Tuesday, November 30, 2010

An anti-social conspiracy?

Further to my post yesterday, in which I bemoaned being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of differing opinions, I began to consider how this related to my lack of social interaction on the Web. I do not collect "friends" on-line, I think am friends with about 6 people, I have 4 followers on my Twitter account (and follow 3), I am notorious for my neglect of my Linkedin account. I have boundless respect for people who can maintain relationships (even if only virtual) with dozens or hundreds of people but I simply can't do it. Not least of the reasons is my previously discussed fear of accidentally offending someone I care about but, related to that, I just can't imagine that people want to know that I was stuck in a traffic jam for 45 minutes or that I am now 'friends' with some other complete stranger.
In a neat bit of synchronicity, one of my favourite tech bloggers yesterday posted and article about 'unfriending and unfollowing', here http://blog.louisgray.com/2010/11/unfriending-unfollowing-unsubscribing.html
Interesting article but I was a little horrified at the idea of reducing the number of  'friends' down to 1000 or so. I'm not sure I will have that many friends in my entire lifetime but I guess I consider it a matter of quality, not quantity.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Delicious, A Grumpy Dragon and Losing Motivation

Well, this has been an interesting few weeks. I have a lot on my plate at the moment; people who want me to fix their PC’s, an aunt who wants me to edit her memoirs and has sent me the chapter about the recent death of her husband as an opening salvo, multiple, conflicting, Christmas-Day-Family-gathering invitations from arms of the family that aren’t actually talking to each other, a wedding video that simply refuses to work, never-ending house renovations, mortgage amendments and Web 2.0 training.
And, suddenly, it all came to a grinding halt.
I know these issues are no more than any other normal working person has (and a LOT less than any parent) but I found myself overwhelmed and completely stopped doing any work that wasn’t utterly necessary to a/ keep me employed or b/ keep my wife happy, which is actually more important. I stopped going into my home office, stopped fixing other peoples computers, stopped my Twitter posts (which is nothing more than a list of the songs I wake up with), stopped answering emails. For about a week I didn’t even open my laptop – the only computer exposure I had was to the PC on my desk at work.
This has happened to me a few times in the past and that experience has taught me that there will be one or two key issues that have bought about what amounts to a Windows-style ‘freeze’. Find and deal with the obstructions and normal flow will resume. In most cases it turns out to be caused by guilt that I haven’t done something.
I decided that something about Web 2.0 bothered me but I ignored it, instead of facing the problem, and now I can’t find any interest in continuing. So I tried reviewing the lessons, one by one, to see which one I chose to skip glibly past.
“Ah-ha!” I muttered to myself, “So, what exactly is your problem with Delicious? It seems a rather innocuous little service; why are you so peeved at it that you can’t function properly.”
This little question took some serious thought because I couldn’t see exactly why I was so annoyed about it. I don’t use Delicious, never have, never will….
And yet I have more bookmarks and favourites than any geek I know. Aren’t I precisely the target audience?
Thinking about audiences is what got me on the right track, finally.  I was having a discussion about certain Perth blogs and papers and how angry I get reading the opinions of contributors (my wife won’t even let me buy some WA papers; she says they ‘…angry up the blood…”) who I referred to as “…the people who get their opinions from talkback radio…”
Something about saying this made me think about the Web and I started resolving my issue with Delicious.
I am a great advocate of the democratisation of information, and love the concept of equitable access to knowledge, if not wisdom, and the Web is arguably the second greatest tool to achieve that access, after writing itself.
For years I have been using the Web as a vast ocean of information, paddling when I want a quick insight, swimming when I want to compare and contrast (if you’ll excuse a term from my school years), almost drowning when discovering something completely out of my comfort zone.
More than anything I am a passionate lurker of forums; car forums, phone forums, PC forums, photography forums, political forums, news forums, gardening forums, renovation forums, the list goes on and on and on. I love the way that the combined insight of hundreds or, occasionally, thousands of contributors can almost always provide me the answer, solution or experience I need to resolve my issue, fix that busted part or help decide the best value toy.
Unfortunately forums are also the primary habitat of the Colourful Chest-Beating Opinionator.
Notwithstanding that I sound exactly like a classic Grumpy Old Man I get really annoyed at the number and ferocity of various opinions out there. It was years before I discovered what a Troll was (it’s an Internet denizen that spouts opinions, often outrageous opinions, with the specific intention of annoying others or agitating discord), and that single discovery probably reduced my blood pressure by twenty points. I tend to lurk (observe without contributing) forums because I’m seeking data, not because I want to get into a flame war with some conspiracy-obsessed Opinionator desperately trying to stir up controversy for their own self-serving agenda.
There have only ever been half-a-dozen occasions I have offered my opinion anywhere on the Web, primarily because I don’t want to cause offence and aggravate someone whose sensitivity is screwed up to 11. My opinion is not something I fling around with abandon because I know how diverse the range of opinions, how venomous reactions can be, how permanent any casual comment online.
I’m the kind of guy who frets for 24 hours after any Facebook update, hoping I haven’t inadvertently irritated a friend of a friend.
(There is a couple of points that need to be made here. Firstly, anyone who knows me personally is going to be wearing a significant frown right now because they know I have an opinion, anecdote or reference about any subject known to man and I am not famed for my reticence in sharing them. True enough, but that is face to face. It may be surprising to some but I actually do refrain from sharing some of my opinions if they are not appropriate for the audience – that is not something you can do with a posting on the Web. Importantly, instant apologies can be made in real life, if opinions do upset people, whereas those same issues can fester and grow online before anyone knows offence has been caused.
Secondly, I am aware that there is something contrary, if not ironic, about me posting a  [long] opinion about the opinions of others on the Web. In the end I decided that this blog is not likely to attract the attention of too many trolls or Opionators and I would hope for appropriate constructive criticism, rather than the broiling flames of abuse.)
Because so many people so willingly, if not carelessly, share (should that be inflict?) their attitudes, opinions, insights and bias, especially in on-line forums,  I completely believe that I have a responsibility to not become one of those contributors. My opinions are no more significant than the next persons and certainly not important enough to inspire argument. Additionally, I pride myself on my willingness to be convinced by clear rational argument on key issues. For example, I used to be an advocate of capital punishment but my opinion was altered but some rational, insightful argument and I am now opposed. That doesn’t mean I have an obligation to try to persuade others and I certainly don’t want to argue with people who may have passionate, firmly held beliefs to the contrary. If I’m asked I’ll share my thoughts but I have no urge to impose my ideas on some online collective.
So, what has this got to do with Delicious?
As noted, I have been a web lurker for years, dipping my toes in hundreds of different informational ponds, and I have collected literally hundreds of bookmarks or favourites. Literally. At one point I printed my favourites list, because I wanted to start over and I didn’t want to lose the collection I had. And it printed as 36 pages of links!
So surely Delicious would be a treasure for hoarders of links like me?
Nope.  I don’t want to share. I’m not actually a social user of the Web. (Hmmm, the phrase ‘Does not play well with others’ comes to mind.) I don’t want others to criticise or comment on my choices. I don’t care to have my suggestions admired or belittled. I feel like a grumpy dragon guarding a hoard of glittering gems, willing to fry those pesky irritants who want to steal  my jewels. Much like my opinions online, I will share if people I know ask me for sources or directions but I have zero interest in telling the wider public. I don’t care for either the approbation or disapproval of strangers, Opinionators or trolls. I may take note of the sites marked by others but I would never comment, positively or negatively, on those posted.
Thinking about this may also explain why I have never put any photos on Flickr or equivalent services, despite having more than half a terabyte of the things scattered over half a dozen drives. It also explains why I dropped my involvement with Good reads, a site very similar to Library Thing, after listing a significant portion of the books I have read; within days I noted that reading reviews of books I liked frequently upset me because reviews often shredded books that were precious to me. Sure, you’re entitled to your opinion but I’m entitled to walk away  - and that’s what I find myself doing with most of these social sites. I’m told that it is quite common for people to present different personas online than who they really are; I may be one of those people in that I am relatively gregarious and friendly in reality but online I am secretive and insular.
I am aware Delicious is also presented as a way of storing or aggregating bookmarks, with the option for ones favourites to be kept private, not for public exposure. While that may suit some I am more confident in my computers, my backup regimes and my hardcopy records than I am confident that Delicious’ servers will be reliably working every time I need them. For that matter I don’t actually trust the company behind them to continue for as long as I may need them. It wouldn’t be the first time that a web service suddenly forces you to change your work patterns because they decide to modify, ‘improve’ or cancel something you have added into your online life – look how readily Google abandoned Wave.
I can see that Delicious has great potential as a collaborative tool but since I am not a collaborator by nature this is an aspect that I could use as a work asset but not as a private individual. I can see that tags are a more intuitive way of recording metadata but I tend to prefer a more formal structure. (Hah, I just got a visual of neat rows of sticks implanted into a muddy swamp.)
I love the sharing of information and knowledge that the Web encourages but I despair at being exposed to so many opinions, friendly or aggressive, supportive or hateful, balanced or extreme. It has been said that the Web gave everybody their very own soapbox but I would walk away from some random spouting their thoughts if I saw them in the park and I will click away from websites like Delicious.
I have written this to help me resolve my motivation issues, with some success. Will I actually post this on my blog, implicitly inviting criticism or will I hoard this as if it were another jewel? The library Web 2.0 blogs are (hopefully) a small enough, well-mannered enough audience that I may get away with it (and, hey, only one of my previous posts garnered any comments) and, in the end, a blog is supposed to be the 21C equivalent of a diary. I could always remove the post if I don’t like the reactions, or worry too much that I have offended someone, or change my attitude about opinions…

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Digital books are the future?

Some people may simply agree with this post's title without pause, others may be horrified at the idea but, in any case, it is a point worth discussing or libraries face missing the wave.
The article that made me consider this in more depth here:
http://feeds.paidcontent.org/~r/pcorg/~3/zCRaLaydHsI/

Amongst many interesting (but not personally verified yet) points is the question; "Did you know that the two most common ways people get books today is borrowing them from a friend or getting them from the library?" This is a US article but that idea certainly made me pause.
How may public libraries in WA offer books in digital form? We here at Gosnells have a small range of 'Playaways', which are,essentially, pre-packaged digital books but that seems half a solution, in my personal opinion.
I am sure I heard that there are libraries in Perth (or was it WA?) that can provide downloadable e-books but I'm not sure which libraries do, if any.
I appreciate that Amazon took forever to offer the Kindle in Australia but there are now a good number of e-book readers available and the iPad and a couple of the new tablet phones make fine readers themselves. If this is, as advertised, a burgeoning market, are we all prepared for it?
Personally, despite my tech-head leanings, I have never used an e-book but very recently a librarian friend of mine noted that his partner, who is also in the industry, recently said that she would now never consider giving up her Kindle to return to traditional paper-and-board books. Is that simply the first splash from an oncoming tsunami?

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

RSS and new sources

Firstly, I must confess to being absolutely insatiable when it comes to soaking up information; I can never spare enough time to find and absorb all the information I want. A major part of my misery is that I am interested in dozens, if not hundreds of topics, from cars (of course) to new technologies, from politics to economics, from marketing to trivia and comedy, from real estate to second-hand bargains. As an example of my info-addiction my list of Bookmarks in Chrome is over 300 web sites in 45 categories.
RSS feeds have been part of my info-diet for some time but my subscriptions are liable to change frequently and, as mentioned, some browsers handle RSS better than others. The Web 2.0 Training however led to the discovery that Google Reader is usable here at work, despite us being behind a notably fierce firewall. It's a bit curious, really, Google Reader will work but not Gmail. Don't get me wrong, though, I am not complaining.
As this assignment supposed to be a new thing I fired up Google Reader using the new Google ID I created, as opposed to my personal emails. Some time after firing up Reader, but before i subscribed to any specific feeds, I noticed an excellent, wide-ranging, nicely eclectic list of news items that I thoroughly enjoyed. As soon as I subscribed to a feed this pre-existing list disappeared, which made me a little sad.
I added my feeds (I've had the Unshelved one on my personal readers for years), including Autoblog and a couple of others but kept feeling disappointed that I had lost that original list.
After some time i thought I would try and work out precisely what that feed had been. I have to shamefully admit it took me some time but, eventually, I noticed two headings on the left - 'Recommended items' and 'Recommended sources'. It turned out that 'Recommended items' was that first list I had seen.
Over the last week, 'Recommended item's' has become one of my favourite sources, not least because it covers a broad range. Today it included a story that so intrigued me I added two new feeds because of it: KnowTheNetwork.com and LouiseGray.com. Both of these sites have some great insight into Web2.0 technologies and the article, 'Finding relevance with RSS' ,about Twitter, RSS and relevance, really appealed to me.