Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Protopages

Mr. J-Bizzle (aka Josh Benson) just pointed out a neat-o RSS feeder:

Proto Page

At first blush, it seems very flexible -- it's an online RSS feeder, so I assume once an account is created, you can sign on from anywhere and have access to all your feeds you want. I need to play with some more, but it looks like a real nice solution to possible problems of having to check a million sites to get what you want.

Professor Wikipedia?

I don't think I have to explain this clip, but...



Agree? Disagree?

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Blogs!

I'm a bit slow on the uptake, but for those that may teach research classes/group papers -- blog would be an awesome collaborative space. There is an option at least for this blog to limit the people who can see the information to the authorized authors, or a very select audience. Imagine splitting up a work loud and posting summarizes to a central repository, one that can be accessed online that's not taking up space (like a fatty word doc) -- this would eliminate the hassle of forgotten emails, attachments disappearing in ether, and other convenient excuses.

In the same mold, this would be awesome to work in a class that focuses on discussion, like 602 -- everyone could be given author permissions with the prof as admin, and maybe a person/group are responsible for providing talking points for each class/doing critical analyses of essays for one class. Again, there is this central repository of information, a microcosm community of academics, who are "freed" from traditional academic methods, yet still are "bound" by them (e.g., correct grammar, appropriate citations, but a "looser" style).

As usual, my ideas come out in jumbled spurts, but I can definitely see blogs becoming more and more collaborative spaces over time, and drastically cutting down research time, especially for group projects.

Comments?

<3 Gl3nn

The Issues of Rhetoric

Using and studying lolcats steers us to many dimensions of rhetorical persuasion we might overlook. Glenn's entries focus on the nonverbal persuasive dimensions and the emotions involved in persuasion. If we jump into this and discuss it a bit more at our working session on Wednesday, we can address more of those questions.

Please read his earlier entries and conribute your entries. His research project depends on our participation.
RP

Friday, November 7, 2008

Cognitive Technology

I worked in bookselling from 1994 to 2004. During that time, the death of the book was a constant source of conversation and consternation. I imagine that it still is. And yet… And yet the book continues to not die. The survival of the book depends on a complex array of factors—the conservative nature of the publishing industry, the singular smell of old paper in a leather binding—but, fundamentally, the book persists because it is a remarkably successful piece of technology.

When we encounter the word “technology,” we tend to think of things that run on silicon chips and have an LED screen. We think, for example, of the iPhone. The iPhone is, of course, a piece of technology. It was invented for a complex array of reasons—Apple’s market-driven need to duplicate the success of the iPod, the gadget-lover’s desire for a new new thing—but, basically, it exists because people would rather have one small device that allows them to check e-mail, take photos, listen to music, google stuff, and—oh, yeah—make phone calls than carry around 20 pounds of electronic equipment.

The book as we know it exists because people found it preferable to stone tablets, papyrus scrolls, and the various other means of recording and transmitting text that were invented before somebody had the brilliant idea of folding together separate pages and binding them between two covers. The book has changed over the millennia, of course—very few of us have our books hand-printed and illuminated by monks these days—but the basic form persists because it works. The digitization of printed material is a worthwhile project, and I’m interested to see where it goes. I have, myself, used and purchased ebooks. It’s nice to have the Harlequin novel I want delivered to my computer at the click of a button. However, if I try to take my laptop out into the backyard on a sunny day, or if I try to read my romance in the bathtub, I discover once again what a wonderful piece of technology the lowly mass market paperback is.

I’ve been thinking about this because Professor Primeau mentioned print-on-demand in our last class, and because we talked about the value of traditional scholarly discourse. I’ve been thinking that the hoary old expository paper persists because it works. It’s important to be aware of the many ways in which the academy has been and continues to be exclusionary, and I remain open to the possibility that there may be something inherently discriminatory about traditional discourse. I would like to argue that discrimination is not, itself, a bad thing—if what academic discourse rejects is bad scholarship rather than groups of people. But I also know that groups of people have been excluded by the academy arguing that certain groups of people are constitutionally incapable of sound scholarship. So…

So, I guess I would like to suggest, as some of my colleagues did Wednesday night, that traditional discourse is valuable because it works well. As a means of communication, it has proven useful in transmitting thoughts from one person to another. And, as a piece of what we might call cognitive technology, it encourages critical thinking and enforces clear organization. It is an effective tool for fostering a community of ideas.

But, I would like to add that this doesn’t mean that there’s no room for innovation, just as the advent of the paperback didn’t mean that no one would ever again need or want a hardbound book. What it means is that pretty much every paper I write begins as a five-paragraph theme—the form I learned from Ms. Dye in the tenth grade. Often, I find it necessary to deviate from this scheme. We did talk briefly Wednesday night about the possibility that certain texts require particular—even “alternative”—forms, and I think that makes perfect sense. But, myself, I don’t abandon the traditional form that has served me so well over twenty years of schooling until I feel that I don’t have a choice.

Certainly, with my latest research, I tried strenuously to wrestle it into a paper before I decided that it really should be a website. I’m guessing, though, that, when I reach the end of the project, I will feel the need to summarize my web-based experience. I’m guessing that I’ll feel compelled to organize my thoughts and try to arrive at some conclusions. I’m guessing that when I’m finished with this process of assessment, what I’ll end up with is a text that looks very much like a good, old-fashioned expository paper.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Intertexuality

As a discipline, folkloristics is built on the principle of intertextuality. While contemporary folklorists respect each performance a folktale as a unique text, folklorists believe that critical consideration of that text must take into account not only other iterations of the same tale, but also various versions of related tales. The key reference works of folkloristics—the Aarne-Thompson classification system and Stith Thompson’s Motif-Index of Folk-Literature—are, essentially, attempts to map the terrain of folklore by identifying common elements and tracing them through multiple variants of thousands of tale types.

These works are amazing artifacts of the structuralist impulse, and they are invaluable tools for folkloristics. This is not, however, to say that they are easy to use. There are a number of reasons why this is the case, but one of them is the dumb physical labor or repeatedly flipping back and forth—referencing and cross-referencing—across several thick volumes of close type. I am, at the moment, involved in a research project that relies heavily on both the AT system and the motif index, and it has occurred to me—several times an hour—that this is one instance in which electronic text would be vastly superior to print text.

It has also occurred to me, as I have amassed information and tried to wrestle it into coherence, that my project itself would make so much more sense in hypertext than on paper. Electronic expression allows me to demonstrate how the intertextual approach to folklore works, rather than just describe it. It also makes it easy for the reader to take whatever avenue of exploration is most compelling, rather than follow my narrowly delimited argument—a feature that is especially appealing to me, since I don’t actually have an argument. My project is research of the purest kind: I’m not seeking evidence in support of a thesis; I am, rather, just travelling through the texts, looking for whatever I find.

So, here it is: my research project, one step at a time…

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

I Can Has Cheezburger?

Hopefully, you all have heard of lolcats -- if not, let me direct you to here

Recently, I was thinking about the "messages" these sorts of image send, and thought they might be a viable method to teach rhetoric -- the pictures do indeed try to "sell" things through their appeals, which are usually at least try to be humorous (pathos-like, if you will).

I created an assignment that involves students creating their own lolcat image -- for this particular iteration, any portion of the ICHC could be leveraged, and that included the "Pundit Kitchen" portion, which applies the same concept of lolcats/ICHC with "political" images.

The creation of the image isn't the main exercise; rather, the thought involved in the process (the actual selection of the image to the captioning) was. The main goal was to get students thinking about the why's -- why do they pick a particular image, what step do they take to caption it, and how accurate it is in "selling" their point of view.

The results were pretty interesting, especially whether such images could be used as a rhetoric tool. A concern of some people were that the images would just be seen as humorous/lacking educational value, a concern echoed by those who feel teaching in conjunction with new media will only dilute the process. However, some people found this humor to be a major selling point -- each image does indeed try to "persuade" the viewer by its overall cleverness, the total package of the right image and the right quote. Some responses simply think it depends -- a well-crafted image could be very much persuasive versus a hastily created image. A caveat in one response is that seeing too many of these images may increase the "immunity" one has to the images -- the more one sees the "same," the more likely they are to establish a fixed way of reading and thus nothing new may be uncovered.

Overall, I think teaching with lolcats could be awesome as long as the direction is known -- lolcats would be especially helpful in describing the emotions of an article -- I don't think these can necessarily fully represent ethos (while logos may be sufficiently shown, depending), but these types of images can get viewers in the right frame of mind to see what kind of moves an author makes in order to hook a reader in emotionally. What is also cool about using lolcats as a tool is that it can be used to give the students more responsibility into classroom content -- you can have each person create (anonymously) a lolcat image and submit it -- from there, a few can be selected and given to the class to get them to investigate how well each image works.

A post is forthcoming with specific types of questions/ways to lead such an activity.