The map obsession continues

I’m still on my "space and place" kick, and probably will be for quite a while: it has all the signs of becoming a productive research obsession. Among the latest manifestations:

  • Someone recently drew my attention to Ecotone, a new literary journal out of the University of North Carolina. It deals with the concept of place, broadly defined, and publishes a mixture of fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, art, and (to my great delight) maps. Check out Aimee Bender’s "Three Maps" in issue 2.1. If something creative comes out of this research obsession, I now know where I’ll send it.
  • I’m hopefully going to be learning a bit more about GIS before long (I already picked up some very basic facility with GIS during my time at UVA). Data is (are?) so much more interesting when you visualize it/them geographically. But I’m also thinking about the ways maps might prove useful in the humanities as well as the social sciences.
  • My current train reading is Alice Oswald‘s poem Dart, an extended meditation on the river Dart (whence both Dartmoor and Dartmouth derive their names) in Devon. It grew out of a project in which she interviewed lots and lots of people who live and work along the river. You can find excerpts, a description of her research, and her sketch map of the Dart (with the locations of the poem’s speakers) at The Poetry Society. I may have more to say about this poem before long.
  • A couple of months ago I dreamed I was reading a book of poems, each of which was illustrated with a different close-up of a street map of London with a particular set of streets outlined in red. In the dream I understood that each poem somehow either referenced or replicated the section of London in its corresponding map. I also had an impression that the poems were by Marilyn Hacker, though as far as I know, she doesn’t write about London (though she does write about Paris and New York).

Not my finest hour.

So today I taught a library instruction session for a class. In a classroom whose technological setup I hadn’t checked in advance. (Those of you who do anything at all with instructional technology probably know where this is going.) And after I’d discovered that there was no computer in the room and raced back to the library to borrow a laptop so I could demonstrate various catalog and database searches, I found that the trackpad on the borrowed laptop wasn’t working as well as it could.

In the end, I borrowed a spare mouse from one of the students and went on with what I’d planned, while trying not to look like a complete techno-idiot. I hope the students got something out of it; things seemed to go better once the technological issues were cleared up, but said issues shouldn’t have eaten up classroom time to begin with. All of which was entirely my fault for not planning better, not
checking the configuration of the room, and not calling in the support
cavalry in advance.

The lesson to be learned here, obviously, is: Thou Shalt Check All Equipment Beforehand, Multiple Times If Possible. Also: Thou Shalt Try Not To Get Too Flustered When Things Go Wrong, Which, At Some Point, They Inevitably Will. I thought I knew both of those things, but perhaps there are some lessons you only learn through direct experience of screwing up embarrassingly in front of an audience.

At any rate, I decided I might as well post about it as a PSA to anyone who might benefit from the crucial life lessons I learned today. And now I’m off to drown the embarrassment in tapas and plan my next teaching session more foresightedly.

My people!

Monday night’s class was on classification systems, and at one point, we talked about the ubiquity of classifications, using grocery store aisles as an example. Specifically, what happens if the store owners decide to classify coffee filters as paper products and put them in Aisle 6 with the paper towels, but the caffeine-deprived shoppers expect to find them in with the coffee in Aisle 4. That made me grin all over my face, because I’ve always pondered the reasons for grocery store product classification. That was actually one of the things that made me start thinking about librarianship in the first place. And at another point the professor mentioned LibraryThing, and asked if anyone used it; four or five of us raised our hands. One of them I already knew about (hello, if you’re reading this!), but I was tickled to see other LibraryThingers amongst us.

I have found My People. It’s awesome.

I’m also blogging from the neighborhood coffee place (which has free wifi) on a shiny, shiny new laptop, and a friend is coming to visit this weekend, so life, while still busy, is really good.

Bookmarking

I’m at the bottom of a heap of coursework right now. Expect light blogging for the next couple of weeks (not that there’s been a torrent of posts around here lately to begin with). In the meantime, have a look at a few things I’ve just added to my del.icio.us bookmarks:

  • Great Moments in the History of Technical Services, including the life of St. Minutia, patron saint of catalogers. Warning: librarian humor. I had to forward this to several co-workers after they asked why I was laughing so hard. (Hat tip to Dorothea Salo, who bookmarked it first.)
  • Joss Whedon has a new show! I may have jumped up and down a little at that piece of news.
  • NaNoSweMo, the knitter’s
    answer to NaNoWriMo. I can’t write a novel right now, but the sweater
    project might actually be doable. (Hat tip to frizzyLogic.)
  • In honor of Halloween: this is probably not the best way to convince pranksters to leave your jack-o-lantern alone. Still, you kind of have to admire this person’s carving skill.

Personal anthology: Louise Chandler Moulton

If you’ve never heard of Louise Chandler Moulton, you’re not alone. She was a 19th-century American poet who held a salon and knew the Pre-Raphaelites. She’s all but unknown nowadays. But I encountered this poem of hers in a course on Victorian women writers, and I’ve never forgotten it:

Where the Night’s Pale Roses Blow

Ah, the place is wild and sweet
   Where my darling went —
If I chase her flying feet
   When the day is spent,
Shall I find her, as I go
Where the Night’s pale roses blow?

(from The Poems and Sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton, 1909)

Knitting, the cure for midterms

It’s midpoint in the quarter at Drexel. I’m just beginning to get freaked out over all the assignments that have to be turned in over the next couple of weeks. So, naturally, it’s time to obsess over future knitting projects!

Earlier this fall I decided that this year, I would manage to knit a sweater during cold-weather season. There followed much looking for patterns, much philosophical consideration of the merits of cardigans and pullovers, and much scouring the web for creative inspiration. Eventually I decided that the Next Big Project should be 1) fitted, not boxy; 2) not insanely complicated, but not plain-vanilla either; and 3) cabled, if at all possible. Eventually serendipity and Google (or possibly del.icio.us) led me to this very cool cable-edged sweater. I figure if I blog about it at the outset, I’ll be more likely to follow through and actually knit it. Now, to find the yarn.

Speaking of cables: I’ve been intermittently following the news about the (by all reports) depressingly altered film adaptation of Susan Cooper’s The Dark Is Rising. And amid remembering how much I loved that book when I was twelve, and shuddering at the thought the disappearance of so much of what I loved about it, it occurred to me that one could probably design a cable pattern to look like the six Signs (a circle quartered by a cross, repeated six times). Maybe when I’ve knitted enough sweaters to design my own patterns, I’ll try it. But only well after the movie buzz has faded into oblivion.

[Update: Woe! I went to my local knitting store and found a wonderful yarn (luxurious but not bank-breaking, subtly variegated, with a really lovely texture), in a color like winter twilight. Did they have any more of that color, I asked. They checked, and no: they only had four balls of it left, and a bit of web searching revealed that the yarn in question has been discontinued. I may just have go with brown or dark blue instead.]

Buffy the semantic AI network

[I’m using a vacation day to catch up on coursework and catch my breath. Hence the flurry of school-related posts this afternoon.]

In my Content Representation class this week, our professor touched on semantic networks, and the amount of knowledge that can be represented by linking a set of concepts and terms via specific types of relationships. She showed us an example from an artificial intelligence’s semantic network, with concepts linked and grouped together to form the base of the AI’s knowledge of the world.

Apparently one never stops being a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan, because I suddenly thought "Oh! Like the Buffybot!" (From the episode "Intervention" in Season 5; here’s a shorter summary.) I’m thinking specifically about the points at which the audience sees through the Buffybot’s eyes, a view that looks a bit like a computer screen with folders for various subroutines ("Slaying," "Locate Spike," "Make Spike Happy"). When she looks at Willow, she calls up a list of relevant information (as shown in the screenshot):

WILLOW
>BEST FRIEND
>GAY (1999-PRESENT)
>WITCH
>GOOD WITH COMPUTERS

…and uses that information to greet a confused Willow with "Willow! You’re my best friend! And you’re recently gay!" Evidently, Warren the soon-to-be villain programmed the Buffybot’s AI "brain" with a network of concepts like "friend," the names of specific people, and their various attributes.

I’d never given much thought to the semantic principles behind the Buffybot episode, but it makes kind of a nifty illustration, doesn’t it?

One of many reasons why I like my classmates

The scene: Monday evening. A lab classroom in Drexel’s Rush Building. The mid-class break is in progress. Three people on one side of the room are looking at something on the web and cracking up. A fourth (yours truly) is peering over their shoulders.

Classmate #4: Wait, is that the blog about quotation marks?
Classmate #1, still snickering: Yes. Hey, look at this: "Flan," anyone?
Classmate #2: Mmm, "flan." Tasty!
Classmate #4, pulling up the site in her browser: Snerk. "Massage"!

Then the break ended and we went back to learning how to do things with Photoshop. I’m still giggling at the "blog" of "unnecessary" quotation marks, though.

Operas on stage and screen

Detailed information about this year’s Met movie broadcast season is finally up. There are two venues in Philly, including one I can readily get to in University City. Whoopee!

Oh, and Rigoletto at the Academy of Music was great — they did an especially good job casting the three principals (Chen Reiss wowed us all as Gilda), and the production as a whole had a kind of tight, suspenseful energy to it, even for an audience knowing exactly how it turns out. It’s in some ways a really startling opera: as the program notes reminded us, the censors insisted on changing a fair number of plot points, but it still manages to be really scathing about the corrosive effects of unbridled power on everyone who comes into contact with it.

And speaking of stage and screen, I think I’ve settled on the Opera Person’s Movie Guide as my website design project topic. I’m now catching up on a few relevant DVDs; last night’s, in a neat transition from the sublime to the ridiculous, was the Marx Brothers’ A Night at the Opera. I suspect the sentence "You’ll never hear the Anvil Chorus from Il Trovatore quite the same way again" will find its way into my movie guide.

Why do I even still read the Chronicle’s career columns?

All I have to say about "Lagretta Gradgrind"’s column in the Chronicle of Higher Education on why she’s no longer advising graduate students is this: Thank God she wasn’t my adviser.

Some of the grad student behaviors she objects to are eminently objectionable. But what chaps my hide is that along with the dissertation-plagiarizers, sloppy researchers, litigious blackmailers and overfriendly boundary-lacking types, she lumps in students who change their minds about what they want out of life:

Another familiar type is the student who swears she wants a career
at a major research university where she can become a leader in the
discipline and where she, too, can work with graduate students. So you
throw yourself into guiding her, and she constantly enlists your help
in preparing for that career. … Then, out of the blue, she announces that she has accepted a
position at a nonresearch, nontenure institution, claiming she finally
realized that teaching meant more to her than anything else.

A variation of that type is the student who claims to want a plum
academic career but who, upon completing the Ph.D. and landing a
research position at a major institution, suddenly leaves the
profession, insisting that family considerations were paramount after
all.

Those unreliable, ungrateful career-changers! How dare they reevaluate their priorities? How dare they change during their grad-school years? How dare they have families in the first place? ("Dr. Gradgrind" notes at the outset: "Over the years, I have compromised my personal life and my research productivity to nurture and guide my many doctoral students." She seems to resent the idea that some of those students might choose not to compromise their own personal lives for the sake of an academic career.)

No, apparently, the only course of action is to stick to the plans you made when you were a brand-new graduate student and never deviate from them. All else is "the apparent deceit of would-be scholars enticing you to help them
become the field’s next superstar, only to discover that it was all
bluster and empty talk."

If "Dr. Gradgrind" had been my adviser, my leaving academia would have been a hell of a lot more traumatic than it was. If I’d thought my actual adviser would react to my change of heart by accusing me of "deceiving" him all along, the last semester or so would have been strained and miserable for all concerned. Fortunately, his first reaction to my decision was to tell me I should do what made me happy. To this day, I’m grateful to him for saying that.

"Dr. Gradgrind" apparently thinks that grad students who change their career goals do it on purpose to spite her and waste her time. She seems to forget that teaching is, most of the time, Not All About You, but about helping the student move toward the future, even if that future doesn’t replicate the adviser’s own career.

As the Little Professor puts it, "Has Prof. Gradgrind not heard of people changing their minds–or even, perhaps, becoming aware of their own limitations? And then there are those who become disillusioned…" As one of the disillusioned ones, I say: hear, hear.

[Edited to add: Much more good commentary at New Kid on the Hallway, who says it better than I can.]