté (sauf s’ils avaient encore des illusions quant au personnage).
One of the things I missed the most when I arrived in India was the long evenings. Today, at something past 10 pm, the sky has only just become black.
The first day I arrived in Pune, we went out to eat around 7 pm. My plane had landed at 5 o’clock, I had had time to dump my stuff in my room, have a bath, and get changed. We stepped outside and it was pitch black. All of a sudden,
it felt as though my internal clock had broken down: it couldn’t be dark already!
I learnt to live with it. Being closer to the equator, India sees less difference in night length throughout the year than a country like Switzerland. It’s logical, it makes perfect sense, but I never would have thought about it. Not before it hit me straight in the eyes. I guess
Switzerland sounds to Indians like Scandinavia sounds to us.
One thing Indians tend to find really weird is the fact that we don’t have a rainy season. “You mean it rains all year long?” Well, of course it doesn’t rain every single day here. But it can rain at any given date. Simply enough, the idea of living in a place where there is no monsoon must sound quite incredible to the indian mind – just as we have trouble
imagining what the monsoon can be like before we have lived (swam) through it.
Today was the last lesson of my class on “Visual Hinduism”. We explored architecture, iconography, miniatures, but also rituals (hence my presentation on indian weddings) and finally even cinema. The teacher, who was doing this kind of “visual” class for the first time, was curious about our feedback.
Actually, I thought it was a great idea. Academic teaching often neglects the realm of the eye – unless you are studying history of art. And the visual world is very important for grasping indian culture.
I remember the first time I saw real pictures of India. My interest for India came late, as I was studying, so I had never spent much time looking at books, documentaries or other hippy friends’ photographs. All I had seen were photographs by Benoît Lange (or similar artists), which are
beautiful pictures but hardly prepare you for what you are actually going to see in indian streets.
So the first “real” indian photographs I saw were pictures of a pilgrimage that my teacher was giving a conference about. I had already started planning my trip to India, although it was still a long way off, and I can remember the surprise of seeing the stretch of brown earth, the
rickety stalls next to the road, and people scattered everywhere. “Gosh, it looks like that over there!?”
During my first days in India, my most intense culture shock was visual. I wasn’t prepared for it at all – I couldn’t have prepared myself, had I even wanted to. Everything I laid my eyes on was new and
unknown. Nothing made sense. All I could see was a mass of colours and shacks and rubbish and puddles and dogs and people. I just stayed there for hours on end, stunned, perched on my small terrasse above the street, looking at the strange world outside and trying to get over the
indigestion.
Here is some dull boring stuff if you are wondering why I am so
silent.
I’ve just finished preparing my last presentation which will take place
tomorrow morning, 8 am. During the last weeks, I’ve twice repeated the
feat of cramming a month’s worth exam preparation into four or five days.
Rather happy about myself, but there still is a little to do before next
Monday (written exam) and Wednesday (oral exam).
No, you don’t want to know what my subjects are. Please.
I guess I’ll catch up on online life a bit once I’m done with this big
bit…
I’ve compiled a list of pointers to stuff I
wrote about the KC hoax.
And while I was at it – as there is a fair amount of french material –
I tried Babelfish on a
couple of pages of mine.
I was very positively suprised.
So if you’ve always wondered what all this French stuff was in the writing section, start reading! Just don’t blame me if the
language isn’t pretty, though…
Oui, encore. Un article a paru dans Libération, auquel j’ai d’ailleurs
réagi. Profitez-en pour lire aussi ce que Karl a à ajouter.
Toute cette histoire m’a donné l’occasion de réfléchir un petit peu à
la presse et à son rôle. Ça m’était déjà arrivé
avant, bien sûr, mais c’est toujours intéressant. C’est surtout lorsque
l’on vit une histoire de l’intérieur et qu’elle est ensuite
couverte par les médias qu’on a l’occasion de se rappeler la fiabilité
parfois douteuse des informations qui nous sont servies.
Lorsque les articles en anglais ont commencé à paraître, on a tous été
étonnés-amusés-choqués-effrayés par la quantité et la qualité des
distorsions dans la présentation de l’investigation et des
résultats produits. Je parle bien ici de
l’investigation, et non des spéculations sur ce qui s’était
véritablement passé. L’investigation, ses conclusions, c’était notre
groupe qui l’avait produite, nous étions donc bien placés pour connaître
son déroulement et ses conclusions.
Des emails sont partis, des coups de fil ont été lancés, certains
articles ont été corrigés, d’autres pas. Je suis bien consciente que
souvent les journalistes écrivent des articles à la
chaîne, et qu’ils n’ont pas forcément le temps de se documenter à
fond sur chaque sujet. Je trouve cependant appréciable lorsqu’ils ont la
conscience professionnelle de réagir aux alertes de ceux qui “baignent
dedans”.
En ce qui concerne l’article présenté ici, j’ai réagi sur un
certain nombre de points qui portaient aussi sur les faits. Ayant
suivi l’histoire depuis le début, ayant lu à peu près tout ce qu’il y
avait à lire pendant que le sujet était “chaud”, et connaissant au moins
un des acteurs principaux de ce drame, je pouvais sans trop de danger
tabler sur la qualité de mes informations.
Ce qui me dérangeait le plus concernait la nature de l’intérêt
de Randall pour Kaycee. Nous parlons donc de faits, je vous
l’accorde, et personne ne saura jamais pour sûr le fin mot de la vraie
vérité sur le sujet ; ). Si vous lisez l’article, vous en retiendrez
probablement qu’il y avait de “l’amourette” dans l’air.
Je ne peux pas exclure qu’il y en ait eu – tout comme je ne peux pas
exclure, dans l’état actuel de mes connaissances, que les pas de l’homme
sur la lune aient été un gros canular amerloque. Mais disons simplement
deux choses.
Je crois que ce dernier point est important. On peut bien sûr spéculer
sur la nature des sentiments de Randall pour Kaycee. Mais ces spéculations
reposent au plus sur une intuition de l’auteur, basée au fond sur le
stéréotype suivant: un homme s’investit pour une jeune fille leucémique,
c’est donc qu’elle lui plaît.
Je ne vais pas m’étendre plus longtemps sur ce sujet, dont tout le
monde commence à avoir la nausée. Je tenais surtout à vous dire que
lorsqu’on a la “chance” d’être mêlé à une affaire dont s’empare la
presse, c’est une occasion inouïe de lever un peu le voile sur
son fonctionnement, ses rouages, ses insuffisances… et de
remettre en perspective la nature des nouvelles que nous lisons
quotidiennement.
Du coup, j’en profite pour vous offrir une petite compilation de mes
réflexions au sujet de l’histoire.
You can be “open” about yourself in two ways:
Depuis ma plus tendre enfance, j’ai la vicieuse
tournure d’esprit de me considérer comme différent du commun des mortels.
Cela aussi est en train de me réussir.
*
Les ânes voudraient que j’observe pour moi-même
les conseils que je proclame pour les autres. C’est impossible puisque moi
je suis complètement différent…
Salvador Dali, Journal d’un génie
Le fait que moi-même, au moment de peindre, je ne
comprenne pas la signification de mes tableaux, ne veut pas dire que ces
tableaux n’ont aucune signification: au contraire leur signification est
tellement profonde, complexe, cohérente, involontaire, qu’elle échappe à
la simple analyse de l’intuition logique.
Salvador Dali, Oui
Another thing I’ve wanted to note for a while was pointed out by Kristin
Thomas concerning the Kaycee affair. Although I may not agree with everything Kristin
says, her article makes a very interesting and thought-provoking read.
Kristin points out that a story
more often than through
becomes true through mere repetition
facts.
We are more likely to believe something because we have heard it many
times, than because we have actually had proof of it or learnt it by
observation (and here, can you smell a tinge of Quine’s
Web of Belief?)
Now, think about it. How many things to you hold true simply because
enough people have told you? Well, don’t think about it too hard, it might
make you dizzy. It’s making me dizzy, in any case. If it came
public tomorrow that no man ever walked on the moon, I’d
only be half-surprised (yes, I’m aware that “conspirationists” have
gathered plenty of evidence to prove the hoax).
There are some famous examples. Besides the one Quine cites in his book
(about the area of Monaco, which turned out to be falsely
stated in all the major encyclopedias and atlases), do you remember this
thing about spinach containing incredible amounts of
iron? Well, it all started off when somebody messed up one decimal in
their calculations – and it was copied for years ever after without a
double-check.
So these are examples where academics and books get it wrong. But
normal people do the same thing, of course. How much of what you know
about economics, politics, religion, history and the like
is based on repetition? And how much is based on your direct observation?
Or on proof which has been demonstrated to you?
I don’t mean to say we should stop believing what we are told. I really
hope I don’t mean that. But I find it a little scary –
unsettling, for the least.