Anonymity in the blogosphere

Contrary to what some have stated, I believe that anonymity and pseudonymity do not automatically negate an opinion. Granted, you might not know the background or the biases of whoever expresses such opinions, but the validity of their claims should become clearer through further discourse. If someone has compelling or interesting arguments, the discussion should focus on those, rather than on the “personalities” involved.

I’m not sure where I would fall on this spectrum, but I consider myself a semi-pseudonymous blogger. I have a semi-catchy title, as well as the not-so-catchy name. That was a deliberate move on my part. Others have taken all the “cool,” “hip,” and “edgy” names, so it behooved me to use something rather dull as a way to distinguish myself. Nevertheless, clues about my identity remain sprinkled throughout my blog, so anyone who really cares can figure it out. Still, for reasons I outline in an earlier posting, this seems like the best approach for my purposes.

Of late, I have determined that the Annoyed Librarian (AL) is a perfect example of a high-quality blogger who remains pseudonymous (not anonymous). In John Berry’s blog, she has been lumped into one side of a dualistic Weltanschauung. Closer readings of her postings indicate that she gives a great deal of thought to various issues. I may personally disagree with some of AL’s opinions, but they also make me consider more carefully what I believe. Therefore, it seems unfair to dismiss her as “cowardly,” just because she posts pseudonymously. In fact, considering some of the unfair comments made in the aforementioned posting from Berry’s blog (such as #8), it seems little wonder that AL remains pseudonymous.

Unfortunately, some people abuse anonymity/pseudonymity. As many of us already know, Kathy Sierra has received a series of anonymous threats that have forced her to cancel speaking engagements, and to stay confined to her house. Considering the disturbing nature of the postings left by the person(s) making the threats, I hope that someone can bring the offender(s) to justice.

Since anonymous postings can range from the Annoyed Librarian’s carefully-considered opinions to the disturbing threats made by an unidentified coward against another blogger, it seems unfair to look upon all anonymous/pseudonymous comments and postings as beneath contempt. If an anonymous person makes a coherent or nuanced argument for or against something, it seems worthy of response from interested parties… especially if that person wishes to continue the discussion in the same spirit of civility, collegiality, and (one hopes) wit. On the other hand, I can certainly understand a lack of response to trite comments, regardless of the person’s anonymity (or lack thereof). As for making threats, it has no place in any venue, and certainly does not fall under free speech. Whatever side of the various Libraryland debates you’re on, I think we can all agree that immediate action needs to be taken against such thugs.

Challenging patrons

Since I work in a science and technology branch library at a university, I rarely have so-called challenging patrons. With faculty and students constituting the majority of patrons, few from beyond the university community visit the library. Occasionally, we do have to stand firm with students who want to re-borrow a reserve item or a laptop immediately after returning them. This is to give other students have a chance to use them. However, students may borrow a different laptop if we happen to have one available.

Although my branch has few problems, the main library has had more incidents than usual of late. I don’t know the exact nature or number of them, but a campus police officer has offered to speak with library staff about handling situations that could require police intervention. I do know that in years past, the main library had a “regular” non-affiliated user who ended up banned from campus, as well as a group that visited a computer pod far away from the reference desk.

I normally do not talk about my place of employment, nor do I mention interactions with patrons. However, I recently discovered a blog that makes me think of how lucky I am to deal with relatively minor problems (so far, anyway). “Woeful,” who works in a large city public library, recounts incidents involving a motley assortment of patrons. His accounts bring back memories of my pre-library school days, when I lived with my parents and worked at a public library in a rural community of 8,000 people. We did have an interesting variety of patrons who visited the library, but nothing nearly as malevolent as the characters Woeful describes.

The first memorable patron I remember was a young man who had a fascination with serial killers and horror movies. Sometime during my first few days on the job, he asked me to photocopy pictures of John Wayne Gacy from a book. As I got to know him, he did not seem quite as spooky, and he was even kind enough to bring in his pet baby alligator, whom he named Elvis. (Some of the staff did make some macabre jokes connecting his interests and his pet, however.) We also had a regular with an interest in the power of pyramids, as well as an elderly couple who would go to separate parts of the library. She would go to the magazine section, while he would sign up to use a computer, then kibitz at the desk afterwards until his wife emerged from the magazine section; some staff had reason to believe that he looked at porn, but I never knew for sure if he did.

Fortunately, none of the aforementioned people got belligerent. We did have a few who would just shoot their vitriol, then disappear into relative obscurity. Perhaps the most regular belligerent patron was the daughter of a retired county official, who could turn a $1.00 fine into a Wagnerian epic. We also had the usual bratty adolescents; in reality, only a few somehow managed to make them all look bad. During an evening when I worked, someone even reported that a patron had urinated in the fiction section. (I prefer to remain ignorant of what might have happened in the nearby public restrooms.)

From the three years I worked at that library, one patron remains the most memorable. “GM” was around average height and a little rotund around the belly, with curly blond hair, a beard, and tinted glasses. As much as I hate to say it, he also had that infamous “spoiled milk” odor. I heard that he was involved in an automobile accident and sustained brain damage, which may have accounted for his socially awkward behavior and mannerisms.

I actually had my first encounter with him a few years before starting work at the library. When I worked at McDonald’s during summers home from college, GM would stop by in the morning for his daily caffeine fix. “Small coffee. Two cream, two sugars,” he would say. Whoever happened to help him would add the condiments for him. As I handed him his cup of coffee during one transaction, he said to me, “I’ll break you in yet,” before perambulating to a table. A little creepy-sounding, but I assumed that he referred to memorizing his coffee preferences.

My next dealings with him occurred when I started at the library. GM would usually come by to read newspapers or magazines. I don’t remember any incidents from the earlier portion of my time there, but his odor posed the only real challenge to us. He also gave the staff pet names. I was “Doc,” probably because I bore some archetypal resemblance to a doctor, with my glasses and propensity towards wearing sport coats and ties. (Another patron would call me “Preacher” for that very reason.) At least two women who worked at the library received the moniker “Blondie,” for obvious reasons.

That all changed when we finally got Internet access.

With only four computers providing access to the Internet, we had a system where people needed to sign up to use them. We also had a strict policy about looking at “objectionable materials.” Five strikes, and they were out. Or, in non-baseball vernacular, they had four warnings with increasing levels of banishment from using the Internet at the library. After being caught for the fifth time, the library would banish them permanently from using the computers. (We actually had OPACs on separate computers, which ran on Dynix.)

Although GM would search for relatively innocuous fare like “blonde jokes” (an endeavor for which he would occasionally seek assistance), he managed to work himself up to level five within a little over a year. At each level, he would try to argue his way out of the relevant sanction. Sometimes, he would come back later to discuss the issue with someone in charge. If I was at the desk, he would holler at me from the stairwell, “Heyyyyyy, Doc? Where’s [name of manager]?” We would usually get the circulation manager, or the reference desk manager, or the head of the library, whoever happened to be available at the time. They would get in a back-and-forth debate about library policy and freedom of speech, which would go nowhere because GM would always come back… maybe not the next day, but maybe within a week or a month. Eventually, these confrontations took on the aura of a kind of Kabuki play. The dialogue would change somewhat, but GM would always manage to ask his stock question, “Why that obscene?” During one such discussion, the circulation manager responded, “GM! She had her legs spread in the air!”

A few weeks before starting library school, I left my job at the library. This meant a fresh opportunity to work towards a career in librarianship, as well as a chance to live on my own. It also meant that I would not work with GM anymore. I don’t know what happened to him, but I do remember him occasionally (as Woeful’s own stories prompted me to do). It seems worth mentioning as a way to demonstrate that challenging patrons appear in libraries and communities of various sizes and types, and to give those of us in the biblioblogosphere a chance to commiserate after needing to maintain a professional demeanor during such encounters.

My first original meme

Well, I think it’s original, anyway. Some of you may have already read my posting from yesterday, which discusses how we read, as well as our apparent intellectual shortcomings in actually reading some works. Lennard J. Davis, the author of the article to which I refer, mentions several works of literature that he knows (or thinks) he should read, but has not quite gotten around to for whatever reason. I could relate to the author’s feelings, so I mentioned some of my own shortcomings in that regard.

By now, you have probably figured out what I am going to ask. If this problem sounds too familiar, I hereby “tag” you for what I call the “intellectual self-flagellation” meme. Extreme as it sounds, I mean it in jest because some of us overagonize about the books we have not read… or the pieces of music we have not listened to, or the films we have not seen. As Davis says, we believe that we have to impress our various circles of peers, which can cause such agony. I hope that this meme will give you a chance to have a clearer conscience, and to see that you are not alone in your own intellectual shortcomings.

Also feel free to talk about fears regarding the things you think you should like, but actually don’t and wouldn’t tell your friends and colleagues. Examples may include the following:

Telling your English lit colleagues that you find Dickens a bit too didactic to be considered great literature.
Explaining to your circle of music-loving friends why you would rather listen to Tchaikovsky than Schoenberg, whose didacticism rendered him a horrible composer.
Confessing to your hipper-than-thou friends that you consider Quentin Tarantino a second-rate hack with little to say after Pulp Fiction (and perhaps didactic in his own way).

Of course, the opinions listed above do not necessarily reflect those of the author.

Reading without reading

Since books have yet to shuffle their bound coils for digital paradise, this Chronicle piece by Lennard J. Davis seems rather appropriate for my fellow library workers… and maybe a little chilling. Apparently, a University of Paris professor by the name of Pierre Bayard has written a book entitled How to Talk About Books That You Haven’t Read. To top it off, the book has become a best seller over there. [Insert gratuitous cheap shot about post-structuralism, Jerry Lewis, or Google’s top hit for French military victories, here.] Never having read the book myself, I’ll take Bayard’s advice and say that it’s a steming load of merde.

In all seriousness, Davis does acknowledge the implications of Bayard’s advice. Not reading may seem like a vice (though I’m starting to believe more and more that the opposite has become true), but Davis also considers how it might also have some virtue. He begins by deconstructing the prescribed way of reading a book. (Yeah, I said “deconstructing.” Whaddya expect here?) In his opinion, many of us actually “graze” through books, which means that we do not go through them in a fixed, “linear” fashion.

As many of you are already aware, the conventional wisdom pits print materials like books up against digital information in a variety of formats. The old-fashioned way of getting information is through those bad old authoritarian print materials, which practically dictate that you read from cover-to-cover without jumping around. However, in this new Golden Age of digital information, you can jump from one online source to another because it’s like anarchy, man! However, as Davis says, this is merely a dictate of convention, not of the materials themselves.

I have pondered this question before, wondering if I might have missed something (beyond the obvious, anyway) in the inherent distinctions between books and online resources. However, speaking from personal experience, I firmly believe that you can jump around in books. They might not offer links that allow you to go off on different tangents, but they can still trigger a reaction that makes you look at something else. Many years ago, I would waste a few hours at a time reading film encyclopedias. I would go to look up one movie, but something would compel me to look at the entry for another movie. Maybe I did put forth a little more effort than clicking a link, but my reading of such volumes was certainly not linear. But then, such reference works do not lend themselves to linear reading. Other books do… or do they? Certainly, more “linear” non-fiction books lend themselves to such grazing.

Even in works of literature, I might pick up a favorite and read a section that I found particularly edifying. As in Davis’ case, some literary works have remained unread or partially read on my shelf for years. Naturally, I tried my hand at reading James Joyce’s Ulysses, but the bookmark has remained on page seven for the same number of years. Unfortunately, even my favorite fiction authors (all exiles, for whatever reason) have become victims of neglect. I consider Vladimir Nabokov one of my favorites, but I have only completely read his holy trinity of Lolita, Pnin, and Pale Fire. His earlier and later books await completion or picking up. The same goes for Thomas Mann, another favorite of mine (despite Nabokov’s antipathy towards him). I remember reading and liking his short stories in college, but I have only gotten part of the way through Doctor Faustus. As for my other favorite exile, Salman Rushdie, I have completed some of his books. I read The Satanic Verses in a postmodernism course my junior year of college, which got me hooked on Rushdie. Although I especially liked his writing style, I had a difficult time picking up quite a few of the allusions, with which SV is thick. (Naturally, one has to have a good understanding of Islam, as well as other topics, to truly “understand” it. Unfortunately for Rushdie, Ayatollah Khomeini understood it in a manner that made him issue a fatwa against the author.)

Naturally, one could say the same thing about opera. Sadly, even though I consider myself a major fan of German opera, I can’t honestly say that I have sat down and subjected myself to a complete opera by Richard Wagner. (I suppose Rossini was right, though I prefer those wonderful moments over Rossini’s pieces.) I remember borrowing a video of Tristan und Isolde several years ago, and fidgeting as I forced myself to sit through Act I. I wasn’t sure if it was the staging or the fact that I was watching it on a 13” TV, but something did not connect. I kept wondering, “When are they going to drink the damned love potion?” I also bought a complete DVD set of James Levine’s Metropolitan Opera production of Der Ring des Nibelungen, but I have yet to watch a bit of it. I would like to get the set of the controversial centenary staging at Bayreuth, which sounds more intriguing, but it seems a bit excessive if I haven’t already viewed the one I bought. As for Richard Strauss, I have little problem with his operas, especially the 100 minute shockers Salome and Elektra.

Anyway, enough of this self-flagellation. The closing of Davis’ piece seems most instructive for those of us who worry about coming across as frauds:

Perhaps we need a little less guilt and one-upmanship in this enterprise of reading. Let’s openly acknowledge that there are a library of ways to read, and that, being humans, we are somewhat prone to forgetting, imagining, delaying, and even not doing. If we were a little more open and honest about what we haven’t read, and if our colleagues were a little less judgmental and sanctimonious, we might loosen the harness of guilt that holds us back from actually picking up some book we’ve forsaken in the past. Who knows? Admitting that we don’t read might actually help us to read again.

The same goes for opera, too, especially Wagner. For his next project, perhaps Bayard could take on that topic, and maybe collaborate with a musicologist.

Feed me!

I suppose that someone else has used this title already to discuss some aspect of RSS feeds. However, it sounded better than “RSS. All that great?”

As many of you know (and do), subscribing to RSS feeds has become commonplace. They offer many advantages because you can get all the latest updates from your favorite sites. Following my wife’s lead, I also set up an RSS feed aggregator account several months ago. However, I only used it a few times, before my usage just petered out.

Like I have said about other technologies, I don’t begrudge others their excitement over RSS feeds. I just don’t want anyone to try “converting” me so that I become a more perfect Web 2.0 librarian or “cybrarian.” (The first thing that comes to mind when I see that word is the Cybermen, followed immediately by the name of a German film director.) Before I become a born-again enthusiast, I need to feel convinced that a new technology will truly benefit me or my patrons. For instance, it took me a while before I caught on to the appeal of MP3 players. When I figured out that I could make iTunes more accommodating of my music tastes, I could not get an iPod soon enough. As for RSS feeds, my excitement level has remained relatively low.

I haven’t been able to figure out my antipathy towards RSS feeds. For whatever reason, I prefer to visit individual sites at my convenience in search of any updates. I sometimes visit a site multiple times before finally seeing some kind of update. Mind, I don’t make such visits obsessively, which probably explains why I don’t use my RSS feed aggregator account. Those who track usage statistics on their sites might be happy, though.

It seems that if you get a notification about updates, you have an obligation to zip to the website immediately. Otherwise, you’ll miss some “important” hot news. Such an attitude may reek of techno-superstition, but perhaps it contains a small bit of truth. Getting the latest news ends up taking on the air of a mini-emergency, even for those of us who do not work in a field that deals with emergencies. Cutting edge businesses might see such updates as valuable, so RSS feeds seem most useful in that sense.

Of course, no one actually has to check their feed aggregators all the time. One can still do so at their own convenience, in much the same way that I check my favorite sites.

Apparently, some actually refer to themselves as RSS bigots. Basically, RSSBs steer clear of blogs if they do not have a way to place them in feed aggregators. Sucks for me, because I do not have an easy way for visitors to do this. That’s mainly because I had trouble getting the danged thing to work, and I have better things to do with my time. (Just like everyone else, I like my technology to work with minimal effort on my part.)
Not having an RSS feed subscription section on my blog does not appear to have done much damage. Somewhere around 40 people subscribe to my feed already. To those of you who have subscribed, my guess is that you either pressed the orange RSS subscription button in the toolbar, or that you added /feed to my blog’s URL. Whatever you did, I’m glad to know that some people out there aren’t “bigots,” and that they judge blogs by their content.

And why in the world would someone call themselves a “bigot,” anyway? I know it’s an attention grabber, but c’mon… the word has plenty of bad connotations.

Going beyond my own antipathy towards RSS feeds, Tony Snow’s latest column in Wired questions their contribution towards the betterment of society. Snow begins by discussing the availability of amounts of information, as well as how more people are “connected,” However, Snow sees some irony, because he believes that increased “connectivity” also allows people to become more insular. As a result, they can stay away from information that they deem “inconvenient.” (Within the context of librarianship, the issues brought up by Snow could relate somewhat to those raised by Rachel Gordon Singer’s recent Oroberosity posting.)

When discussing RSS feeds, Snow mentions how they can only send updates based on what one selects as areas of interest. Although nothing stops socially-conscious folks from selecting RSS feeds that Snow would probably find appropriate, I think he identifies an essential problem of individuals developing an echo chamber that aggregates ideas with which people feel “comfortable” (which, paradoxically, could induce discomfort in others). In the case of some databases that allow users to start feeds (or alerts) based on saved search strategies, they might not account for changes in interests over time. As a result, one can keep receiving “alerts” on topics that they no longer find interesting. Although one can delete the search strategy alert from their profiles, the process might seem more trouble than it’s worth. I suspect that people are likely to just delete an individual update and put it out of mind… until the next update. Nothing insidious there, but the accretion of such alerts adds just a bit more “infonoise” to one’s diet of incoming information. I know whereof I speak, because that happened to me and my supervisor in ScienceDirect. In fact, I think she still receives a notification about “concrete,” which she did as a demo of the database’s search alert capabilities a few years ago.

Besides the potential to induce an ennervating cocktail of laziness and information overload, an over-reliance on RSS feeds or database alerts could make people lose out on new sources of information that they might find interesting. Although aggregated feed or alert accounts might point one to new information, occasionally going on the Internet and finding sites the old-fashioned way (or via serendipity) can only expand one’s range of sources. RSS feeds and alerts may be convenient, but finding new sources beyond the usual suspects can bring the truly fresh perspectives necessary for getting by in a rapidly-changing world. Ironically, perhaps searching the old-fashioned way seems like the best way to do just that.

Five Blog Meme

Rachel Gordon Singer has started a new meme in the biblioblogosphere. She lists five non-library blogs that she reads, and she has “tagged” anyone who reads her posting to list five non-library blogs of their own.

Rather than following Singer’s instructions to the letter, I’ll just discuss the non-library links under my list of favorites. I know that one should work within the rules, but I’m not sure that I could meet the criteria exactly. Some influence my own writings, which may or may not relate to librarianship.

General news outlets:

Through a number of news sites, such as BBC, CNN, and Guardian Unlimited, I can find stories related to technology and education. (As for Fox, I steer clear of that due to its busy quasi-tabloid style… among other things.) Probably not bleeding edge stuff, but good enough for thinking of developments that might occur sooner rather than later.

Education news

As an academic librarian, I need to keep up with developments in higher education. The Chronicle is an old stand-by.

Technology news

Wired seems essential, even for those who might not think that they would like it. Although it has a blatant “techie” vibe, it has a nice variety of technology-related stories that could appeal to a broader audience. It also has more “bleeding edge” stories in language that reasonably technology-literate people can read. As an added bonus, not all stories have a “rah-rah” attitude towards the latest gadgets. In fact, it even has an occasional loyal opposition column by Tony Long called The Luddite. If you think that crotchety librarian approaching retirement doesn’t “get it” (whatever that means) about technology, you need to read this guy’s stuff. On the other hand, Long does make some good points about the excesses of technology.

New stories only appear quarterly, but The New Atlantis provides some interesting alternative perspectives on the interaction between humans and technology. Although I have issues with its somewhat obvious political bias, I do agree with its critical look at how we need to consider the ethical and political ramifications of new technological developments.

Idiosyncratic news and opinion

I’m not sure if that’s the right term, but some sites contain interesting and opinionated pieces on a variety of topics. Slate has a potpourri of stories by its own writers, while Arts and Letters Daily highlights three stories per day from many sources. Although the latter does not have a “personality” who culls diverse stories, it reminds me of the way that Terry Gross brings in people to discuss a multitude of topics. More or less echoing Gross’ own interviewing talent, a story that one normally would not read gets highlighted in AL&D, and it might turn out to be interesting.

Blogs:

Since this posting focuses on non-library sources, I have also decided to leave out resources related to information science. Nevertheless, I think it would be safe to include Siva Vaidhyanathan’s blog Sivacracy. Although he discusses libraries occasionally, Vaidhyanathan focuses more on the study of culture and communication. Of course, with the far-reaching implications of rapid changes in technology and the need for libraries to determine how they should respond, Vaidhyanathan’s insights are worth reading. However, keep in mind that several contributors post on a variety of subjects, and that only about half of the postings come from Vaidhyanathan himself. Expect an unapologetically left-leaning political stance, too.

Outside the orbit of libraries, information, etc., I do not really look at blogs on other topics. Personal blogs remain totally out of my scope. Nevertheless, I do enjoy reading New Yorker music critic Alex Ross’ The Rest is Noise. I first heard of him while looking for stories related to one of my favorite composers. I like Ross’ writing style, and he treats readers to a variety of stories related to music, as well as his other interests.

Well, it appears that I have five categories of non-library sources, rather than five specific blogs. Nevertheless, many of these types of sources make me think of trends and issues that might affect librarianship and information science. Even with its avocational appeal to me, Ross’ blog has the potential to inform my professional opinions.

I now “tag” any librarian, library school student, or library paraprofessional, to list and discuss however many non-library sources of all types they like.

Fifth grade composition

This posting describes what I did over Spring Break. Before I start, however, I don’t know what makes me think of my topic as something for fifth grade. It sounds like the kind of thing about which younger kids would be eager to write, though the appeal might start to wear around that time. As for my own fifth grade experience (along with third grade), I remember it as the most “undistinguished” of all my years in school. Of course, that was before I even considered the prospect of college. Fortunately, to make me more “motivated,” my parents concocted a way to make sixth grade more successful: I would get one dollar for every “A” received on my report card, which came out every six weeks. The stakes got higher in seventh grade, where I would get a flat $100 if I got on the honor roll. (Anything less earned me a measly $50, as happened just one quarter.)

Some people believe that education should have more intrinsic value, and that waving money in front of kids to motivate them is wrong. Although I ultimately developed a “love of learning” over the years that transformed me into a sort of Renaissance man (which also partially accounts for me entering librarianship), I also believe that you should earn something for doing what you’re supposed to do. After all, that’s how the real world is supposed to work. Many kids see school as their job, so it seems logical that they would expect some tangible reward for their efforts. In fact, during a class in fifth grade, I asked my teacher why students didn’t get paid to go to school. I think he said something about taxes already paying for us to go to school. Even after he gave an explanation that might have been good, it still didn’t make sense to me. I saw school as my job, and I had other things that I could have been doing with my time besides sitting in some boring classroom.

Anyway, back to my topic, which describes what I did over Spring Break. As you may know, my library closed for renovations, so I had plenty of time to relax and work on non-library stuff. Of course, time off never seems generous enough, as I have plenty of projects large and small that I hope to complete outside of work. Of course, I never got around to resuming my novel, five years in the making and around 40 pages completed. I have a skeletal outline in my head, and an even more nebulous sequel that surfaces in my thoughts occasionally. But then, who among us does not have an idea for a novel? My own concept doesn’t seem terribly original, which probably accounts for some of my hesitation. (I’m sure that YA librarians could tell me about the oversaturation of books about teenage vampires, saddled with the appropriate symbolism.) I have a few twists in mind to give the novel some semblance of originality, but I certainly have no plans to get experimental.

Well, that’s enough about what I didn’t do. As for things I did, I worked on a posting to commemorate the second anniversary of my mother’s passing. I also graded two short weekly papers and one large assignment for the class I’m teaching online. On Tuesday afternoon, I came to the library where I work to help guard the door as workers came by to install carpet. They finished all the offices that day, so I got a good start on returning my office back to normal. However, I will need to move things out again to accommodate new office furniture, due to arrive within the next month or two.

Around the house, I managed to do some heavy-duty cleaning. Diane and I also decided to organize the office. Over time, our office had become increasingly disorderly. To help alleviate this problem, we bought an “assemble-by-number” bookcase last Sunday, which I finished in about an hour. (Nailing the backside of the bookcase took a bit longer). The bookcase helped substantially with getting things organized, and various carrying bags ended up in the coat closet, making the office seem more spacious. While Diane was at work (her Spring Break is this week), I did some shopping to catch up on necessities, and to find good deals on summer clothing. I got two Izod polo shirts for 40% off, which seemed like too good of a deal to pass up. At Target, I bought some household necessities, as well as a copy of Casino Royale. I rarely buy new releases, but that movie was so bloody good that I had to get it. After all, the makers of the Bond films have spent roughly the past 40 years trying to find a replacement for Sean Connery. Subsequent Bonds seemed okay, but Daniel Craig’s Bond brought back that Connery vibe… and then some. (Yes, I also had my doubts about Craig at first, but his performance as Bond more than exceeded my expectations.) We had hoped to have more “movie nights,” but that did not happen. Fortunately, we did manage to watch The Third Man and Reds on both Saturday nights.

Overall, probably a less exciting break than that had by others. But then, my Spring Breaks have tended more towards relaxation and regrouping, rather than Dionysian revelry (or a debased form thereof). However, over the next few months, I plan on taking a few trips; one for professional business, and another for pure relaxation. At least for the professional trip, the relevant posting(s) should have a bit more substance than “what I did over Spring Break.”

Information and Immortality

Susan Irene Neal (née Delventhal) passed on two years ago today. She was born on 29 March 1934 to Raymond and Pearl Delventhal of Napoleon, Ohio. After graduating from Napoleon High School in 1952, Susan briefly went to nursing school in Toledo, and she married Robert Miller Neal of Montpelier, Ohio in 1953. Three sons (Dave, Tom, and me) lived under their roof for most of their marriage, during which time Susan had a drapery business. She also worked briefly as a 911 dispatcher and library paraprofessional. Susan got breast cancer in 1993, but managed to go cancer-free for another ten years after treatment. Sepsis related to the cancer’s return ultimately claimed her on 10 March 2005. Surrounded by family photos and prayer beads, her ashes currently rest in an urn on top of my father’s entertainment center.

Looking at the previous paragraph, I feel compelled to find an obituary to compare notes. Nevertheless, it sounds similar to the kind of brief biographical items that appear daily in newspapers. In the case of more famous people, obituaries seem redundant because we already know quite a bit about their lives… and deaths, as illustrated most recently by the ghoulish hullabaloo surrounding Anna Nicole Smith’s corpse. For many others, obituaries become one’s moment of “fame,” usually brief and local. Various mementos of one’s life remain scattered throughout photo albums and scrapbooks, guaranteeing a form of “immortality” until time or accident claims them as well.

For our own ancestors, we might be lucky to have letters, diaries, and stagy photographs in wooden poses. With increasingly less expensive digital technologies, more people can achieve a higher resolution form of “immortality” that consists of plentiful still photographs, as well as audio and video recordings. In addition, they can consolidate everything into personal websites, accounts on social networking sites, and so on. If such artifacts can easily transfer to newer technologies, our descendants will have an opportunity to develop more comprehensive assessments about our present. Of course, considering some of the stuff people put on their personal sites and social networking spaces, our descendants might look upon us with great bemusement.

Some have even wilder ideas about extended lifespans, afterlives, and immortality that dovetail with fringe ideas that tangentially relate to information science. X-Files fans may recall the William Gibson-penned episode Kill Switch, where a computer geek ultimately joins her companion in a cybernetic Liebestod. (I am woefully ignorant about “cyberpunk,” so I suspect that other stories exist with similar themes.) Even if one believes in an afterlife in the spiritual sense, it seems difficult to resist pondering the prospect of wandering in a kind of Second Life after shuffling our mortal coils, or “floating around” in cyberspace as an amorphous Star Child. In the real world, computer scientist Ray Kurzweil has more concrete ideas about how technology can help us achieve corporeal immortality. Rather than uploading ourselves like in the aforementioned X-Files episode, the article from Wired mentions Kurzweil’s belief that we could download improvements to our bodies from the Internet. Needless to say, plenty of scientists express skepticism about Kurzweil’s ideas.

Since such far-out technologies remain little more than dreams, I would like to believe that Mom has reunited with the people she cared about, but who passed on many years before. As far as I can tell, any notions of an afterlife remain firmly within the realm of fiction, or at least under the umbrella of “the unknown.” My skepticism may tell me not to believe in such a thing, but it also questions relentlessly materialistic worldviews that dismiss any possibility of a spiritual realm. Whatever one believes, all the possibilities can provoke interesting philosophical and theological discussions, even if our thoughts draw upon the usual metaphors.

My mother had a general aversion to technology, which I probably inherited to a certain degree. However, for the benefit of those who consider me a Luddite, I actually had to talk to exhaustion to convince her of the virtues of CD players and computers. Even though classical music had become difficult to find on cassette as early as the late 1980s, Mom did not want to get a CD player. Dad and I finally got her a Sony boombox for Christmas in 1996, though she seemed upset that we spent good money (around $120) on it. She also believed in driving cars until they passed their usual lifespans, which explains why we had a Buick Skylark and Chevette for 12 and 15 years, respectively.

If the technologies from the X-Files episode or Kurzweil’s head were readily available, my mother probably would have been skeptical of those as well. I could just hear her enunciating loudly, “What’s the point? Just convince me, and I’ll consider it.” (Convince? Yeah, sure…) To imagine her voice in similar scenarios, just think of Suze Orman’s manner of speaking, blended with a Midwestern twang and maybe a vestigial Teutonic touch. However, for more public appearances, my mother could go from Suze Orman to Hyacinth Bucket. I got this idea from Diane, who actually mentioned this after meeting my mother for the first time. Considering what I have seen of that show, Diane’s assessment doesn’t seem like much of a stretch.

Ironically, as I write this posting, I am giving my mother a form of immortality. As long as my mouse doesn’t suddenly fly away, or the computer monitor doesn’t flash otherworldly images, I suppose I’m on the right track. Besides, other than her phone number in Google, I turn up nothing about her on the Internet. I do have a few photographs of her on my flickr profile, though she did not like having her picture taken (unless absolutely necessary).

Right now, all you probably know about my mother derives from her brief biographical sketch, as well as the additional anecdotes peppered throughout this posting. I feel compelled to tell more, however, just to make her seem more real… and to show her more generous, thoughtful, and witty side. However, to do so properly would constitute a story about her family background… quite rich in itself, with family having come from Germany just two generations earlier. It seems a bit self-indulgent for this forum, but I hope to make a more comprehensive story about my mother’s life (or my version of it) available sometime.

The big move

As of 8:00 tonight, the library where I work will remain closed for an entire week. Normally, we stay open all year. During significant breaks, we have abbreviated hours. In this case, however, circumstances dictate that we close.

It has taken quite a bit of coordination, but we will get new carpet in the front part of the library this week. As a branch that serves the science and engineering departments of a university, it occupies part of the basement in one of the engineering buildings. Due to the scale of the project and the relatively small size of the library, closing for a week eventually emerged as the best option. The closure coincides with spring break, so it should have little significant effect on services. On the other hand, international students constitute the majority of our patrons, and going home for the break is not a viable option. Fortunately, those who remain on campus can still go to the university’s main library, as well as the fine arts library. Those who want to use or borrow a print resource from our library will need to wait, but they can use the other libraries’ computers. Of course, students and faculty can still access our electronic resources from any computer, whether on- or off-campus.

During the break, we will add some new computers. Six years ago, the science and engineering branch had five computers. Over time, we have gradually increased the number. Currently, the library has 30 computers. With the additional computers, we will have almost 50. The library got tables for the computers months ago, but people have still used them for studying, and for using their laptops.

Although we will have new carpet and extra computers at the end of the operation, one piece of the plan did not work out. Some of the staff got new modular office units last year, and the rest of us (yours truly included) were supposed to have them installed in our offices during the break. Unfortunately, that aspect did not work as planned, so we will get the remaining modular units later in the semester. I don’t mind waiting, but we will need to move everything out of our offices again when the furniture arrives.

I have already gotten most of the smaller things out of my office, and I eliminated a few personal recycling bins worth of extraneous papers. I am now ready to assist with moving furniture and larger objects when the time comes. This will probably start in earnest in the afternoon. In the meantime, some staff from our IT department will move the remaining computers out of the library. I will only need to come back Tuesday to guard the door for half a day. The rest of the week, I plan to catch up on a number of projects, and maybe get a little extra rest. If time allows, I might even write a few postings for this blog. Keep watching your feeds…

Yet another Apple product

My professional-style postings have slacked off of late for a number of reasons, though I hope to get back to writing some pieces of that ilk soon. However, in case you haven’t heard, I would like draw your attention to yet another new product from Apple. We librarians should probably try to learn more about this product, which I’m sure that “the kids” will love unconditionally.

All better now, and video games at the symphony

Whatever it was that started manifesting itself on Sunday, I finally got my requisite “stay home” illness of the season. This one hit my stomach, and I ended up staying home from work on Monday. Fortunately, SciFi had an X-Files marathon, though I started feeling guilty about my relative slothfulness after about five episodes. I made it to work on Tuesday, though I still had mild symptoms. This partially explains why I have gone almost a week without new postings.

On the upside, Diane got a new iPod (30 GB U2 Special Edition, with video), which meant that I finally got her vintage 20 GB U2 Special Edition from 2004. She jumped on the MP3 bandwagon before I did, so it’s only fair. With the help of a cassette adapter, I can finally listen to music of my own choosing to and from work. My Camry’s CD player died prematurely in June, so I have subsisted on NPR, the Dallas classical station, or nothing while commuting. Diane also happened to be out of town during most of my illness, so I hooked up the iPod adaptor to the bedroom stereo Sunday night and blasted various pieces of music to aid my recovery. At one point, I got some otherworldly feedback on an opera aria, which I account to a combination of my illness and the high volume settings on both iPod and stereo.

Like my last posting, not much related to librarianship. However, my perusing of various websites for Texas operas and orchestras led me to something interesting in relation to video games (a hot topic vis a vis our role as cultural custodians, and our contributions to education). In July, the Houston Symphony will perform a concert that contains music from video games. As has become the trend in some venues, the concert will include “appropriate” video projections. In this instance, the projections will come from the games themselves.

I have ambivalent feelings about this trend. Personally, I prefer to conjure my own images while listening to the music. Since I have personal experience from the older Nintendo games, but none from the newer ones, I would likely treat myself as a guinea pig. I would probably close my eyes, and conjure up my own personal associations between the music and my own thoughts; such associations may be visual or aural.

The Houston Symphony is no stranger to projections during concerts. They recently performed Gustav Holst’s The Planets with celestial projections from NASA (appropriate for Houston), and they plan on doing Richard Strauss’ Eine Alpensinfonie next season with visuals portraying a mountain ascent and descent. Again, I’m not sure what to think about it. I can understand arguments in favor of using one’s imagination, as well as those who find that the visuals make the music seem more “real.” But, as in my case, I might just close my eyes if I prefer to let my imagination wander (though those who worry about “appearances” might have concerns that others will think they’re sleeping). However, in the case of Sergei Prokofiev’s Alexander Nevsky, it seems more than appropriate for an orchestra to accompany projected visuals. In fact, Prokofiev wrote the music specifically for Sergei Eisenstein’s 1938 film of the same name. A few years ago, the Houston Symphony gave some concerts where they accompanied the film.

Whatever one thinks about the idea of a video game music concert, the previous one did excellent business. With such concerts having the potential for huge popularity, perhaps gamers would see the distance between video games and “high culture” as artificial. Now to convince more stolid concert-goers.

On a more self-centered note, my wanderings of nearby symphony and opera websites brought me great news. My favorite opera will be playing in Dallas next season! Of course, with opera, one cannot just close their eyes… unless they’re bored out of their skulls. This one should offer no such problems, however.