τεχνοσοφια

I am not certain if this is a good idea or not, but I decided to set up a "work blog" as I set off on my new path as a digital library architect. The lines between this blog and that blog are fuzzy — most lines are, in my eyes — so bear with me. I've never been a prolific writer — it's always a chore, an activity I simultaneously want to do more of, and do better, and also struggle mightily with. (It's the public school education? HAR HAR!) But even so, the posts here may slow yet more. Or maybe that will be true of the new blog. We shall see.

I've found that microblogging has largely filled the blogging gap for me; I'm more comfortable, somehow, posting smaller, more easily digestible "thoughtlets" via Twitter/identi.ca/Facebook. Perhaps I've succumbed to attention deficit disorder, flitting from one tiny undeveloped idea to the next. It's probable but I digress.

If you're interested, you can follow along as I grapple with questions about digital library architecture. Comments are most welcome, both here and there, as always.

Has it really been two months? Why, yes, it has. Oh me, oh my. I have tried to stick somewhat loosely to a schedule of writing here once a month[1], but alas, April came and went and I simply made no time to write.

That's not entirely true; I did plenty of writing:

I wrote code. After a year of working on the World Digital Library project at $MPOW, we went live on April 21st. The last few weeks were very busy for the development team, but I did find a few moments to breathe and blink.

I wrote microblog updates. After months of trying to figure out what microblogging is all about[2], it found its way into my daily routine. When time is short or thoughts arise fast and fuzzy, microblogging is a useful public scratchpad.

I wrote slides. The kind folks over at the College and University Section of the New Jersey Library Association invited me to be a panelist at the 2009 NJLA conference. The panel addressed recentish developments in open source integrated library systems. I spoke about the Evergreen ILS[3] and my co-panelists spoke about Koha and the Open Library Environment Project.

And, ever the dutiful technologist, I wrote documentation. And that will be the subject of my next post.

Notes

1. Here I extend my hand and then imagine you, whomever you may be, smacking it ever so gently [↩]
2. Wondered: Is it IM? Status updates? Blogging? And how is it related to these? Concluded: it's a little of each, and somehow it fits my status/vanity/sharing needs perfectly. [↩]
3. Hat tip to Equinox Software Inc.'s Karen G. Schneider for her kind assistance. [↩]

I confess: prior to today, I had never heard of Ada Lovelace. A number of bloggers whom I follow wrote about Ms. Lovelace today, which is apparently Ada Lovelace Day: "an international day of blogging to draw attention to women excelling in technology."

Inspired by their words, I thought I would say my piece as well. And so, this being the first Ada Lovelace Day, I'd like to celebrate the woman who is most responsible for my own love of libraries[1] and technology: my mother, Diane. My mother is neither a technologist nor a mathematician, and I'm pretty sure she's not comfortable in front of a Python interpreter. She was an employee at Rutgers University's Alexander Library during their first automation efforts in the '70s, partly while I was in utero. I like to think that library automation entered my bloodstream through osmosis back in 1973 and I've been working at this, well, not quite since then, but long enough. More than that, she got me hooked on libraries many years ago through frequent trips to neighborhood libraries and also by including me, in snot-nosed kid form, in her genealogical research that took us to some rural Maryland libraries and, yes, the Library of Congress. This thirst for knowledge (not to mention her constant and unwavering support for me despite the wacky paths I've chosen over the years) is why I celebrate my mother today.

Notes

1. I realize Ada Lovelace Day is about technology, not about libraries, but I hope you'll give me some slack. [↩]

Former colleague Trevor Dawes has written a thorough piece about a name change proposed by the faculty of Rutgers' School of Communication, Information and Library Studies (SCILS). They have voted on and approved a new name, School of Communication and Information, and it is now awaiting approval from the Board of Governors.

Trevor received e-mail from a current SCILS faculty member after getting involved in a discussion of the name change on a listserv. I find part of that e-mail[1], specifically the rationale for the name change, absolutely puzzling:

We just have so many programs now — we can't possibly cover all of them in our school's name. School of Communication and Information is something of a compromise name, but it does encompass all our departments and programs in the school.

So in order to cover more programs, the name of the school ought to communicate less? Does dropping "Library Studies" somehow represent Journalism, Media Studies, and Informatics students more?

I fail to see how removing "Library Studies" makes the name of the school more meaningful. Why not follow this rationale to its logical conclusion, then, and shorten the name to School of Information? Or iSchool? Or how about "School?" Yes, that's it, "School!" Then all the departments and programs are equally well-represented. Huzzah, faculty!

I should be clear about my objection. I don't mind SCILS becoming an iSchool. In fact, I think my education there could have benefited from a more iSchoolish curriculum. But any problems with the school then were not related to the name, and I doubt they are now. What I object to is the oddball rationale for the name change, and the notion that in order to affect change and improve the school, well, clearly a change in name will do the trick! It's putting the cart before the horse, especially when the MLIS program lacks a core curriculum[2]. This is change in name only and that is perhaps a missed opportunity.

Notes

1. Taken out of context, true. [↩]
2. An opportunity for real change, though I will admit that there are good arguments against having one. [↩]

Lack of Talent, its hour come round at last, slouches towards podcastdom to be born.

It's late and I'm tired, so here's the skinny: at the beginning of the year I ambitiously[1] resolved to record one song per month. Instead I've serendipitously turned up the LOT recording sessions from July 2005, which we call the Burlap Overseas, and which I never really went through. Now that stuff is backed up six ways from Sunday[2] and I owe it to my fellow Lack of Talenteers to go through all these hours of raw audio and pick out some interesting bits so we have something to build on the next time we get together[3].

If you're interested, feel free to subscribe to the podcast and listen along. Updates will be sporadic, perhaps even spasmodic or spastic. Now the disclaimers: you should know that LOT was never about songs or practice or technique or order or music, really; we are true to our name[4]; it's about some friends gathering in my grandparents' basement with lots of music gear[5], even more alcohol, a box fan to keep us cool, a washing machine to clean Gramma's clothes, and a microphone that runs the whole darned time. This is booze-soaked sonic experimentation among close friends and even if you hear nothing else, you should hear hints (or squeals, or yawps) of joy amidst the cacophony.

Notes

1. Read: foolishly [↩]
2. Phew. I am a paranoid backup freak. [↩]
3. Est. 2013 [↩]
4. At least I am [↩]
5. We switched instruments often, sometimes even playing the ones we could "play." [↩]