As succinctly as I can put it... in my opinion...

1) Discrimination sucks... period.

2) Anti-discrimination legislation will not stop discrimination... sadly.

3) Supporting anti-discrimination legislation about X does *not* mean that you actively support X; it means that you oppose discrimination... there *is* a difference.

4) Opposing anti-discrimination legislation is effectively the same as supporting discrimination... if you believe in discrimination, admit it.

5) Taking a neutral / non-committal stance on anti-discrimination legislation shows, at best, apathy; at worst, cowardice... which are you?

6) If you oppose X, then campaign against it based on reasoned judgment, rather than trying to legislate prejudice towards X; if you are so afraid of the seductive power of X, that the slightest exposure to X will convert people wholesale and permanently to the cause of X, then a) why is your alternative so relevant; b) assuming that you believe your alternative is better, come up with a better sales pitch... wage a positive campaign.

Bottom line: I can think of pros and cons for just about any issue; but I just cannot see any rational argument against anti-discrimination legislation. I would vote in favour of anti-discrimination legislation on *any* issue, regardless of whether I believe in the issue or not. Because that way, *every* cause, *every* viewpoint, *every* perspective has a chance to be heard, tested and decided on, equally and fairly, on its own merits. And this is an issue where, I believe, if you don't actually *support* anti-discrimination legislation, then you support discrimination; I'm sorry, but I don't think you can abstain on this issue. You are best disingenuous, at least a coward, and at worst a liar (and, arguably, all three) if you abstain.

But this point was made, much more eloquently than I'll ever be capable of, by a priest in the final days of World War Two.

First They Came For The Communists (1945)
by Martin Niemoller (1892 - 1984)

First they came for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up,
because I wasn't a Communist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up,
because I wasn't a Jew.

Then they came for the Catholics,
and I didn't speak up,
because I was a Protestant.

Then they came for me,
and by that time there was no one
left to speak up for me.

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O Canada

The thing about keeping my perceptions open is that I spot trends and threads that otherwise might fly completely under my radar. Just at the moment, I can't seem to take a step in any direction without tripping over Canada or Canadians. :-) Bizarre... but really pleasurable. This weekend, just about everything that has happened to me has had a touch of the maple leaf about it; here goes...

A few weeks ago, I read on Tod Maffin's great blog "i love radio.org" that he was going to be in the UK, and was interested in meeting up with anyone with an interest in podcasting. Tod's a producer for CBC Radio in Canada; radio is his passion and day job, while podcasting is his hobby. (I've mentioned his fantastic show "How to do Stuff" in the past; as I wrote here, one particular episode of that show is still my pick for "podcast of the year"; I've played it to so many people, who just crack up when they hear it.) Anyway, we arranged to meet up for a coffee and a chat yesterday afternoon, and so we did; take it from me, a nicer, funnier guy you'd be hard pressed to find. It was a pleasure meeting you, Tod!

Having arranged to meet Tod in the afternoon, I suggested a morning meet-up with a great friend of mine, Marie. So we met for coffee and baklava in a cafe on the Edgware Road, and then adjourned to a nearby Persian restaurant for an absolutely gorgeous lunch. Nice to just chill out and have a girly chat for a few hours... and the Canadian connection? Building work on her new home in Toronto is nearly completed.

So, I have to make it from the Edgware Road to the Strand in exactly twenty minutes, including finding somewhere to park. And I make it through the tourist-crowded streets in exactly 22 minutes. Maybe I should consider a career option as a London cabbie. ;-) It helps to have some adrenalising music pumping through the speakers; which was from the album "Spiritual Machines" by the (you've guessed it) *Canadian* band Our Lady Peace. A band I'd been unaware of until hearing them mentioned (and played) on the show "Acts of Volition Radio" by the recipient of one of the extremely coveted "You Rock!" awards, Steven Garrity; who, of course, hails from Canada.

On the drive home, I listen to some more of the audiobook I'm currently enjoying; "Hey Nostradamus", which was written by one of my favourite authors, Douglas Coupland (and no prizes for guessing where *he* comes from).

This morning, my podcatcher greets me with the welcome arrival of Session 20 of "Acts of Volition Radio"; I'm saving that for tomorrow, for the weekly drive to London for electrolysis and speech and language therapy.

And tonight I see that a new article has been added to Toronto-based Melanie McBride's blog, "Chandrasutra". I was touched beyond words when she emailed me last weekend to ask if she could put an interview with me on her blog; but what made that request so much sweeter, for me, was when she explained that one of the reasons she wanted to include me was because she "needed some female energy in there".

You cannot possibly imagine how much that statement meant, to me.

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Manic Monkey

This is one of those insufferably self-centred "I'm happy and I don't care who knows it" kind of posts. Well, if I've learned anything over the last few years, it's that you need to celebrate and remember the good times, because there'll be bad times, too; and if you have a history of Depression (as, sadly, I do) then the tendency is to forget the good and magnify the bad. So, in the spirit of keeping a record of the good moments as a bastion against the less good, here goes.

Work - I've written pretty extensively about the difficulties I've had over the past few months because of my failing memory. And of the support I've received from my colleagues. It is, frankly, humbling to me that they've stuck by me through periods when I'm sure I've been less use than ornament. Over the last few weeks I've felt definite signs of the old professional magic returning; with luck, this isn't yet another false dawn. And there's a human element to this, too; I suspect I've had my head stuck so firmly up my own backside as I've tried to work through these memory-challenged months that I've missed out on much of the inter-personal by-play that abounds at a company like Exony. For example, I noticed this week that my colleagues have been gradually changing their IM (Instant Messenger) nicknames to variations on a theme, the theme being monkeys; when did *that* start? Why did I not notice? Sad that I didn't notice *before*; encouraging that I have noticed *now*. (For the record, since one of my colleagues had already nabbed "SQL Monkey" and another had staked a claim to "OLAP Monkey", I flirted with "MDX Monkey", before realising that the vast majority wouldn't know what MDX was; so I have settled on "Multidimensional Monkey", for now, as you can read into that whatever you will.) Although, the way things have been progressing for me this week, the title of this post might be more appropriate... ;-)

Poker - as I mentioned here, seven of us played poker on Wednesday evening. What a great evening! I think we all had a thoroughly enjoyable time; I am not ashamed to admit that I was the first to lose my chips, bought myself back in, and promptly lost again! What I learned from this was that a) there's no point trying to bluff against people who don't know the odds, and b) I am way rusty. But I learned quite a lot about my fellow players, too; so, if this becomes a regular game, I hope they enjoyed the experience of winning against me, because they may not taste that pleasure too often... I hope! LOL

Apologies - I had the opportunity this week to apologise to someone who felt the thick end of the first flush of my hormonal temper a few months ago. Really, it was pretty lame of me not to have apologised properly before; but, I've done it *now*, and I'm so glad that I have. The person concerned had done me an extraordinary kindness and courtesy this week, and I was pleased to thank them for it, and to follow up with the apology. I think we both understand each other much better as a result; this can only be a good thing, in my opinion.

Documentary - just when I thought my stint in front of the camera was done, it turns out that there is the possibility of more screen-time; and in a way that would appeal to any girl who likes to be pampered. Like me! :-) So, I'll say no more on that subject at this point, other than I really hope it happens (not least because it means one or two of my friends will get their moment of fame, or infamy, too).

Feedback - on Friday, I received an email from someone who had just discovered podcasts, and somehow had stumbled across my "CrossOver" show. What they said in their email touched me to the core; and provided a perfect validation of why I should continue (for now, at least) to record those shows. My friend and colleague Vikram wrote recently on his blog as follows:

Another reason which I think keeps me away from blogging is a sense of insecurity to put myself out in public on the internet. This keeps eating my brains out as to who might comment on any kind of stupidity which may exists in the post. I may not find certain things stupid for myself, but I cannot comment on how others would/may/might react.

The best argument I can offer in favour of blogging is the effect that receiving an email like the one I have just mentioned. We each plough our lonely furrow through the field of life; and we just don't know how the details of how we plough our own furrow can impact others for the better. Had I taken the (understandable, I suspect) decision *not* to blog or podcast about certain aspects of my life, sure, I could have minimised the possible downside. But I can't even begin to describe the sense of fulfilment I have gained from the responses of others to what I have written or recorded. The small risk has been repaid many times over.

In addition, this weekend has seen some really cool events - but there's a common theme underlying *them*, and they deserve their own post...

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Re: CrossOver Session Seven: "Choose Your Rights"

Now online (MP3, 3.6 MB, 15 minutes 30 seconds) - in which, gentle listener, you hear part of my homework from last week's session of speech and language therapy, i.e. a ten-minute piece of continuous, scripted speech. I've used as inspiration the BBC Radio 4 documentary I posted about here and have gone on to add one or two personal observations of my own. Any feedback or comments (whether about the content itself, or my, ahem, "performance") would be, as ever, most welcome!

[Via CrossOver]

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A quick heads-up: "Unreliable Evidence"

One of (in my opinion) the UK's national treasures, the BBC (dear old "Auntie Beeb") aired a documentary programme on Radio 4 last Monday evening, which discussed the legal aspects of a piece of legislation that I've mentioned before, the Gender Recognition Act. I've just listened to the programme, and I think it gives a fair, balanced and informative explanation of the "why and wherefore" of the Act, of the issues it addresses (and sadly, the issues it leaves unresolved). I'll write a more detailed review and commentary over the weekend, but since the BBC only streams programmes for seven days after they've been transmitted, I wanted to put a link to it up as soon as I could, so that you have a chance to listen, if you're interested. (Although the BBC seems to be embracing the vision of podcasting, this particular programme isn't one that you can download as an MP3 or similar file, yet; so, catch it now or you'll have to hunt around for an illicitly-recorded version).

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One for the future...

Six writers vie for Orange prize

Maybe I'll get on the shortlist one day... Now, *that* would be "interesting"...! ;-)

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Fat Lip

Collagen implants; who needs them? Certainly not I. Well, not right now, at least. After a one hour electrolysis session that virtually cleared my top lip, I am the proud possessor of a pout about three times the normal size (my "trout pout", as my friend TJ puts it). For the next day or so. With luck, one more session and that part will be finished. Fortunately for me, most of my remaining facial hair is white (comes with being old)... except on my top lip, and immediately below my bottom lip, where it's very dark (and hence most noticeable after a day or so). So once they're cleared, I feel the finishing line is in sight, if still a way off.

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The Other Kind

It's been a while since I've recorded a new session of VoiceOver, but I'll be doing one in the next day or so (I'm just waiting on a permission to use a particular song). But, today (as every Monday) I spent the best part of six hours behind the wheel of my car, which gave me plenty of time to catch up on other people's podcasts, and play some music. One of the tracks that turned up was "The Other Kind", by Steve Earle. This track sits in the lower half of my personal "Top Ten Favourite Songs Of All Time". Actually, I can even remember the day I bought it; it was the day I flew off on honeymoon with my then wife, and I bought the cassette of "The Hard Way" (the 1990 album of which the song in question is the opening track) at Gatwick Airport before we boarded a flight to the Seychelles. The only other cassette I took with me was "Blue Sky Mining" by Midnight Oil; not sure what that (if anything) that says about me... still...

Steve Earle's lived an "interesting" life; and while I'm sure he didn't write this song with someone like me in mind, for me the lyrics are so poignant, so appropriate. And it is a great recording, too (in my opinion); when he was at the height of what I think of as his "shit-kickin', yee haw!" phase. ;-) Actually, I've enjoyed his recordings throughout his career, from his essentially country roots, through the southern rock period of "The Hard Way", up to his current folk leanings.

Anyway, courtesy of "The Original Unofficial Steve Earle Site", and since I played this song about ten times today (and which has been a good day, but more about that another time) I thought that the lyrics are good enough to stand here as vernacular poetry. If you haven't heard the song, I urge you to track down a copy. I think of it as my anthem to freedom; when I turn my own two wheels (Cruella) into the wind, the years (and cares) do indeed fall away with every mile.

The Other Kind
(Steve Earle)

I woke up this morning and I took a look around at all that I got
These days I've been lookin' in the mirror and wondering if that's me lookin' back or not
I'm still the apple of my mama's eye
I'm my daddy's worst fears realized
Here of late all this real estate don't seem all that real to me sometimes

I'm back out on that road again
Turn this beast into the wind
There are those that break and bend
I'm the other kind, I'm the other kind

Now my old buddy, what's his name, says, "Man what the hell are you thinkin' 'bout
Fool, you got two of everything, but you hang your head just like you was down and out"
And I'm damn sure not suffering from a lack of love
There's plenty more where that came from
Ah - but leave it up to me to say something wrong and hurt someone before I'm done

You see it used to be I was really free
I didn't need no gasoline to run
Before you could say Jack Kerouac you'd turn your back and I'd be gone
Yeah nowadays I got me two good wheels and I seek refuge in aluminum and steel
Aw, it takes me out there for just a little while
And the years fall away with every mile

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From the "if the cap fits" department...

Average managers treat all their employees the same. Great managers discover each individual's unique talents and bring these to the surface so everyone wins.

"... there is one quality that sets truly great managers apart from the rest: They discover what is unique about each person and then capitalize on it. Average managers play checkers, while great managers play chess. The difference? In checkers, all the pieces are uniform and move in the same way; they are interchangeable. You need to plan and coordinate their movements, certainly, but they all move at the same pace, on parallel paths. In chess, each type of piece moves in a different way, and you can't play if you don't know how each piece moves. More important, you won't win if you don't think carefully about how you move the pieces. Great managers know and value the unique abilities and even the eccentricities of their employees, and they learn how best to integrate them into a coordinated plan of attack.

This is the exact opposite of what great leaders do. Great leaders discover what is universal and capitalize on it. Their job is to rally people toward a better future. Leaders can succeed in this only when they can cut through differences of race, sex, age, nationality, and personality and, using stories and celebrating heroes, tap into those very few needs we all share. The job of a manager, meanwhile, is to turn one person's particular talent into performance. Managers will succeed only when they can identify and deploy the differences among people, challenging each employee to excel in his or her own way. This doesn't mean a leader can't be a manager or vice versa. But to excel at one or both, you must be aware of the very different skills each role requires."

Excerpt from Harvard Business Review.

[Via Harvard Business School Working Knowledge]

Back in the day, when John Adair and von Clausewitz were the leadership and strategy texts appropriate to the path I was on, I viewed the concept of leadership in a particular way. These days, my perspective is very different. The excerpt above nails it pretty well, in my opinion.

I've been thinking a lot about the role of managers and leaders over the last few weeks; particularly, when and why the roles, responsibilities and personalities specific to each role collide. And contrasting that with the organic strength that can be engendered when the diversity of a group can be harnessed, especially behind some shared value. The next post, which I read while pursuing other interests, sets a telling (for me) counterpoint:

The BlogHer Conference has been announced and registration is currently open. I want to see this conference be as diverse as possible - diverse along every axes imaginable. I need your help in organizing women bloggers from around the world with a million perspectives to attend. I'm also interested in adding things to the conference that will meet the needs of different types of women. For me, the goal of this conference is to build social solidarity amongst women. If you have ideas, please let me know.

But please spread the word. The key to success for this event is to get as many different women on board as possible.

There are some scholarships available and i'm hoping that we can find ways to fly women around the world in. Also, if you have any leads to making this possible, please let me know!

[Via apophenia]

Success by gathering people of as much diversity of experience and opinion as possible in a single place; what a novel idea! Maybe something that modern business managers and leaders might consider. Then again, maybe this essentially female notion (of building connections and community, rather than marking out territories) has no place in the cut-and-thrust land-grab of the modern corporate world.

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RE: YAL

Yet Another Linux! A lot of people are raving about the new desktop Linux package Ubuntu: Linux for Human Beings. Read this praise from Russell Beattie. They will even mail you free CDs that allow you to enjoy Linux from boot without touching your existing system. Device support and simplicity is supposed to be the best of any distro. I haven't had a chance to try it yet, but Ubuntu is definitely causing a lot of excitement.

[Via Leave It Behind > Brian Bailey]

Now, do I believe that, I asked myself...

Stuff waiting for a CD to be mailed (that is *so* last century! ;-) ) Courtesy of BitTorrent (actually, courtesy of BitComet, which I downloaded and installed having read Don Park's comments to Dave Winer, and let me tell you, BitComet works so sweetly through NAT on my broadband modem and wireless router, in a way that Azureus just never would, at least, not for me) I downloaded the Ubuntu Live CD image (the one from which, allegedly, you can boot a PC, without installing anything on your PC, and it just works). So, I'm a sceptical girl; I burn the CD, boot from it, tell it I'm a Brit, and... the wireless network doesn't work. "Huh!" thinks I, "so much for that"... well, it helps if you specify the WEP key, assuming you use WEP; so, one reboot back into Windows XP so I can retrieve my WEP key; reboot from the Ubuntu CD, type in the WEP key...

Everything works. A fully configured desktop, productivity applications, all free, all working. Respect!

And, I'm relieved that it didn't auto-configure the WEP key for me; that would rather have defeated the point of WEP, now, wouldn't it! And yes, I know that WEP isn't unbreakable, but really, I don't think I live in a hotbed of hackers, unless the deer roaming ouside have war-chalked the house, of course... ;-)

Fair play, guys; you set your stall out and have delivered. I'm now downloading the Install CD, will find some spare tin to install it on, and get my hands dirty. Despite being a professional Microsoftie (primarily, because SQL Server and Analysis Services don't run on Linux, and please don't make me laugh by suggesting that e.g. MySQL is "just as good" as SQL Server) there's plenty of other stuff I want to use for which Linux is appropriate, even ideal; and if getting a Linux box up and running is *this* easy, I can't see the point in delaying.

It takes a lot to impress me. Have a fully functioning desktop up and running from bare metal in about three minutes? Oh, I'm impressed.

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The fool in the game

Poker... I used to play quite a lot. And enjoyed playing the game immensely, although I haven't played for a few years now. It's a great forum in which to study people (always a topic of fascination for me), and is also rich in literature and beloved of writers and students of the human condition. You can learn a lot about life at the poker table.

I started thinking about poker again earlier this week, when I was invited to a social game next week. I'm inclined to play, just for the fun of it, but I don't plan on taking up the game again. However, the invitation prompted me to dredge up those snippets of wisdom I learned (sometimes the hard way) around the green baize; and two of them seem strangely poignant this week, both for me and for others of my acquaintance.

The first is the notion that "there's a fool in every game; if you look around the table and can't spot the fool in *your* game, then the fool is probably *you*!" Oh, how true that one is... and like many of the best lessons I've learned in life, it's one I'm most inclined to forget when I'm most in need of its guidance. Just at the moment, I'm carrying that one very close to my heart.

The other lesson is "never chase the pot". When you're playing a hand and have already bet on it, it's tempting to look at the pot (the money staked by you and all the other players who've bet on the hand) and say to yourself "I can't quit yet; X of that pot is *my* money, and I want it back; it'll only cost me Y to stay in, and I could win it all back, and more!" Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong... Once the money has been laid on the table, it is no longer *your* money. It is gone; it's a sunk cost. All that's yours is the stake you still own, and the cards that you hold. When the time comes for you to decide whether to bet again, you have to ignore the money you've already bet on the hand; the real questions are, how much will it cost you to bet *now*; how does that compare with the potential reward (i.e. the pot, of which *none* is *yours*); and what is the probability of you winning it (based on the hand you hold, the probability of getting the cards you need to make a "winning" hand, the cards your opponents hold, and everything they've revealed about themselves, their habits and giveaways (or "tells") in this hand and all the other you've seen them play before). Then, and only then, you make the decision to bet, check, raise, fold or see; and once you've made your decision, any new money you've bet is now gone, until the next round of betting. Until you can separate your thought process from the money you've already bet (or "invested", as some players will put it), guess who's the fool in your game?

What a fantastic analogy for life. How many times do we persist in a situation where we feel we have to stay in, because of all the time, effort or money we've invested up to that point? Emotion can sway the rational thought process; I've nothing against emotion (I think I'm one of the most emotional people I know, maybe to a fault) but sometimes it has no place, and at the poker table *your* emotion definitely has no place, in my opinion (whereas your ability to read the emotions of others is invaluable). And at the great poker table of life, knowing when to fold is crucial. You can win on a losing hand, if your opponents are convinced that your hand beats theirs; but adopting that as your habitual strategy could introduce you to the gutter sooner than you wish. You can only capitalise on a winning hand if you're still at the table, and still have a large enough stake to bet, raise or see. Fold when appropriate, nurse your stake, and be there to capitalise on a winning hand.

Great game, poker; great game, life. In neither do I intend to be the fool.

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RE: BBC opens up to podcasting

And the hits just keep on coming... some great news, in my opinion:

Podcasting's doing the business in radio. Virgin Radio are doing some great stuff, while Paul Gambaccini, Tony Blackburn and Wes Butters are among those lining up for a new site called Podshows.com. Now the Beeb is expanding its list of podcasts of popular shows, according to an announcement today.

[Via Online]

The BBC's announcement can be found here.

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RE: Pass Number - a struggle

A few weeks ago, I wrote about a colleague of mine; when I originally wrote that post, I wasn't sure if that colleague had an online presence, and so didn't feel it appropriate to name them. I've since discovered that he has, in fact, started to blog, so it's time to "name and shame" my friend and colleague Gautham. :-)

In one of his first posts, he recounts some difficulties which he's suffered in coming to grips with one of the more obscure (but powerful) aspects of MDX (the analytical language at the heart of Analysis Services 2000, one of the core platforms we develop on, and one of my areas of professional expertise).

CalculationPassNumber, CalculationCurrentPass are some functions of Analysis Services that I want to run away from, but it makes me sick to know that they are one of the most important functions to know whilst in an extremely, perhaps dreadfully complex calculation situations. I have been beating my head to understand this for quite sometime now but instead have learnt more about some other things in MDX and Analysis Services. Though my knowledge of MDX and Analysis Services is much better now but this "Pass Number" is something that is turning out be my worst struggle for knowledge.

[Via Gautham V Kamath]

I felt very guilty when I read this, because Gautham had asked me if I could explain all this to him, and, as has been my wont in recent months, I promised to do so, and then completely forgot that I had so promised. :-( And Gautham is far too much of a gentleman to remind me of my unfulfilled promise. Anyway, I've left a comment (which I hope will clarify things for him) on his blog post, and will follow up with him to make sure he's happy with the answer. So why blog about it here? Well, whether or not you've any interest in MDX, this episode illustrates a learning point which I've encountered many times, particularly when I was a technical educator, and I want to explore it a little further here.

The dilemma is this; the more knowledge, skill and experience you have with a particular tool-set (be it a programming language, like MDX, or physical tools like a chain saw or lathe) the more challenging the tasks you can tackle. Until you gain that knowledge, skill and experience, you may not recognise when it's appropriate to make effective use of a specific tool. *However*... learning the *use* of the tool, in isolation, may be difficult if you don't have a specific, relevant (to *you*) example on which to practise.

So, until you learn to use the tool, you may not realise it's the appropriate tool for certain problems; until you *have* a specific instance when it's appropriate to use the tool, you may not be able to learn to use it properly; and until you *have* learned to use it properly, you probably won't realise when that specific tool shoud be used.

In other words, a vicious circle.

As an educator, I want to transfer knowledge and skill so that the individual can develop the experience. With some tools, covering the theory is enough; how and when to apply the tool becomes immediately apparent. With other tools, the theory is *not* enough; you also need relevant (to the student) problem areas against which the student can immediately apply that theory, as they learn the skill, in order to develop their experience. These latter skills are the most challenging to teach; they're typically the highest value-add skills, but they're incredibly difficult to teach (or learn) in isolation. The former skills are the kind that can be learned from e.g. documentation and books; the latter can (in my opinion) only be learned through interaction with others who've already learned them. That interaction may be in a formal setting (e.g. in a classroom or through professional coaching) or in a more informal environment (e.g. internet discussion groups or personal networks). How can someone recognise that they might need to learn one of these *latter* skills, when they don't necessarily know what the skill is that they need to learn?

That's the key, learnable, transferable skill that I want to highlight in this post; recognise when you're working too hard.

I'm not a believer in using some flashy tool simply because it *is* flashy (or new, or sexy); the right tool, for the right job, at the right time, in the right way; that's what I aim for. From experience, I've populated my toolkit with a selection of tools, and the experience to know when to use them (and, just as importantly, when *not* to use them). How do I recognise when I need to add a new tool to my toolkit, or improve my skill with an existing tool?

Simple; when I'm working too hard.

That's the indicator that tells me when I'm missing a trick. I'm a simple, optimistic girl; I believe there's a simple, elegant way to do just about anything. If I'm trying to do something and it hurts, then that tells me I'm missing a trick. There's some tool I *should* be using; even though I may not know what it *is*, at least I now know to go and look. Which, for me, normally involves raising the issue in one of those informal environments where knowledgeable peers may respond. Once a new tool has been suggested, I can evaluate it, learn it, use it, and move on, until the next time.

So there's a two-fold lesson I'd commend to colleagues like Gautham (indeed, *all* students of some discipline)

1) If you're trying to *do* something and it's too hard, maybe you're missing some relevant *tool*; instead of giving yourself a headache, pause and ask someone whose perspective you trust;

2) If you're trying to *learn* something and it's too hard, maybe you're trying to learn it at the wrong *time*; store and use what you have learned, so that when you finally encounter a concrete instance when you'll need that skill, you stand a better chance of realising that *now* is the time to finish learning that skill.

Here endeth today's lesson! ;-)

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How much does winning mean to these two guys?

Valentino Rossi and Sete Gibernau, trading paintwork in the last laps of the opening round of the Moto GP from Jerez; think these guys are just turning up for a pay packet? I've never seen the like... if you didn't see the race (and I won't give away the result just yet) try and catch a replay. Just... astounding.

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RE: Tour of Duty

I just listened to the following ten minute piece (which turned up in the "Women in Podcasting" feed) and feel compelled to comment.

Before his second Iraq deployment, Army Specialist David Beals tried to kill himself. He received counseling and is now stationed in Tikrit. His wife told Weekend America she's worried that he's still troubled. We talk with an army psychiatrist about the trauma of war and treating soldiers on the frontlines.

[Via Weekend America, from the "Women in Podcasting" Blogdiggers list]

Before I say anything about my personal reactions to this piece, I will say that it emphasises, for me, the real power of audio over the written word; I could have read a transcript of the words in this piece, and responded to it; but the voices of the interviewees lend another level of impact entirely.

This piece covers one of the most heart-rending challenges faced by those who serve in the armed forces; how to cope with the mental health issues which arise, either as a result of what they've experienced, or at the same time as they're on active duty. Just to make clear my own perspective on this; although I never served in the regular forces, it was not for the want of trying. I helped to finance my way through University by serving in the reserve forces, was selected for training as a commissioned officer in an Infantry Batallion once I graduated, but was unable to pursue that path due to injuries received whilst serving in the reserve forces. And I have also dealt with mental health issues in my own life, including suicidal ideation. So yes, I feel qualified to comment.

I'd challenge anyone *not* to be moved by listening to Specialist Beals' wife Dawn Marie as she reads from one of his emails. How can she be feeling, knowing that someone she loves so much is going through such personal torment, thousands of miles away, leaving her powerless to help? What does she feel inside, knowing that the person she loves was so desperate that they attempted to end their life? Listen to her voice; then think about this.

This is not about cowardice. Are there cowards in the world? I don't doubt it for a moment. Does succumbing to combat stress make one a coward? No (in my opinion). Does responding to the turmoil of combat stress (or any stress-related condition; indeed, *any* mental health-related issue) by contemplating, attempting or committing suicide make one a coward? Again, in my opinion, no. Ever tried to take your own life? Ever felt the primal urge for self-preservation kick in to stop you, no matter how much you want the pain to stop? Ever considered that a completed suicide (I can't use the phrase "successful suicide") brings about exactly the end that someone who subscribes to the cowardice notion would assume the person is trying to avoid? No, sorry, there's something else going on, other than cowardice.

Whatever the events that lead someone to attempt (or even consider attempting) to take their own life, the attempt itself says one of two things (to me); that the person cannot take any more, and wants an end of it; or, that the person cannot take any more, and wants help to find a way of dealing with it. Personally, I never felt that any of my attempts fell into the second category; at the time I attempted them, I did not want to "fail", or be stopped. Truly, I wanted an end of it. Who is to say which applies in Specialist Beals' case; maybe *he* doesn't even know. Either way, here is someone who is patently in a bad place. It doesn't make them a bad *person*; personally, I have immense respect for those who face such personal turmoil and find a way through it, moreso than I have for people who have not been similarly tested (although I'm glad, for their sakes, that they haven't been tested in such an awful way). What does the US Army (or an employer, or a loved one) do when faced with someone in a situation like this? Did the Army respond correctly in this particular case?

There is a lot of experience to suggest that the best long-term outcomes, for the patient (I'll use that term for simplicity; nothing else is implied) come from removing the patient from the immediate situation, but only so far that immediate treatment, therapy and reasssurance can be given. At the earliest possible moment, the patient should be reintroduced as close to the triggering situation as possible, in as productive a capacity as possible. From dealing with shell-shock cases in the First World War onwards, the shame in feeling that you've "let your buddies down" is seen as one of the biggest hurdles to recovery; the sooner the patient is doing something that is palpably helping their buddies, even if not to the immediate extent of bearing arms beside them, the better. *If*... and it's a big if... appropriate support is available during that convalescence; and if the patient's buddies will accept them back again.

Specialist Beals describes being effectively ostracised by many in his unit. Whether he is or isn't, he *feels* as if that's happening. That can't help. Later on in the piece, it states that he has now been redeployed to a different unit where he has "access to psychiatric care". Excuse me? A soldier who attempted suicide in January and was deployed to Iraq in March was deployed to a unit where he *didn't* have access to psychiatric care? Is it just me, or does that sound vaguely moronic to anyone else?

These are just my personal reactions to hearing this piece. Inevitably, I have to draw parallels (and contrasts) with my own experiences. I think that redeploying is appropriate, as soon as the immediate crisis is over; but *not* if the receiving unit is then going to treat the recovering patient as a liability or pariah. That isn't going to help anyone.

Where are the parallels? In September, my memory, concentration and focus went walkabout, and I was completely floored by that. My employers took the sensible step of changing the area of my focus, and of spreading some of my responsibilities more widely. This required some of my colleagues to expand their knowledge in areas they'd maybe tended to shy away from. It meant that I could concentrate on being as productive as I could (in more tactically focused areas) so that my employers were still gaining some benefit from my presence. Arguably, now, we have an even stronger organisation; knowledge and skills that had tended to be concentrated in me are now much more widely deployed. That deployment may have happened out of necessity, but it *has* happened. Personally, I think that's been a good thing; I certainly don't feel threatened by it. As an educator, my goal has always been to develop the people who could replace me; as a professional, the challenge (indeed, the fun) has always been to stay at least one step ahead. ;-) I can't comment on whether I still have a significant part to play; the people who probably *could* comment, almost certainly won't.

Is there a shame to succumbing to mental illness? I don't think so; but obviously, I'm biased. Is there a place for people who have felt the impact of mental health issues in the Armed Forces? I believe so; in fact, I'd sooner know that the people charged with the defence of a nation and the pursuit of good works have a beating heart, so long as they've received whatever assistance is necessary to deal with their short-term issues. I, for one, wish Specialist Beals well, and hope that his wife Dawn Marie can bear the period before his return with courage; and that, on his return, he is honoured by his community as someone who has given all that he can (maybe, more than he was able to give, for a while at least) in the service of his country. And not scorned with unjust words like "coward".

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Hamsters ate my brain

(Warning; techie analogy alert) So, this has been a pretty "interesting" (in the sense of the old Chinese "blessing", "may you live in interesting times") few months. My memory has been going haywire, and with it, my concentration, focus and ability to get things done. And I can't begin to describe how upsetting that has been. It was tempting to blame this on the huge doses of hormones which my body was being subjected to... except that the perceived wisdom is that, normally, HRT has precisely the opposite effect. So that didn't seem to fit. That raised the spectre of some other physical cause; we'll see. Meanwhile, I've formed a hypothesis as to what's been happening to me; the upside is that, if my hypothesis is true, then "the bitch is back!" :-) The downside, such as it is, is that I can't quantitatively prove it, but I can, qualitatively; so, I thought I'd float the hypothesis here, and see whether other minds than just mine think that there might be any mileage in this.

The starting point is recognising that males and females think differently. This is not an Earth-shatteringly new concept, nor one I take any credit for. Whether or not there are structural differences between male and female brains (and my understanding is that there are) then *how* women approach a situation seems characteristically different. One description I've read (espoused by the psychiatrist Simon Baron-Cohen) is that females have an "empathising" brain (looking at someone's thoughts, feelings and emotions as a means to identify and predict behaviours) while males have a "systematising" brain (which investigates, analyses, classifies and imposes structure; or, at least, tries to). When I thought about that, I realised that, really, I do both, and always have; but the *mix* is changing. Maybe the mix is changing as a result of the change in my body's hormone balance; or maybe the social and personal changes to which those hormones are contributing is allowing the historically-repressed female aspect to gain a greater dominance. Which, personally, I see as no bad thing; except for the impact it has had on my memory.

Now, I *know* that my perceptions are changing, continually; how I see, respond to and record the things I see around me has altered dramatically as I've walked (and, at times, stumbled) along this path of transition. And that has been paralleled by my urge to *record* those changing perceptions. I think that's why I was drawn to the idea of starting this blog; whether consciously or subconsciously, I knew I needed a mechanism to reflect the changes I was experiencing. Consciously, I was hoping that starting to write again would rekindle that creative element which had pretty much gone into hibernation; subconsciously, I think I needed to give myself permission to absorb what was happening. The bottom line is, whether my current writings are self-indulgent or not, they're serving a purpose *for me*.

Recently, I've been pondering whether my memory issues were nothing more than my subconscious mind telling me "something's out of balance in your life; face it and fix it". Something I've learned is that, while I may not always understand why I'm subconsciously driven to do things at the time, I usually work it out afterwards. If that was so, what was out of balance, and how to fix it? I'm increasingly convinced that subsuming my creative impulses into quite an ordered, disciplined technical profession was the problem. At least, it *looked* like the problem. Here's an analogy that might help.

Part of what I do, professionally, is design databases. Which I've always considered both science, and art. The science part is that if you don't follow sound rules of good design, you end up with an unholy mess. The art part is two-fold; sometimes, you need to selectively break some of the rules in pursuit of a non-obvious goal; and sometimes you need to use creativity to extract the gold from the base ore. I've always believed that I brought equal parts scientific rigour and insight / creativity to the endeavour. Well, a key element of a database is the raw data; and typically, we store it in a series of tables, which are an unordered collection of similar "things". Because typically we need to find things in a hurry, we need to try to impose some kind of order on that, and one method is to use indexes. Of which there are various types, for different purposes. (My work colleagues know that I stress index analysis as a key component of performance optimisation; and, I beg to suggest, I'm very good at it). The right indexes at the right time are the key. When needs change, what were once the right indexes may become more hindrance than help. At which point, defragment, rebuild or discard those indexes.

Hypothesis: as my mind has switched emphasis during my transition, the old indexes (which used to be optimal for my "systematising" brain) have become sub-optimal. My increasingly "empathising" brain required different indexes to make use of my memories; and so it has been busily reindexing.

Now, as my colleagues may remember, when you change the indexing strategy, the situation typically gets worse for a while (expecially if you add, remove or alter a clustered index). But what if, in addition to changing the indexes, we change the *type* of indexes (e.g. to full-text, or bitmapped); the end result is that the same rows remain in the table, but *how* you find them changes completely. Because those indexes are designed to support different kinds of queries.

I think my increasingly "empathising" brain looked at the indexing strategy that had served my "systematising" brain so well, thought "that's not much use any more", junked it, and has spent the last few months rebuilding those indexes. Because I feel those memories are still there; I just need to learn how to access them differently.

Quirky? Mad? Maybe... but it makes a perverse kind of sense to *me*; by upbringing and training I have a very logical and scientific mind. By inclination (and, I believe, nature) I have a much more perceptive, holistic mind. The two have coexisted in uneasy peace for the most part, with periodic skirmishes and battles for control. Now, the balance of power has switched. And I think that it's switched sufficiently for the skirmishing to cease.

What does this mean, to me? I think that by giving my creativity an outlet (through writing) that I've denied it for so long, that my "systematising" skills are being restored to me. And the great part about *that* is that it gives me back the creative outlet that I always enjoyed in that area; other people understand elements of the technology areas I specialise in, and that's fine; but few, I believe, really grok them in the way I used to; and in the way I feel returning to me, day by day.

Yup, the bitch is back!

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Five numbers, an array of statistics, two tests and a landmark day

In a previous post, I spoke about the relief I felt on receiving my new passport; simply getting the "Sex" designator changed from M to F represented a significant emotional breakthrough for me. Yesterday, I felt the enormous pleasure of a similar breakthrough, when I arrived home to find my new driving license. Having set the precedent with my passport, getting my driving license changed should have been straightforward enough; but the combination of things I needed to change (including name, photograph and driver number, which incorporates the gender designation) meant that the only way I could do this in one go (according to the published procedures) would be to send my passport to the appropriate agency (the DVLA) and be without it for up to fourteen working days. For me, this was unacceptable; I'd invested so much emotional energy in getting that passport, I was not entrusting it to the internal mail handling of an enormous Government department. So, many phone calls later, I found an official with a beating heart at the DVLA who agreed that my application was in order, and suggested a route by which the change could be effected without my passport having to be sent. Application posted last Wednesday; new driving license arrived Monday! I, for one, am impressed, grateful... and pleased as punch! :-) On UK driving licenses, the driver number is three groups of characters; the second figure in the second group is the gender designator. 0 or 1 represents male; 5 or 6 represents female. From 0 to 5... boing!

Some days are good; yesterday just got progressively better as the day went on. First, I had an exemplary hour of facial electrolysis, in which my therapist was able to just work flat out for the full hour (I didn't even cough once, and that hasn't happened before), followed by fifteen minutes of genital electrolysis, which I didn't need to pause or cut short (and that's happened just once before). Then, I had a session of speech and language therapy, with extensive laryngograph tests. This statistical analysis showed that my pitch has lifted and my vocal consistency remains very good (i.e. my voice quality is stable across the range); and when I use my "best voice", I am now well inside female parameters (i.e. pitch range, mean, medium and mode fundamental frequencies) on *all* counts! :-) So, now I need to extend the length of time and range of circumstances in which I use that voice. Qualitatively, I knew there had been progress; I listened to some recordings I made some time ago (including the recording I made of the day I told my work colleagues about the changes they would be witnesses to); I can't reproduce that voice now even if I try (not that I would *want* to reproduce it!) I can't even really reproduce the speaking voice I had in December, before beginning speech and language therapy. I knew before yesterday that the tones and inflection patterns I use were already much more characteristically female; this statistical analysis just adds to that confirmation! Boing!

I mentioned in another previous post the whimsical notion of tracking my progress by means of unit tests; well, yesterday I passed two of them in one day. Frankly, that makes me feel... just great!

Yesterday was also of huge significance for all in the UK transgender community. The Gender Recognition Act 2004 (which basically enshrines our legal right to live in our "acquired gender") became law on 1 July 2004, but the mechanics of implementing the procedures and forming the bodies required to administer it needed to take place. Initially, "fast track" applicants only can apply (i.e. those who transitioned more than six years previously); although application packs were available from the beginning of this year, yesterday marked the first day that the newly-constituted Gender Recognition Panel sat to consider those applications. Personally, I won't be eligible to submit an application until October (and I'll probably wait to do so until after I've had gender reassignment surgery, which I hope will be early in 2006); but for all of us who have the dubious pleasure of living with gender dysphoria, this is yet another huge step forward towards something to which I believe we all aspire; i.e. fair and equal treatment under the law; no more, but certainly no less.

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I apologise for being stupid

Stupid, stupid, stupid... I *must* be losing my grip. Cart me off to the farm right now.

In this post, I expressed this view:

...I've just read two posts that appeared in quick succession on Dave Winer's "Scripting News" blog that confirm why I read his writing; which is that here is a guy who tells it from the heart, as he sees it, and truly doesn't give a f*** if others have a hard time with that aspect of himself. Which is a trait I admire, and also try to live by.

[Via Analysis (Services and Self)]

And, then, I allowed myself to get suckered into responding to a comment which picked me up for suggesting that someone believing what they write confers some special merit on their words, citing four specific, inflammatory examples (chosen, I suspect, precisely *because* they're inflammatory) to show I'm a klutz. The thing is, I didn't just say that someone had to believe what they write; what I *said* was that Dave Winer "tells it from the heart, as he sees it, **and truly doesn't give a f*** if others have a hard time with that aspect of himself**. " The double-stars surround the missing element; and, forgive me, but I don't think that could be said of any of the four personages cited in the comment. A conservative political commentator, a (I wouldn't know *how* to describe Ward Churchill), a "politician" (in the loosest possible sense) and a politician; but people, I suggest, who aren't adequately described by the part betweeen the double stars.

So, really, I *am* stupid; stupid for not realising that what I said was being taken out of context. I served my time debating in Usenet newsgroups; I used to be better at the game than this! ;-)

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Burn rubber on me

Suddenly it's spring... the weather has warmed up sufficiently that threats of snow or ice on the roads have pretty much gone until next winter. So, barring strong side-winds (which I loathe) I can plan on riding Cruella... well, whenever I want, really! :-) And the racing season is underway, with the second round of the World Superbike Championship today in Australia, the second round of the British Superbike Championship next weekend (at Thruxton, the fastest circuit on the calendar, and just a quick blast up the road from here) and the first round of Moto GP next weekend in Spain. And all, this year, available for viewing on terrestrial TV here in the UK! Motorbikes... some of the best moments of my life in the last few years have been directly or indirectly associated with them; yet I was reminded of one of the saddest and most painful aspects of my present situation when I walked past my bike on Thursday.

When I ride Cruella, all the worries, concerns and hassles of everyday life disappear. My senses are heightened, my concentration rises; it's just the sheer pleasure of me and the road. I could happily never sit behind the wheel of a car again (at least, not until I'm no longer able to ride) but not being able to ride again would be a terrible blow. Which is one reason why I'm so pleased that the TV documentary series in which I've been participating will (hopefully) include some juicy bike-related footage which we shot a couple of months back. Not just shots of me riding, but also me talking about biking, and the significance it has in my life.

Biking builds connections; not just transportation links, but connections between the people involved. For the last four years, I've been going to the World Superbikes race meeting at Brands Hatch, around the last weekend in July. I'll certainly be there for the whole meeting this year. I believe it holds the distinction of being Britain's largest spectator sport event; race-day over the last four years saw attendances of 120,000, 122,000, 126,000 and 115,000. Over the course of the the three day meeting, well over 200,000 people (closer, I believe, to 250,000) attend. I've never seen any trouble, nor heard reports of any, other than some road traffic incidents after the race which usually stem from some jerk thinking he's a race-track hero and finding out the hard way that he isn't. So many people, crammed into a natural amphitheatre, without hassle. Biking (as a rider, racer or spectator) builds connections.

It builds connections on a personal level, too. I didn't notice a single person give me even a sideways glance last year, when I was a lot less passable than I am now. My pal Andy, with whom I attended on the Saturday and Sunday (much as he enjoys it, he isn't quite the extreme fanatic you have to be to want to attend on Fridays, which is only about practice and qualifying) wasn't the slightest bit concerned about being seen obviously in my company; and why should he be?

Riding with friends is a real pleasure; but so is riding alone. One of my fondest memories is of a bright, clear day in 2001, which I spent riding around the South-West of Scotland visiting sites which had been used in the filming of The Wicker Man, still my all-time favourite film. (Incidentally, I learned recently that the film is being remade, with Nicholas Cage starring; I look forward to seeing the results!) I'd been house-sitting for friends, and waiting for a clear day to ride the route I'd planned. Scotland's weather was up to standard that summer (i.e. it sucked) but one day before my friends were due to return from holiday, the weather was fine. A perfect day.

A couple of months later, I rode back up to Scotland for a long weekend. We were going to the Knockhill round of the BSB on the Sunday, but on the Friday evening, five of us went for a ride through the Duke's Pass, a phenomenal piece of twisty, challenging riding. That evening, and for the ride-in on race-day, I had a pillion passenger; I didn't tell her until afterwards that I hadn't had a pillion passenger for, oh, seventeen years... but I don't think she noticed! :-)

And last Thursday, as I walked to my car, I remembered another pillion passenger I had ridden with a few times a couple of years ago. A troubled individual; someone whom I desperately wanted to connect with, but didn't know how to. And then, one day, I took them out for a ride on the bike; and we connected. It was wonderful. I didn't try to impress them, let alone frighten them (I could swing for bikers who frighten their passengers and potentially turn them off biking for life); I didn't need to. We needed few words, but I knew they were enjoying the experience as much as I. Bitterness and resentment (on both sides) disappeared; for a while, at least. We rode together again, a few times, and I really believed that we had found a common vocabulary, through which we could communicate in ways that words alone had failed us.

But then life intervened; and it was not to be. We no longer ride together... and three lives are, I believe, the poorer as a result. I know that mine is.

If only life were as simple as riding a motorbike.

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"Nothing more complicated than simple perception"

You're reading this post; and I have absolutely no idea *why*. Not that my not knowing is necessarily a bad thing, mind. ;-) My point is that you have your own reason for reading it, I don't know what your reason is, and that makes it rather difficult for me to continue earning the right to consume a few moments of your time by writing more posts that you'll choose to read. Instead, I have to conjecture why you might be reading my words, and decide how to continue that happy circumstance. While I would love to know your reasons, it's also curiously therapeutic *not* to know, and to play this game of conjecture. Tonight, I'm working on the hypothesis that one of the things that people find even slightly noteworthy about my writing is the way I look at things, i.e. the things I notice, the inferences I draw, and what I *do* about those inferences. Maybe I see and hear the same things as the next person, but I just respond to them differently. I noticed something yesterday which led me to feel great joy for someone, because it marked, I believe, a small but significant advance in their ability to get the most out of life; and at the same time, it made me think of a contrasting case, where someone of my acquaintance has, I think, a "deep, dark, secret" (or so they think; if I'm right, it's one of the worst-kept secrets *I've* ever seen), and their desperate fear of that secret getting out seems to greatly handicap their ability to enjoy life. Which makes me very sad, for them.

Why do we keep secrets about ourselves? I'm not referring to the simple secrets of daily life (such as what you've bought a loved one for a birthday present); no, I mean the secrets about aspects of ourself that we 'd rather were not common knowledge. Maybe, because we think it's nobody else's business but our own. Maybe because we fear the consequences (to ourselves, or to others) that might follow, *if* those secrets became public knowledge. Maybe because the information we hold secret has been entrusted to as with a solemn entreaty not to tell anyone else. There may be other reasons, but when I think about the secrets I keep or have kept, they seem to fall into those categories.

Personally, if someone entrusts me with a secret, I'll guard that secret to death. Whether or not I agree with their reasons for keeping it secret. I get a little annoyed when people make me privy to some information, and *then* entreat me to keep it secret; thanks a bunch, you've just added to my burden! ;-) If there's some reason why you want me to know, but then keep it to myself, I'd rather that you ask me first if I mind keeping your secret, before revealing it to me; that way, I can decline if I choose, and you don't have to tell me. Keeping someone else's secret, though, attests to your qualities of trustworthiness and faithfulness, and I respect that. To me, the problems arise from secrets which fall into the other two categories.

Because, in my opinion, secrets obtain power over us; more particularly, the fear that those secrets will become known spawns an intangible enemy whose harmful effect can far outweigh the actual consequences which might follow if the secret were uncovered. Not good.

I speak from experience. Between 1993 and 2003, I lived in mortal dread of the "terrible secret" of my transgendered status becoming known. I imagined all kinds of terrible consequences which would follow if that secret became public knowledge; tabloid newspapers camped out on my doorstep (or worse, the doorsteps of my friends and loved ones)... ostracism... discrimination... violence... the whole nine years. So, I took the understandable precaution of keeping that terrible secret locked up tighter than a drum. Oh, *that* was a strategy that really served me well! ;-)

But when I stopped keeping my "terrible secret", did the sky fall in? Did my life descend into pits of torment? Hardly! Suddenly, I was able to be as open or not as I chose; the fact is, it was no big deal to others. But, more than that, the intangible enemy vanished at a stroke. What was there to fear from discovery when there was nothing left to be discovered?

So, while it's tempting to keep aspects of yourself secret... it's also dangerous. I urge you, try to think of the very worst that could happen if your secret was discovered; notch the throttle back to reality a little, and try to establish what happened to others (who kept a similar secret to your own) when *their* secret was revealed (whether by their choice or not); and compare that with the damage that your own fear of your secret being discovered is actually having on you. If the maths don't equate, ask yourself whether you are in charge of your secrets; or are your secrets in charge of *you*.

Anyway... today, I saw a tiny but significant sign of someone loosening their grip on their own "terrible secret"; a secret which (to me, at least) seems no big deal at all. And I believe (and hope) that the person concerned will be repaid many times over in peace of mind and simple pleasure from life, by being less burdened by their secret than they were. Respect!

Which is a sad contrast with another person of my acquaintance, whose "terrible secret" seems to consume them. To the best of my knowledge, all of the mutual acquaintances I share with that person believe the same as I do, that this "terrible secret" is a reality; and to none of us it is anything other than an aspect of the person, no more or less noteworthy than the colour of their hair or the size of their shoes. But the person concerned carries this burden around like Atlas carrying the world on their shoulders, and seems to live a pale shadow of a life as a result.

I weep in sadness for the person concerned.

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Why I read Dave Winer's posts

In a little while, I'll have finished writing a post which refers to the issue of *not* knowing why people read your work making it that much harder to continue satisfying them. Maybe that's a good thing, in the sense that by *not* playing to the audience, you remain true to yourself; maybe it's a bad thing, because you run the risk of losing your audience and thus lose the chance to put your thoughts in front of those who may benefit most from them. I don't have an answer to that conundrum; I suspect there *is* no single right answer. Either way, I've just read two posts that appeared in quick succession on Dave Winer's "Scripting News" blog that confirm why I read his writing; which is that here is a guy who tells it from the heart, as he sees it, and truly doesn't give a f*** if others have a hard time with that aspect of himself. Which is a trait I admire, and also try to live by.

Anyway, the first post shows someone *not* leaping on an inevitable topical bandwagon:

Listening to the endless radio "coverage" of the Pope's death, it's remarkable how unbalanced it is. They have priests, saying we all know deep inside the Pope was right about everything. Hello. Earth to Catholics. The Pope was a good PR guy, but come on, he was against birth control. The Catholics actually burned condoms in AIDS-plagued Africa. Now would be a great opportunity for some of the real reporting the pros are so famous for. Instead they're running an endless infomercial for the Catholic Church. Hey the Catholics are the church of sin and hell, fire and brimstone. If ever there were an opportunity to be balanced this is it. No more footsie? Heh, yeah sure.

[Via Scripting News]

Now, I could take personal exception to the attitudes expressed by the Pope (and many in organised religions) about people like myself; but hey, they're just as entitled to their opinions as I am. The example Dave cites, though, gives a telling and concrete instance where one group's dogma needlessly costs lives. No matter how admirable the Pope's qualities as a person, it doesn't compensate for lives unnecessarily lost. In my opinion.

In the other post, he reinforces another long-held opinion of mine, i.e. that a good measure of a person's contribution to a debate is less about the friends he keeps, and more about the enemies he makes:

Scoble is a man of respect. "My co-author Shel Israel gave me heck for being too nice to my fellow bloggers." Right on. Too much footsie in the blogosphere. Enough. Just the facts please. Enough telling me about your friends. Make some new enemies for a change.

[Via Scripting News]

I think the public difference of opinions between himself and Adam Curry over the future of podcasting, or his issues with the EFF and Cory Doctorow on the issues of copyright raised by pervasive linking technologies such as Google's also attests to his willingness to stand up for what he believes in. Bottom line; while I may not always agree with what he *says*, I know that what he says is what he believes. Really, I don't ask for more than that from a commentator.

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RE: CrossOver Session Six: "Whats in my bag?"

Now online (MP3, 2.8 MB, 11 minutes 50 seconds) - in which I discuss the contents of my make-up bag, and how I use them! :-)



I'm trying yet more new recording techniques in this session, in an attempt to improve the sound quality while keeping the file size down; I'd appreciate any feedback on that aspect, as well as the content.



See the shownotes (HTML, OPML) for relevant links.

[Via CrossOverPodcast]

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Closing the "Can of Worms"

I've received sufficient feedback (and some perspectives that, simply, hadn't occurred to me) that I can see that it would be a good thing to write a book. So I will.

That is all. For now. (See, James, how brief and concise is *that*?) ;-)

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