Cut & Paste. Fold, Bend, Staple & Mutilate. February 28, 2011
Posted by Karen E. Lund in Language, Technology, Website.Tags: Language, Technology, Website, Word Games
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This past weekend I attended a reading of selections from William S. Burroughs Naked Lunch. I had not read the work before (it’s now on my TBR list), but I knew enough about the Beats to not be shocked by its strange, surreal and sometimes profane language.
In the discussion that followed the reading, someone mentioned there are now websites that will “translate” any text into Burroughs style and I have been eager to try them out. But first, a little background. Burroughs’ strange language is not merely the product of his mind, it is the product of his hands: after typing some of his text, he cut up the paper and rearranged the pieces, thus reordering the words and even inventing new words. That became the “final” version. This wasn’t Burroughs’ own invention (I learned that today by researching online), but he is the most widely-known practitioner of the technique. There’s a video of an interview with Burroughs that includes a short demonstration of the cut-up technique. You don’t need a demonstration, though; it’s easy enough to try it yourself with a printed text (that you’re willing to sacrifice for the sake of art) and scissors.
Or you can do it virtually using online tools. This is fun to play with. Open up a text file on your computer—the odder the better—and give it a try!
I started at The Lazarus Corporation, which has compiled several text-altering programs.
To begin, I ran a couple of paragraphs from a recent post through the Text Mixing Desk, which is most similar to Burroughs’ cut-up technique. Enter some text in the box, then scroll down to the filter options. “Cut-up Engine” is the Burroughs technique, so I used with that, but there are other options and you can even combine manipulations in a single go. Click “Process Signal Now.” The next screen asks you to choose a number of words per strip—basically how wide the cut paper would be. Then “Click Here to Finish.” This is what my first attempt produced (with some parentheses removed and capitalization tidied by me):
Read under the bedcovers with a not always straight; a b or couldn’t seem to soak it up fast the picture books and matched less than a b, the kind who to be asleep. it felt like there alphabet when I started myself to read. I’d memorized understood the words. I knew the remember, probably before I flashlight after I was supposed blame, of course. They read to enough.
My parents are to was so much to know and I kindergarten and then taught me at bedtime from before I can two might slip in, but nothing child–the kind who got as if I was a nerdy, bookish the words to the pictures.
Next I visited Language Is a Virus and spent some time playing with the Haiku-a-Tron. It’s totally random—no user input at all—so a lot of the results are nonsense. But after a few tries it offered me something vaguely evocative of a Beat poem:
strange lose angel
disappointed inhaling rhythms starbrite
hell jagged
At this point I should probably mention that if you’re at work it would be a good idea to bookmark a few things for later and get back to what you were doing…
Got time? The Non-linear Adding Machine asks for four text samples, then slices and dices them into nonsense. (Have we identified Col. Gaddafi’s speechwriter?) Or try the Shannonizer, which takes a chunk of text and “edits” it in the style of a famous author—you can choose from Dr. Seuss, Edgar Allan Poe, God or Miss Manners, among others. (Hint: Try editing the same text by choosing different authors and see what happens.)
Enough of this! I’m going to play with word games for a while… Do you have a favorite? Did I miss something? Leave a comment and help me waste, uh enjoy, even more time online.
When Calls to Action Fail February 24, 2011
Posted by Karen E. Lund in Fund-raising, Language, Non-Profit.Tags: #FAIL, Fund-raising, Language, Non-Profit
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It seems that every article I’ve read recently about social media engagement and non-profit management emphasizes the importance of a call to action. It’s not enough to tell your readers about yourself; you need to give them a push to follow it up with some kind of action. On that point I do not disagree. But these arbitrary deadlines remind me of infomercials and are at odds with the behavior I expect from respected non-profits. I’ve seen a few that, in my eyes, fail in a bit way: these arbitrary deadlines can make a casual reader think that donations are not needed after the deadline.
After spending the New Year’s weekend offline, I had a lot of catching up to do. Twitter and LinkedIn go on without me and some of my blogger friends didn’t take the weekend off.
As I was checking up on e-mail I noticed that December 30 and 31 had been especially busy. No, it wasn’t friends extending their wishes for 2011; it was various non-profit organizations shilling for year-end donations. In all I deleted 43 e-mail messages received in just those two days from various charitable organizations urging me to send them a donation before the December 31 “deadline.”
My question is, why the urgent deadline and what, exactly, is dead?
Here’s an example from a message I received:
This is the last chance for your donation to [Charity] to count for your 2010 tax deduction. And it’s the last chance to enter [Charity]‘s raffle.
Note the bold orange text: “This is the last chance for your donation…” Or what? The whales dies, the last tree is cut down, the orphans and refugees are left out in the cold? No, it’s just that the tax deduction for my contribution will be carried over to the next year—and I miss out on a raffle. That’s all, no big deal. But that bright orange text, the flood of messages, each more urgent than the one before… On December 31 some organizations push their pitch to an even greater urgency: “Only 12 hours to donate!” “Six hours left!”
Um, excuse me? You’re not going to accept my donation after midnight December 31?
Sometimes non-profits have legitimate deadlines, as when organizations ask us to e-mail our elected officials about pending legislation. That e-mail needs to be delivered before the scheduled vote. Or perhaps a foundation or a board member has offered to match donations up to a certain date. But most donations are welcome any time. If it matters to me that my donation will be tax-deductible, I probably know the deadline already—but that is the deadline for taking a tax deduction this year, not the deadline for sending a donation. After scanning 43 e-mail messages I came away with the sense that the message has gotten skewed.
Here’s my idea for a year-end call to action that won’t have donors scratching their heads, wondering if you organization will still be in business after January 1 and accepting donations:
Your donations to [charity] in 2010 have helped promote our important work and we look forward to we look forward to your continuing support in 2011. If you donate by December 31, your donation will be tax-deductible in 2010.
I’m all for calls to action. When you e-mail a donor, a customer, a client, a volunteer you want them to know the purpose of your message. You want them to respond. But you don’t want to scare them away or make them think that some fictitious deadline has passed and there’s no need to bother.
So here’s my call to action: This post is part of my series on how things sometimes fail (or #FAIL, as we say on Twitter) and how they can be put right again. What bad calls to action have you seen recently? Tell us about it in a comment. (There’s no deadline.)
Back to My Roots February 17, 2011
Posted by Karen E. Lund in Change, Internet, Learning, Technology.Tags: Change, Internet, Learning, Technology
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Trinity College Library by Nic McPhee
I was a nerdy, bookish child–the kind who got As (if not always straight As; a B or two might slip in, but nothing less than a B), the kind who read under the bedcovers with a flashlight after I was supposed to be asleep. It felt like there was so much to know and I couldn’t seem to soak it up fast enough.
My parents are to blame, of course. They read to me at bedtime from before I can remember, probably before I understood the words. I knew the alphabet when I started kindergarten and then taught myself to read. (I’d memorized the picture books and matched the words to the pictures.)
My Mom would take time to answer any question I asked, and if she didn’t know the answer (“Why is the sky blue?”) we’d go to the Funk & Wagnalls encyclopedia and try to find out. She was also fascinated by the space program which probably contributed to my curiosity. It didn’t really click until, nine years of age, I stayed up late to watch Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walk on the Moon.
Dad contributed. After he introduced my younger brother and me to baseball, he began to explain the statistics. Long before my class studied percentages I could calculate a batting average, won-lost average, or even an earned run average.
By the time somebody at school told me girls aren’t “supposed” to like math and science, I was getting As in both—and had seen men walk on the moon, seen Earthrise, and figured the earned run averages of every Mets pitcher.
It continued in college. I started as a chemistry major, realized my career as a research chemist wouldn’t go anywhere when I was always the first person to be sick or stoned in organic chemistry lab, and switched to an English major. Only people who didn’t know me thought this was odd.
So when I looked at suggested topics for this month’s Blogger Love project, “Back to School” jumped out at me. Except I have a suspicion I’ve never really left school. Left formal education, certainly. That drastic change of majors required and extra semester to earn my degree and by then I was ready to get out of the classroom and do something. But I wasn’t ready to stop learning.
I didn’t stop learning. Years later—last year, in fact—I combined that baseball stats/chemistry major geeky with the English major who enjoys reading and writing and started this blog. The name Circle of Ignorance came from a friend’s e-mail to me in which he wrote, “So we all have a circle of knowledge and on the circumference is our exposure to ignorance.” In my first post I wrote, “We not only learn things we didn’t know before, we learn of things we didn’t even know existed before. The more answers I get, the more new questions I discover.”
As a Baby Boomer I’ve witnessed amazing things in my life: men walking on the Moon; technology that used to be available only to large business becoming accessible to almost anyone (faster and better, as well as cheaper); the end of the Cold War and now maybe a democracy movement in the Middle East and North Africa. I’ve seen some bad stuff, too. But for the most part my first half century has been an exhilarating show.
I thought about this a bit last week, sitting in an auditorium before a Social Media Week event began. I had my laptop open, tapping into the venue’s wi-fi. Around me were people in their 20s and 30s with iPads and smart phones—and suddenly I had the feeling that my laptop was just a little behind the curve. Ah, but so far ahead of where technology was even a decade ago!
I remember the first time I saw the Internet. We’d gotten connected at work and I started up Netscape on my desktop computer. It was like I’d died and discovered heaven is a terrific library—and the Web wasn’t nearly what it is today. But I could get so much information, so quickly, without visiting a library or worrying that somebody else was using that book. (I don’t believe in an afterlife, but if there is one I hope it’s like Dublin—all the books in the gorgeous gallery of Trinity College library, infinite time to read, with pubs and tea shops a short walk away when I want a break from reading.)
So the bookish little girl I used to be has grown up to be an explorer and a blogger. Back to school? Nope—I never left!
