Craftster.org: The Ultimate Social Software

After reading Clay Shirky's analysis of social software, I started thinking about the social software that I most frequently use (outside of AIM)--craftster.org

Craftster.org is a rather primitive moderated discussion board on crafts and crafting. Moderators, appointed by the creator of the site named Leah, keep posts on-topic and appropriate within different subgroups of the site. You can gain membership by filling out a free application form to get a username and password. Your membership keeps track of messages, replies made to your posts, and new posts that you haven't seen. When a member posts, their username, user icon, number of posts, the date they became a member on the forum, and links to other social software they use (IM, e-mail, etc.). You can also donate money to craftster.org to become a "Friend of Craftster," which comes without extra privledge but their "friend status" is part of their public profile and user info shown on their posts.

Members and official moderators work together to moderate the forum. Members or moderators notice off-topic posts, which are then directed to the appropriate location or pushed to the bottom of the discussion board. The most relevant posts (posts that are most frequently viewed) are kept at the top of each subcategory.

A lot of people on the forum lurk before officially joining the forum. Most only join after completing a new craft that they want to share with the forum. There is no benefit to joining the forum and officially participating in the discussion, rather than lurking, if you have no project to share. People often describe feeling anxious about posting their work because of the quality of the work generally displayed on the forum. Some members on the forum has better reputations for their crafts. These people have generally started a topic or post that always remains the most popular topic (or in the top 10) for a while. One member, Jordy, created a pattern for a DIY bag that has remained the most popular subtopic in the "Purses, Wallets, and Bags" category. The "Jordy Bag" is now infamous with the crowd.

But although I've participated in the forum for three or so years, I've never thought about any of this. My almost daily use doesn't prompt these questions of usability and effectiveness of communication and community. Rather, I become ecstatic when the site now hosts pictures to make posting with pictures (the only effective form of communication for us) easier. Why don't I think critically about the relationship I have with craftster.org? Is it laziness? Or is it just me?

Ah, I do love dry humor.

Doc Searls and David Weinberger's text was poignant--and a little funny, too.

Google, The Tamer

The NY Times is giving Google a lot of credit. Is it deserved?

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/20/business/yourmoney/20digi.html

Napster's Solution is Wackster

The NY Times ran an article about Napster, copyright law, and the internet. Seems to follow our latest discussions.

I like the positive spin... Do I believe its really as utopian as it describes? Not really. I think Lessig describes how "wins" such as these aren't attacking the structural problems in our copyright laws in his book, Free Culture.

Here's the article:
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/20/business/yourmoney/20fanning.html

The Thing About Fiction

After experiencing Manovich's hypertext experiment yesterday, I felt a little annoyed. Creating a database of information to create computer-generated fiction is a feat, no doubt. But is it fiction?

I watched an episode of the Family Guy a month or so ago where Stewie makes fun of Brian for Brian's lack of progress on his great American novel. Stewie makes an awkward speech describing the traditional elements of novels:

"How you uh, how you comin' on that novel you're working on? Huh? Gotta a big, uh, big stack of papers there? Gotta, gotta nice litte story you're working on there? Your big novel you've been working on for 3 years? Huh? Gotta, gotta compelling protaganist? Yeah? Gotta obstacle for him to overcome? Huh? Gotta story brewing there? Working on, working on that for quite some time? Huh? (voice getting higher pitched) Yea, talking about that 3 years ago. Been working on that the whole time? Nice little narrative? Beginning, middle, and end? Some friends become enemies, some enemies become friends? At the end your main character is richer from the experience? Yeah? Yeah? (voice returns to normal) No, no, you deserve some time off."

As this is describing a specific type of literature/fiction, I know it's slightly different than Manovich's database, but bear with me.

First, let me work something out--Manovich's narrative, the words of the story, were composed by a human brain. It was then divided up and put into a database, with sounds and image clips, that randomly regenerates the story.

When I think of fiction, I think of communicating a universal human experience, something I believe the most effective forms of fiction communicate. In other words, I believe the human definition of fiction (the ways we define fiction based on experience rather than Webster's) is characterized by connecting to humanity. The database, having a linear narrative created by a human, can sort of achieve this. But, by making aware its computer counterpart, I was unable to think of the fiction as human. It was something else entirely.

What if I hadn't known the images and sections of the narrative were randomly generated by a computer database? I might have connected to it, for sure. But I think my connection to the narrative itself (which, as I said before, was written by a person) was inspired more by human participation than the computer's.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that this project would not exist without the extreme effort, intelligence, creativity, and organization of humans. To me, this means this experiment (trying to create computer-generated narrative that can pass as human-narrative) is incomplete and ineffective. But maybe that's just me.

Bolter, Part Deux

I'm still thinking about Bolter's explanation of the digital experience.

When I've looked at hypertext so far in our class, I've walked away with a fragmented, almost schitzophrenic feeling. I can't find any conclusive argument or statement, no linear pattern, and no linear point. Basically, I'm totally confused. I walk away frustrated with a bitter taste in my mouth.

But I LOVE hypertext. I'm a web designer--if not for Dreamweaver's "Insert Hyperlink" command, I'm not sure any of the webpages I've created would have been at all useful. So what's my deal with academic hypertext?

Then I remember the Buddhist Philosophy course I took two years ago. The professor was trying to explain a theory of emptiness, but I wasn't following. I wasn't struggling so much over the translation difficulties (the concept necessitated words with no English equivalents, lending to abstract metaphors rather than concrete definitions), but over the argument's circular structure. I never understood it, but my confusion helped articulate the commitment and struggle of the Buddhist student.

Are we living in a linear or a non-linear world? My instinct is to say, "Non-linear, of course. Everything is affected and affects its context, environment, experience, and relationships." Fair enough. But am I living in a world of linear arguments? My education is presented, from K through college, as a series of usually related linear arguments and messages. But if we're living in a non-linear society/sphere, is my real education (my ability to think, process, and understand) obsolete? Is linearity a Western or American phenomenon? Or is linear thinking is more globally pedestrian than I originally thought?

Or perhaps I'm categorizing or reducing my education. Maybe it's just me.

Bolter's Disconnect

After reading and discussing Bolter's text, I started identifying with his notions on the experience of the analog versus the digital, although with a different opinion.

I think I tried to verbalize this in sixth grade. AOL, specifically its Instant Messenger service, has hit Kennedy Junior High School like a ton of bricks. Anybody who was anybody could quickly translate LOL, ROFL, BRB, and IM me.

I was boyfriend/girlfriend (that's what we called it) with a fellow twelve-year-old, John Paul Mungo. Our extended relationship consisted of lengthy phone or IM conversations. As phones were a limited resource, much of our pre-teen romance was conducted in IM-speak.

We would get into fights and spats, he and I, on this IM medium. My humor has been naturally dry and sarcastic since birth. But tones that explain my words as dry humor, rather than, say, meanness, were lacking in the IM world. IM's replacement for intonation, overall tone, and auditory semiotic signals were its primitive " :) " that have been taken over by gaudy cartoons.

I was also active on a primitive MUDD environment and tried to utilize its solution for the disconnect between internet and physical chat (accompanying conversations with descriptions of how things were to have been said enclosed in double colons-- ::dryly::) in my IM conversations. But who wants to narrate a conversation into a nearly novel-length text when no one will read it again?

One day, I said something dryly that was misconstrued as mean. Before our IM conversation ended, I tried to explain how emotions can't be communicated over IM. The next say in Junior High, neither one of us wanted to approach the other, partly because it was a difficult situation in our young lives and partly because we were embarrassed that an IM conversation affected us so much.

Our argument was really a miscommunication. But I'm not sure we ever spoke again.

Bolter seemed to write positively about the digital experience. And though my intimate relationship with the internet is nearly eleven years strong, I do remember how limited I felt and how the internet's flaws can feel so prominent.

But hey, maybe that's just me.

(Vannevar) Bush’s America

I absolutely adored Bush’s early article on the future of information systems. His “memex” seemed like a Rube Goldberg machine, oddly elaborate to the point of becoming comical. But, at its core, Bush’s early ideas expose American preferences for the individual, our centrism, and our willingness to ignore issues of accessibility for the general public.

Individual understanding rather than communal knowledge is found in Bush’s need for organized information systems. He finds it atrocious that American development, specifically scientific and technological development, is slowed down by an inability to read all information in a given field. He finds it necessary that each scientist or developer have constant access to specific bits of information, catalogued for easy access. However, Bush’s need is for the individual to have access to any and all information, rather than a group of scientists or all those in a field of study. His memex is completely stationary, meaning his information system wasn’t meant to transmit information among parties, opening a line for communication and communal thought. If a scientist stocked his memex, thinking he had all the information there was to have, would he stop looking? How often would he look for new information from other related research? Would his thoughts be limited by the amount of information contained in his memex? Might a group of brains, with a breadth of perspectives, be more helpful and more valuable?

The physical limitations of the memex also display an acceptance of centralized information systems. The scientist, tied to his memex, cannot leave a local area if he wishes to access the information in his memex. As Ong and others have discussed, a tool like a memex might make the brain lazy, not needing to remember information since it can be easily recalled. But what if learning takes place away from the bulky memex? Will the scientist be able to process this data without his memex? Should our learning be centralized, in both ways of thinking (Bush believes the memex will store traditional academic information, like books or photographs, limiting the type of information) and where we can think and process it?

And will these expensive and bulky systems be made accessible to the general public? The information, still fastened to the literary world, cannot be understood by illiterate populations in need of knowledge. The memex itself was described as expensive and personal, meaning someone was to own a memex and have the leisure time to collect and store its data. Would a memex be functional in a public library? Is it fair to provide information systems to the elite and educated while ignoring those whose thirst for knowledge remains unquenched?

But while I may “tsk” at Bush’s memex, I understand that our internet, our solution for the information system, is nowhere near perfect. Truly, many of these same problems can be found in our modern day solution to information organization. Will students someday cringe at our binary codes, thinking it to be a little funny and misguided?

For now, I love my Google. But maybe it’s just me.