william j. moner

media studies // interactive design // media education

March 8, 2012
by wjm
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A poem from my childhood … Shel Silverstein, “Listen to the Mustn’ts”

I found one of my favorite books from my childhood this evening: Shel Silverstein’s collection of poetry, Where the Sidewalk Ends. This book is tattered, yellow, heavy with the dust of 30+ years on bookshelves in three different states.

I am three years in to my PhD program, and I’m hitting the point where my dissertation project is beginning to take shape and my comprehensive exam reading lists are being formulated. This feels like something real. I know where I’m heading, and I am on my way.

So I suppose the poem on page 27 of Silverstein’s classic volume resonates with me tonight because of those realities, but I think it suits anyone who has moments of self-doubt on their way to completing a monumental goal.

Listen to the Mustn’ts

– by Shel Silverstein

Listen to the MUSTN’TS, child,
Listen to the DON’TS
Listen to the SHOULDN’TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me—
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.

G’night…

February 29, 2012
by wjm
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Winter 2012 and Current Projects

In a short discussion with one of my students, I observed that my blog hadn’t been updated since October, 2011. This post aims to remedy that situation. Onward!

What have I been up to? Quite a bit, actually …

I am teaching two courses and two independent studies at the Art Institute of Austin this quarter. The first course, Image Manipulation, is an introduction to digital image editing using Photoshop as the tool. The second, Programming Logic, is a course built to introduce students to common programming structures and logic. I am using the Processing language as the basis for learning because of its visual nature and its low barrier to entry for beginners.

I am leading two independent study courses: Portfolio II and Project Management. Also, I am facilitating an online course in Interactive Authoring for the Art Institute of Pittsburgh Online Division, and I will be facilitating a User-Centered Design course for AIP-OD beginning in March.

Additionally, I am working on a research project at the University of Texas at Austin as part of the Immersive TV project between UT and Portugal, and I will be contributing to continuing research on the Connected Viewing Initiative. Sharon Strover is the primary investigator on both projects, and I’m thankful for the opportunity to expand my research skills under her careful guidance.

In the midst of all of this, I hope to complete my qualifying exams to enter candidacy by the end of the summer. I’m finally getting to the point where my own research will move to the front burner!

-wm

February 21, 2011
by wjm
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Links from the underground, links to the past…

I first started using the Internet and World Wide Web in September, 1993. I was a freshman at Notre Dame. Some friends at Carnegie Mellon University encouraged me to start using a BBS called “ISCA” to keep in touch with them. I visited the computer labs at least twice a week to keep in touch with friends from back home in Pittsburgh. (BBSs are a lesser-publicized online text-based realm filled with “rooms” for discussion posts and a chance to chat one-on-one with friends.)

On one occasion, while looking for the Telnet app on the PC, I stumbled upon a Windows 3.1 desktop icon titled “NCSA Mosaic.” I doubt I can remember the specific day I found this icon, but I recall that it was around the same time I found the entire Monty Python and the Holy Grail script on a USENET group. (Yeah, I printed it. In fact, I may still have it in one of my boxes!) I double-clicked, and there it was … the World Wide Web. My life would never be the same.

Those were the days!

The early days of the World Wide Web cannot be recaptured easily. A small percentage of the original pages exist. The aesthetics were garish. The technology was limited to text and inline images. HTML tables were a couple of years away, and graphics programs struggled to handle high-quality images. Memory lagged and modems chugged along slowly. Nobody knew exactly what “the Web” was.

But everyone had a vision. Justin Hall posted his vision of the Web in 1995. Justin hosted one of the most interesting lists of links to resources on the web in the early days. Titled “Links from the Underground,” Justin’s web site grew to be insanely popular at colleges across the country as the Web began to expose some of the best and worst of human creativity. He also shared a lot about himself in the process.

I particularly like Justin’s charming attempt at finding friends online: “I’m looking for these folks from a 1991 summer student-type trip…”

Some of the earliest artifacts of the Web can be found in the deep, unmanaged recesses of early adopters at universities and public organizations. One of these resources is Notre Dame’s “Gipper,” an early web-based campus newsletter. The “Gipper” nom de plume allowed for an anonymized, gossip-laden view of the Notre Dame campus. One of his entries, dated February 24, 1994, details the Gipper’s adoption of the web as a publishing platform.

Note how “easy” it was to find information on the first Notre Dame web site:

Next time you’ve need to kill a couple hours, look for the Gipper On-Line on Mosaic under the Notre Dame Home Page, under “Links, Links, Links” under “Just Plain Cool Stuff” under “The Orange Room” under “The Toy Box.” The Gipp is thankful for this easy-to-find location.

In 1994, on Mosaic (the web browser), the Notre Dame home page led to “Links, Links, Links” which led to “Just Plain Cool Stuff which led to “The Orange Room” which led to “The Toy Box” which led to “Gipper On-line.” I’m sure you noted the Gipp’s sarcasm at the difficulties of early Web findability.

I am curious as to how to capture the experience of the Web in 1994. Would recapturing the early experiences of the WWW be useful to scholars and historians? How might it best be captured? Historians tend to focus on the early success stories: the Yahoo! guys, Amazon, eBay. What about the lesser-knowns? The Justin Hall’s of the world certainly have a story to tell about the early days of the world’s interactive global medium. How might we best capture that story?

(Note: I’ve contacted Justin, and I am beginning to consider the strategy of capturing the history of the Web from the perspective of those who planted the early seeds of growth. This is tricky territory! I remember it, but how best to capture and share the collective memory?)

[Crossposted to Collecting New Media]

February 20, 2011
by wjm
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Information Standards for Collections

I have spent some time over the past couple of days considering the final course project and the challenge of collecting digital artifacts, objects, and networks of information.

The National Information Standards Organization (NISO) publishes a Framework of Guidance for Building Good Digital Collections, and I would like to submit it to all of you as an example of building standards for our course project collection.

The site contains several links relevant to building our own standards for the project. For each of their principles, the organization stresses the importance of developing a policy prior to the initiation of any collection project. NISO provides a solid list of policies already in existence. The list seems like a great place to start developing our own standards of how to collect digital or born-digital materials.

The organization also maintains principles on the acquisition, maintenance and storage of objects and metadata. While the resources for digitized materials is quite detailed, the list of born-digital object strategies [on the same page] does not specifically address issues of archiving web sites, blogs, wikis, fan communities or other networked collaborative environments.

Finally, the site provides recommendations for launching initiatives. Several of the resources point to standard project management guidelines, and the site underscores the importance of marketing and long-term planning when considering how an initiative might grow.

[Crossposted to Collecting New Media blog]

January 31, 2011
by wjm
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The Fractal

One of the course readings this week in “Collecting New Media” dealt with the growth of Wunderkammern or “wonder cabinets” in the 17th century. The article, written by William Mueller in 2001, outlines the evolution of wonder alongside the evolution of mathematical discovery.

At the outset, Mueller describes the method through which early collections of disjointed, random items became the first museums of science, natural history and the like. Galileo and other scientists of the time expressed scorn and derision towards these curious yet undisciplined collections. As mathematics emerged as a serious endeavor in the 17th century, mathematical pioneers such as Descartes echoed Galileo’s disdain for “objects of wonder” while others like Pascal reveled in the idea that a public would be curious about mathematics. In the 19th century, Mueller writes, mathematicians “really began to wonder.”

Mueller’s description of the reception of scientists to the growing collection of “wonders” inspired a bit of wonder for me as well. Arguably, the Internet boasts the largest collection of curiosities in the world. In the context of “new” media (or, more specifically, digital or digitized media), what does the digital realm owe to its mathematical forebears in creating what we might now consider a very large, very diverse Wunderkammern in the form of the World Wide Web, video games, and interactive media? What is the value of collecting lolcats or articles about Jon and Kate Plus 8? Conversely, what out there in the universe (even just the internetworked universe) lies undiscovered?

While I could argue the merits of lolcats or the value of pop culture, I am afraid that I wouldn’t be addressing the question directly: what value do digital collections hold beyond their status as wunderkammern? To this end, I began considering the idea of the fractal. These sometimes beautiful and stunningly complex objects originate from mathematics as, simple mathematical manipulation but could perhaps provide an explanation or at least a method of studying complex processes in nature, economics, or other disciplines. Yet the computer-aided or artist-aided visualization of fractal equations and iterations can create beautiful, complex and interesting objects. The mathematician working with fractals can generate astoundingly intricate designs by manipulating simple numbers in an equation.

Innovation exists at the intersection of art and science. For centuries, artists have been manipulating the physical world to produce objects of wonder, and collectors have cherished (or at least acquired) these objects for exceedingly peculiar reasons. Yet the object itself holds value because of its existence. In the digital realm, the sheer processing power of computers provides myriad examples of experimental manipulations beyond what scientists or mathematicians might presume to know. One small variation in a mathematical equation could unlock discoveries as yet unconsidered, introducing new objects of curiosity and a subsequent sense of wonder over these new, digital fractal objects.

In an exceedingly pithy fashion, he summarizes, “As long as there is ‘unknowing,’ there will be a recognition of the need for wonder.” I would argue along with Mueller that science and mathematical discovery cannot exist without a sense of wonder.

January 28, 2011
by wjm
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Francis Ford Coppola: On Risk, Money, Craft & Collaboration :: Articles :: The 99 Percent

The world needs more artists. Francis Ford Coppola (The Godfather, Apocalypse Now), speaking to a group of students recently, suggests that filmmaking is art and should be pursued as an artistic rather than a commercial endeavor. He offers advice for aspiring artists about the process of making great art, and none of his advice has anything to do with commercial success.

Read the entire interview: Francis Ford Coppola: On Risk, Money, Craft & Collaboration [The 99 Percent]. Some of my favorite quotes from the article:

“I always like to say that cinema without risk is like having no sex and expecting to have a baby. You have to take a risk.”

“We want you to take from us. We want you, at first, to steal from us, because you can’t steal. You will take what we give you and you will put it in your own voice and that’s how you will find your voice.”

“Don’t worry about whether it’s appropriate to borrow or to take or do something like someone you admire because that’s only the first step and you have to take the first step.”

“Maybe the students are right. They should be able to download music and movies. I’m going to be shot for saying this. But who said art has to cost money? And therefore, who says artists have to make money?”

“We know that art is about beauty, and therefore it has to be about truth.”

“The writer, the young writer, has a hormone that makes them hate what they’ve written. And yet, the next morning, when you look at it, you say, ‘Oh that’s not bad.’ But the first second you hate it.”

[ht: kottke.org]

January 24, 2011
by wjm
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Accessing a personal digital history

The users of social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter amass a significant amount of information about their own history within these services—what they’ve been doing, what they’ve been thinking, and where they have been. These services all seem to share the same common attitude about user data. Data are valuable to the service provider for marketing and proprietary service research, but the information stored by the services is either difficult to access or unavailable for the casual user to research their own history. The limitations are most likely imposed by the software manufacturers, either due to the interface restrictions or the onus of storing years upon years of historical data for ready access. For instance, to find a status update from one year ago, I would need to look back in my history by clicking page by page into my archive starting at my most recent entry. I would need to click back through hundreds of pages of my own history to find one single update.

Information shared on Facebook is your information. Yet it is your information governed by the limitations and decisions made by actors and actants in the Facebook corporate universe. Information can be retrieved from Facebook through an obscure Download Your Information service.

The limitations of using services like Facebook for personal storytelling or personal archive are wrapped into the user experience of these social networking platforms. While the service is excellent for capturing the zeitgeist and allowing people to socialize at any given moment (or even throughout a given week or month), Facebook and services of its ilk lack the tools and functionality to provide a robust personal history search.

Some emerging services aim to solve some of the problems presented by the services’ native interface. One new service, Memolane, promises to allow users to capture, view and share one’s entire digital life in one place. The demo version of the service shows each of the events or items on a person’s timeline in a linear fashion from oldest to newest event (left to right). The service pulls from the public information feeds available to it from sites like Facebook, Twitter, Picasa, Flickr, RSS feeds and several other services publicly available on the Web. The data utilized by Memolane is available through each service’s API and relies upon both the ethos of open data sharing and the limitations of the information provided through the API.

A danger lurks heavily in providing this type of social history service. The service relies on the presence of each of the individual data service providers. If Flickr disappears, the data available through the API disappears and reliant services such as Memolane lose the ability to draw from the open data source. Clearly, while the service purports to store an timeline to build a story or a “day in the life” experience of public data, the service does not solve the problem of recording and storing the data streams for posterity’s sake. It is unclear that Memolane’s mission would be to provide a full backup of all social history items.

Online services housing public, personal data should take into consideration the storytelling potential of large amounts of historical data. Should the organizations themselves be trusted to provide easy-to-use, configurable and customizable services to extricate data from their services? Or should organizations such as the Library of Congress act in the service of the public to fight for access to this data as they did with the Twitter archive? When considering the volume of information on the Web and the impulse to digitize the world’s information resources, the loss of a significant digital history could be as tragic as the loss of the great libraries of the Greek and Roman empires.

[Crossposted to the Collecting New Media blog at the University of Texas School of Information]

January 21, 2011
by wjm
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A brief update…

The site has been stagnant for a while. It’s time to make some fresh updates and to reëstablish a web presence.

I’ll be updating the site with course resources for Art Institute students and enhancing my research links by incorporating current topics into the site. Recently, I have been interested in methods of archiving and storing web sites, and my current research aims to explore the complexity of maintaining a meaningful and long-lasting history of the web and digital technologies.

More soon…
-wjm

June 21, 2010
by wjm
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Now with WordPress 3.0

Pardon the mess! This blog is being upgraded from WordPress 2.x to the brand new WordPress 3.0 platform. I will be modifying the theme and beginning the process of building this site into what I had always hoped it to be.

(I figured I should put something on the front page to let you know what’s up!)

-wjm