Social_Software: August 2008 Archive Page

The possibilities make the mind reel.

YouTube Comment Snob is a Firefox extension that filters out undesirable comments from YouTube comment threads. You can choose to have any of the following rules mark a comment for removal:

• More than # spelling mistakes: The number of mistakes is customizable, and the extension uses Firefox's built-in spell checker.
• All capital letters
• No capital letters
• Doesn't start with a capital letter
• Excessive punctuation (!!!! ????)
• Excessive capitalization
• Profanity

My colleague Lee McClain passed this article on to me -- via a post-it note attached to the dead-tree edition of the story.

"Move over, mainstream media, it's the voter's turn," says the blurb for an event called: "Tapping the Creative Community: The Power of Voter Generated Media."

To be sure, there are television satellite trucks parked in the parking lots around the Pepsi Center, blow-dried anchormen speaking earnestly into cameras and dignified, old hands like Bob Schieffer of CBS roaming about the hall.

But in the media security lines snaking outside the convention venue, the faces are mostly young, the equipment mostly laptops, and the credentials for Web sites you may have never heard of. --Mackenzie Carpenter, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

I'm preparing to introduce a class of English majors to Blender3D. Many of the online tutorials I've found spend way too much time introducing the interface, which is of course worth some attention because it is non-standard, and in the days before YouTube, I remember being so confused by it that I gave up on Blender, only to come back again later when I found James Chronister's awesome tutorial (sadly a little out-of-date now). At any rate, this video crash course does a good job.

Mike Arnzen writes about the thinking behind his decision to revise his syllabus to include a statement on the use of electronic devices in class.

In some ways, there's no difference between a student texting and a student flipping through a magazine in the back row of a class, but there are times when we use technology to multitask and this is where the issue gets thorny and complex. What if we're discussing Foucault's "Panopticism" in the classroom and a student wants to quickly do some web research on a referenced person in the article, like Jeremy Bentham? I wouldn't want to ban such ambitious impulses to learn more, so long as it pertained to the subject at hand or contributed to the collaborative learning of the class.

What I'm really concerned about is multitasking that puts personal interest above the class interest, and the fetishism of technology that reinforces gizmo play for its own sake. My hope is that I can help students consciously rethink their gizmos as tools for learning and research and communication, and to respect the social space and dynamic of the classroom.

Mike does a great job putting forth the thinking behind his new policy, which carefully instructs the students with examples of what counts as an actionable offense. My own syllabus, rather than listing sample infractions, refers more generally to common sense and common courtesy.

I've considered having students in each class come up with their own policy on the use of electronic devices, since, for instance, students in "New Media Projects" will be sitting at machines programming in Flash or working on 3D animations, and I hope the in-class activity will be challenging enough that they'll want to spend class time on the course material. But in that class I'll be asking them to follow online tutorials, and to use the online user forums and tutorials (as well as my personal feedback) to find answers to their technical problems, so I would expect them to be online.

Our dependence on electronic gadgets -- hand-held yesterday, ear-mounted today, cranially implanted tomorrow -- makes classroom manners a moving target.  Manners depend on perception and context.  Several years ago, when I was experimenting with using a PDA to do all my in-class housekeeping (such as taking notes on class participation and oral presentations), a student was offended because, as he saw it, I was playing with my gadget instead of paying attention.  And once during an inspiring faculty workshop, I was pouring out my brainstorming into a word processor file, when the leader interrupted her presentation to ask, "Could the typing please stop?"  Whenever my preferred method of staying on task is perceived as rude, it stings a little.  But manners are socially constructed tools, and manners differ as contexts differ.  At academic conferences, I regularly see more than half the audience tapping or thumbing away; yet when a rising freshman asks, during a summer orientation, "Should I bring my laptop to class?", I reply that each professor's preference will vary. The student using technology during class may, of course, simply be wasting time. But as long as the technology does not disrupt anyone else, I tend to give the student the benefit of the doubt.

It's downright rude when students entertain themselves instead of listening to their peers reciting their work, and really it's no different if they choose to ignore me when I introduce a new concept or the next assignment. I try to work around this by promising that I'll give students some in-class writing time in the last 15 or so minutes, but that for now they need to pay attention to this next topic. (Is that bargaining? Conceding too much power over how to spend our limited time together? Are my expectations too low?) 

Somewhere I heard of a professor whose policy is that if a phone goes off in class, he will answer it. I can't imagine myself doing that. Not only am I concerned about appearing to be heavy-handed, and I'm also not sure that I need a separate policy for technological distractions.  Do we have or need to articulate a policy to deal with the student who sits, with arms folded, refusing to take notes (ever!) ?

Many years ago (not at SHU) in a technical writing class, a student who sat in about the second row often fell asleep leaning her head against the wall.  I had the fleeting thought that I should pretend to fall asleep during her final report, but rejected the idea. (Yes, she would have remembered the event, but for all I know she had narcolepsy, was up all night working a night-shift job to pay for her education, etc. etc.)  Instead I just spent more time right in front of her row, more time making eye contact with her.  She was actually a very good writer who made substantial, lasting contributions to the class. I'm not sure that shaming her in class would have helped. (Had she started to snore soporifically, so that other students also dropped off one by one, that would have been different.)

Another time, at the same school, I taught a class with a student who kept her chair aligned so that she was directly behind another student, no matter where I was in the room. She frequently talked with that student during class at inappropriate times, and when I looked up, I'd see the student in front whispering a reply, so I always assumed that the visible student was the troublemaker.  One day the fall guy was absent, so the ventriloquist sat in another chair so that she could pull the same routine on someone else.  At the end of the year, when I didn't give the ventriloquist her full marks for class participation, she argued with me on the grounds that she never missed a class. 

Such cases of deliberate, immature, low-tech rudeness are rare, but the common technological infractions are often the result of simple carelessness. It's happened more than once that a student who was in the front of the room had to interrupt her own presentation, walk back to her desk, get her bleeping phone out of her purse, and shut it off.  If I taught lectures with 100 students, where phones rang several times during each class period and the offenders were always anonymous, I might get more upset about the use of electronic gadgets. But so far, I find that the self-moderating social system functions fairly well, and what goes around comes around.

Facebook's advertisers in ur feed, annoying ur friends. (Wired)

Undeterred by the setbacks with its Beacon platform last year, Facebook is rolling out more advertising that uses your friends to sell you stuff.

Josh suggest this story. Experimental software now under development can automatically swap eyes and facial expressions from one face to another, and the software is being tested as a way to anonymize faces that appear in Google Maps.  This story is about more personal, more targeted, use of image-processing software. (NYT)

Ellen Robinson, a volunteer college trustee in Denver, commissioned Sara Frances, a local photographer, to shoot a formal family portrait to hang prominently in their new house. Working for $150 an hour, Ms. Frances changed expressions of family members and swapped the dog's head between images. She slenderized bodies, adjusted skin tones and changed the color of several outfits to make for a more unified palette. She even straightened the collar on one son's shirt.

"You're spending a lot of money on these portraits," Ms. Robinson said. "They're supposed to last a lifetime -- generations, really. So why not get a helping hand to do it right?"

Photography has always represented, to some degree, a distortion of reality, said Per Gylfe, the manager of the digital media lab at the International Center of Photography in New York. A photographer can create different impressions of the same scene by including some elements in the frame and omitting others, by changing lenses, or by tweaking the color and tone of the image in the darkroom.

"We've always taken photographs as proofs of events, and we probably never should have," Mr. Gylfe said.

A thirteen-year-old girl posing as a record executive on MySpace has lured several bands to Los Angeles with promises of a record contract. -- BBspot

The concept is good, but the writing doesn't sustain the joke. The reason The Onion is so good is that the articles not only make the joke, but they do it completely within the form of good journalism. 

A good journalist would know that the (fake) news is that a Fonix Cat bassist has accused a teen of luring the band to Los Angeles; or, that the teen was charged with a fraud or kidnapping.  Instead, the article just states that the teen did it.  There are no quotes from imaginary police officers, no indication of what charges have been filed, and no statement from the defendant's laywer.

It's that kind of attention to detail that makes me print out an Onion article and hang it on my office door.

David Brooks, NYT:

Today, Kindle can change the world, but nobody expects much from a mere novel. The brain overshadows the mind. Design overshadows art.

This transition has produced some new status rules. In the first place, prestige has shifted from the producer of art to the aggregator and the appraiser. Inventors, artists and writers come and go, but buzz is forever. Maximum status goes to the Gladwellian heroes who occupy the convergence points of the Internet infosystem -- Web sites like Pitchfork for music, Gizmodo for gadgets, Bookforum for ideas, etc.

These tastemakers surf the obscure niches of the culture market bringing back fashion-forward nuggets of coolness for their throngs of grateful disciples.

Second, in order to cement your status in the cultural elite, you want to be already sick of everything no one else has even heard of.

Chris Brogan just posted a horror story that made me make backups of everything I've ever uploaded to Google Docs. Note to self: use Google Apps as a redundant backup only.

Monday afternoon, after lunch, Nick came back from lunch to find out that he couldn't get into his Gmail account. Further, he couldn't get into anything that Google made (beside search) where his account credentials once worked. When attempting to log in, Nick got a single line message:

Sorry, your account has been disabled. [?]

That's it.

Nick sent a message or three to Google for support. He got back this:

Thank you for your report. We've completed our investigation. Because our
investigation was inconclusive, we are unable to return your account at
this time. At Google we take the privacy and security of our users very
seriously. For this reason, we're unable to reveal any further information
about this account.

And that's it.

That's not quite it... apparently Nick had paid for the corporate version of Google Apps, and therefore had access to technical support with a human being, who was able to resolve the problem. But the rest of us don't have that option.

McSweeney's:

Horatio thinks he saw a ghost.

Hamlet thinks it's annoying when your uncle marries your mother right after your dad dies.

The king thinks Hamlet's annoying.

Laertes thinks Ophelia can do better.

Hamlet's father is now a zombie.

Thanks for the suggestion, Mike. (Twitter would probably catch the back-and-forth spirit of a drama a little better.)