I’m sat downstairs in my house in Shropshire, sipping Rioja and listening to Green Day and trying to imagine music which more resonates with the decade in which we of Orwell’s blight came of age. This is the last year of the ’90s being only last decade. Everyone born in the ’70s will soon be at least 30, and everyone in the 80’s will be in their 20’s; and a generation of kids is already asking: “Pearl Jam?” Another turning point, another fork stuck in the road…

So, was the decade before last good riddance? Was it worth all the while? I need to change the song, hang on…

I did most of my conscious growing up in the decade between shoulder-pads and Thundercats and the WWW. But has much changed? Am I too young to be talking nostalgically about 1990, or are you (if you thought that) getting older than you’d care to admit?

It may be lazy thinking, but I seem to picture the 1990’s as a decade of lasts. It was the last decade in which one could smoke in restaurants, and I am of the last generation which will remember hazy rooms filled with acrid plumes. I’ve lived my whole life thinking of the 1960’s as being the last decade of innocence—as the countless documentaries have explored—but I’m not convinced. Partly, I suppose, because everyone who can remember anything of significance from that period is middle-aged, and it’s difficult to imagine anyone over 45 being all that innocent. But I think something has changed since the 90’s. The ever-shrinking world of the 20th century seems to have expanded once again. Surely, the fallen towers in New York have become a gateway to a time before the Patriot Act and general fear and doubt; but I feel I’ve watched the country of my birth becoming less and less sure of itself and more terrified and confused since the end of the 90’s. Ah, maybe that’s it?

I left only a year after Y2K and the Millennium Bug ruined civilisation, and have been observing the US with the eyes of the 1990’s. My world has been getting bigger, and possibly less scary in comparison. The more people I meet and the more I hear their stories, the more I feel the world isn’t as scary nor as closed-off. Different has become less frightening to me.

What has this got to do with the 1990’s? I’m not sure, really. It was the last decade in which I called myself an American without having to think twice. It was the decade before I started to watch the US turn in on itself from outside its—increasingly armed—borders.

I wonder whether out parents would think of the 90’s as a decade of lasts? Would it be a decade of middles?

I’ve always found it difficult to blog about truly emotive things. I might get worked up over a technological failing or annoyed about a political situation, but these things are abstractions: I can hold them out and have a look at them. Something held close to my chest, though? Well, it’s too close for comfort—too close to see very well myself—and I feel a bit like I’ve let people down by not writing about them.

I also use this blog for a combination of personal publishing and work-scribbling. It’s been a place where I publish thoughts which aren’t quite right for a work post or for a mainstream article, but help me on my way toward either. This leaves me slightly divided as to what I’d include here. But, this is my place, and I feel like it should contain some of my recent thoughts. Besides, a wise friend once told me that life’s not really easily divided into groups, so why split up your own thoughts?

Back in February, I received a short message from my brother: “Call me, Grandpa’s not well.” What followed were dozens of difficult phone conversations with family over in Colorado as I patched together exactly what was going on. From what I worked out Grandpa had been helping a neighbour split wood for their fire when he collapsed and was taken to hospital. For a couple days, I was awake at odd hours working out what time I could phone without waking family in the middle of the night to find out more. The outlook wasn’t good, and a sort of pathetic play-by-play followed as the doctors’ diagnoses, plans, and prospects were relayed through three or four people before reaching me. Late one evening, I heard he hadn’t made it. He seemed to have had a good morning, for a Grandpa. He’d already had a breakfast party with his closest friends, driven out to his beloved house in the hills to wade through his collection of tools and his last conscious act on earth was helping his elderly neighbour.

As the patriarch of our huge family, the loss was stunning. Life has a Grandpa in it, and he lives in an amazing cabin in the hills. He cooks barbecues, and he threatens to cut your hair if you don’t behave. His bear-hugs are both welcome and terrifying, but he protects you from the real bears and I still can’t quite imagine a life without a Grandpa.

Last week, I received a short message: “Call me, it’s important.”

What followed was another surreal conversation, from which I learned that a good friend of mine would no longer be sharing banter about code and beer. A year ago, I’d met Leu when I sent out a call to any geeks and techies in Shropshire. Together we began the Shropshire Geek Society, which has been a monthly gathering at pubs to celebrate all things geeky. Many times, when stuck with a problem, Leu would have a solution or work-round for me before I’d even framed the question. He was a brilliant coder, and always good for an anecdote at geeky get-togethers. But more than that, Leu seemed to really get people. His concern was staggering, and I have rarely met a kinder person. After dropping him at his house after a particularly late geek night, he said: “Make sure you let me know when you get home [an hour away], I’ll be awake.”

It’s been a week since the phone call, and at least three times I’ve gone to share a story with Leu and stopped at the send button.

The thing Leu and my Grandpa had in common was a special heart.

Grandpa was always there, looking after me and my many cousins: compassionate and stern. Solid.

Leu was a fast and fierce friend, who—though I’d only known him for a year or so—felt like someone I’d grown up with.

A heart is something we don’t consider often, unless we’re reminded. From the top of the Shropshire hills, my own heart often reminds me it’s there. This year, it’s percussive reminder has taken on a special meaning.

British Heart Foundation

|This article first appeared in Nodalities Magazine, CC By + SA

For anyone following the Nodalities blog, you may have read some of my recent posts discussing the trends boiling up around Web 3.0 (other buzzwords are available). The Mobile Web and upgraded connectivity in general; the rise of ubiquitous computing from chips in every product imaginable; Linked Data and the “Semantic Web” as an organising platform for this rising tide of data—these are three very broad trends seeing a lot of media attention presently. From where I’m standing, I tend to see the next great turning point of the Web as a convergence of some of these trends, and see it as a rise in the importance of and reliance upon data itself and data tools generally.

The mobile web is bringing new sorts of information to people, and they can make use of this info wherever they happen to be because of advances in devices ad connectivity. As phones and web-enabled devices get better, so to do the chips we seem to have embedded all over the place, and we can now begin to have a more clear picture of what we do through the information we gather from our heaters, cars, and pedometers. Also, as more objects become connected, the grunt-work of number-crunching and storage is becoming commoditised into big, efficient, utility-like cloud services, which host and work with our collected information much more effectively than the gadget in your hand could ever hope to do. Others, like us here at Talis, talk about the Semantic Web, which allows for an evolution from a bunch of connected documents to the explicit connections between bits of information.

Also fermenting in this mix is a strengthening trend of political transparency and a public, shared ownership of social data. Barack Obama’s new administration has clearly made this a priority with the launch and work around data.gov; and in the UK, Sir Tim Berners-Lee himself has been appointed to an Parliamentary advisory role. There is growing pressure to be able to have access to public data, and to see it as belonging to the nation’s people rather than allowed to be legitimately filed away in the great, locked bureau of the capitols.

So, picking up two fairly obvious trends here: Social, Public Data and Linked Data; it would seem to follow that people would begin to have access to previously unavailable information in usable, linked forms. And it’s certainly beginning, as articles elsewhere in this magazine have illustrated. But, what about other chunks of public data? What about when data comes from universities, institutions, scientific foundations and NGO’s? What about charities monitoring crime, CO2 emissions and family histories? Wouldn’t these make a useful piece in the web of social data? What resources have the governments themselves got, if they want to make their public-owned data available in a useful format?

These questions form a major part of the thinking behind Talis’ Connected Commons initiative (talis.com/cc). Basically, Talis has made its Semantic Web platform (including data hosting and access tools) available free of charge for any datasets made available to the public. In doing so, we’re hoping to remove the barrier of cost entirely to publishing interesting data in a Linked Data way. One major reason for this is to promote reuse and mashups of this interesting data, and for people to be able to “follow their noses” to the data that completes their projects. But, from a publishers’ perspective, this is important, because it’s removing a major reason not to bother with making data useful, if not only public. So, with this, data can be made public and useable and the developers and users get the benefit of public SPARQL endpoints and API access to interesting data.

To keep the data open and public, datasets need to make use of either the Public Domain Dedication and License (PDDL) or Creative Commons’ CC0 license. Ian Davis, in his article in this magazine, explains more about waivers and the Connected Commons, and there is a lot more about this particular initiative over on the Talis site (talis.com/platform/cc/faqs/).

In a recent interview with the BBC, Sir Tim said: “This is our data. This is our taxpayers’ money which has created this data, so I would like to be able to see it, please.” I wonder if initiatives such as Connected Commons will begin to remove excuses, hindrances, and obstacles? As public awareness of the importance of access gets hotter, this might become a political issue, as well as a pragmatic one. I hope that in the rush to publish data, and in the ensuing discussion and debate that follows, that the users, hackers and developers don’t get sidelined. I think the world is ready for its data back.

|This first appeared as a guest post on ReadWriteWeb, republished with kind permission

Journalism has always been about reporting facts and assertions and making sense of world affairs. No news there. But as we move further into the 21st century, we will have to increasingly rely on “data” to feed our stories, to the point that “data-driven reporting” becomes second nature to journalists.

The shift from facts to data is subtle and makes perfect sense. You could that say data are facts, with the difference that they can be computed, analyzed, and made use of in a more abstract way, especially by a computer.

With this mindset, finding mainstream data-driven stories doesn’t take long at all. A quick scan of the Guardian’s home page tells us that swine flu cases are up by 50%, according to “fresh figures…[that] will be released this afternoon.” The story here is that we’re in danger because swine flu is on the rise. Reporting the current figures available for swine flu alone wouldn’t be all that interesting. The news comes from comparing the current figures to last week’s, which is a very simple form of data analysis. By making use of published data and running one’s own analysis (and building on the analysis of others), we get something very news-worthy indeed. It moves the definition ever so slightly, from “saying and asserting” to “analyzing and publishing.” But it obviously works only for data that is accessible.

There is nothing new about pointing out the importance of public data being made available. Sir Tim Berners-Lee has discussed at length the importance of governments and institutions putting their data online, making it accessible and useful. His TED talk and interviews with ReadWriteWeb and Talis (disclosure: I am a blogger at Talis) all explain his belief that by publishing linked data we can begin to solve many of the problems the world faces. Innovations in medicine, science, and development could all be achieved if only currently hidden data were made available. Data-driven journalism could be the first step in realizing this dream. The best stories would then come from innovators who read about trends reported in news media and are then able to draw new conclusions and solve bigger problems. In his recent discussion with BBC, Berners-Lee said that the next step is to go for low-hanging fruit by just getting the data out there.

Thus far, this has made a lot of sense to me, and I have been tracking the publication of linked data and increasing access to public knowledge as emerging trends over at Talis. But my perspective has shifted a bit in the past few weeks.

First, there was data.gov and President Obama’s call for more access to government data. A sitting head of state (and one of some significance) was clearly calling for public access to government data: this was news! But the idea has been discussed, praised, and debated for a while since then and may have lost some of its luster.

Then about a month ago, UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown made it part of his digital strategy to prioritize the publication of government information. He asked Sir Tim personally “to help us drive the opening up of access to Government data in the web over the coming months” and appointed Berners-Lee an official governmental adviser. By now, neither of these stories is news and comparisons between the initiatives have been made.

The Guardian newspaper recently launched its own Data Blog, with the intention of letting readers access, mash up, and reuse much of its information in the form of data, which could in turn drive stories.

What is perhaps not as explicitly recognized is the voracious appetite for data that has been apparent for months. It is less about turning good ideas into stories and more about seeing how data informs our understanding of events happening right now. Each new initiative is another piece of low-hanging fruit picked.

Access to data is important: it drives innovation and even social change. Governments that publish their data have to become more transparent. Humanitarian organizations that make their findings known could spark bigger projects and source innovative solutions from their communities. Scientific findings and raw information could be used to solve bigger problems than the result of a single experiment or trial could ever manage. Even the simple comparison of two or more facts can lead to new insight, and all of these things happen only when the walls around an institution become porous.

2009 could become known as the year of data, the year of open access, or the year of the semantic Web (see links above for how this relates), and it may also be the first year when it becomes news that data wasn’t published in a story when it should have been. That a government body isn’t being transparent or is blocking access by publishing its findings in PDF or other non-linking formats would make a very interesting story indeed. We can expect to see more and more organizations and public bodies remove their own barriers through initiatives and legislation. Examples have been set, and seeing excuses die along with barriers is not far-fetched.

Do you know of other data-driven stories? We’d love to hear about any insights that were made through publicly accessible data or where this data might come from next.

Guest author: Zach Beauvais is a Platform Evangelist for Talis and editor of Nodalities Magazine.

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• Sir Tim Berners-Lee talks to the BBC’s Rory Cellan-Jones about Linked Data (cloudofdata.com)
• How Open is ‘Open’ ? (cloudofdata.com)
• Interesting semantic web stuff (derivadow.com)

I read yesterday that twitter has been banned from the White House. In the post, Marshall Kirkpatrick joked that this could be a reason we haven’t seen much from Obama’s twitter stream recently. I must admit however, my initial reaction was sympathetic with the White House for pragmatic reasons, though the attitude of the Press Secretary’s attitude towards “twitterers” did raise the hackles. It makes sense to be secure in the White House, to make sure people aren’t saying things which could be dangerous or cause scandal through carelessness. “Loose lips sink ships”, don’t they?

But I think there is a wider idea here, which I think I’ve glimpsed between the lines.

about 8 hours ago from Tweetie...

However, I also use twitter to share news. When my grandfather recently passed away, I received dozens of messages of encouragement and sympathy. Several of us here in Shropshire organise a monthly get together to network and discuss tech-trends and the work we do through the @shropgeek. Important announcements at work, and shared interest groups often rely on twitter for their spread and response, and I’ve had customer service reps from big companies personally respond to my feedback. Of far more significance, the government of Iran was unable to stop twitter, allowing its citizens to tell the rest of the world what was going on when all other forms of communication were censored, blocked, or monitored. And citizens from around the rest of the world responded.

twitter is a medium, and suggesting someone is petty and fatuous because they use it is like suggesting everyone on TV is unimportant or vain. There is no connection between the inane talk-show host and the investigative journalist or head of state! The point is in the message, not the vehicle. But, the point this raises in my mind is that twitter, and other forms of web-enabled channels make for a high level of transparency, and I don’t think the US (in particular) is a power who likes transparency at the moment.

This has lead me to question what I think of the use of web-media by politicians and important figures, particularly in the US and UK. It makes me wonder whether the “Loose lips” philosophy is misguided in the modern world. You see, closing channels, blocking communication, and monitoring messages suggests a democracy that doesn’t trust its citizens with the truth. Sure, there are controls and securities which must be in place, and I’m not suggesting for a moment that every clerk should have a constitutional right to twitter state-secrets…

…or am I?

You see, the United States is global super-power on par with, and probably only directly comparable with great states of the past called Empires. The notion of an emperor of the US would chill the blood of most of my family, and thinking of the US as anything but a “democracy” is practically heresy. After all, citizens’ rights are ensconced in the very foundation myth and history of the US itself. “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal…” begins a letter to a despotic monarch, sparking off the touch-pad for liberating men from the rule of figureheads, class and social bondage. But part of this very myth* that the Republic, “of the people, by the people and for the people” should be based on citizenship trusted to look after themselves and even take up arms to defend their status as such citizens. There is a deep-running notion in the American psyche that if the government were ever to get too big for it’s boots, it is the right—nay, duty—of her citizens to act to reduce her power.

But I don’t believe the US is a state that can be corrected by its citizens very effectively at all. I think of the complexity, size, presence and byzantine nature of the US Government, and I feel disconnected, small, and powerless to change anything. Over the past decade, in the name of security, Americans put up with reductions in liberty, and I think this principle is bleeding through the cracks in the facade of governance. Blocking channels is saying: “we don’t trust you”.

What would a country look like where the public had access to the vast majority of government information? Where government officially made use of the media its citizens used? Where government officials were held accountable via the various media whenever they were caught being mis-represented?

Oddly, I think it’s the UK.

The “traditional” media here are a powerful force. It is seen as a near human right to have intimate news of public officials and dealings, and watching politicians being interviewed by members of the press is like eaves-dropping on a job interview or witnessing a cautious father’s first meeting of a prospective suitor for his only daughter. The press is a force to be reckoned with here, and it’s not seen as the trustworthy force itself, but is is composed of citizens, not officials.

Does this scandalise the government? Yes… and no. There is a very different attitude toward elected officials here, which doesn’t translate easily to American. A Member of Parliament is legally referred to as “Honourable Member”, but the “honourable” is not taken as read by the average Brit. For decades, for example, Members of Parliament have enjoyed a system of expenses whereby they can claim for nearly every cost of living: from second homes to food and utilities. The true level of this feeding-trough has recently been blown wide by the press (who subsequently have been enjoying their own self-congratulatory feast, but that is another post.)

But, I think the UK get the web, probably because it’s used to dealing with powerful media. I follow Number 10 Downing Street (the metonymic residence of the Prime Minister) on twitter. No 10 doesn’t say much, and I don’t think it’s going to expose any state secrets, but I like the fact that it’s there to be engaged. The Office of Public Sector Information (OPSI) hosts an important blog which outlines the government’s plans to expose public data for normal, every-day citizens to have a play with and to see what’s going on.

And, in the last few weeks, the Prime Minister himself has turned himself around almost 180º in my personal opinion. He represents a party for whom I have less time than either of the other major contenders, and I’ve rather lazily accepted him as an incompetent oaf. But, he’s finally earned my pint and invite to dinner, if not my vote (if any of his secretaries are reading this, just tweet your acceptance, and I’ll find some pheasants and Pinotage). A few weeks ago, he appointed Sir Tim Berners-Lee to a Parliamentary advisory role with the explicit intention of opening up and pushing public data online. This is a major point, because it leads to transparency through public accountability. There seems to be a movement for Parliament to see public data as belonging to the people who bought it with their taxes, and this seems to be the most democratic way to see it. His recent TED talk also made me think he’s got a lot more to say than he perhaps has to date; though I think many of his points raise more questions than they answer.

Much has been said in the online world about the new American administration’s use of social media and the web to mobilise supporters during the election. But there hasn’t been much since. President Obama launched data.gov, but there is very little data there. I think the web is seen as a tool for messages, as a part of a bigger campaign, and as a security breach. It’s something to be used with your own agenda, and only under one’s own strict parameters. And, perhaps most non-democratically, it’s been used to broadcast and to cajole—It has not been used to engage. The fact that social media have barely been touched since the election could point to a wider attitude that citizens only matter for the brief time they’re required to vote.

The UK has already exposed much of its public data, and it’s planning to publish more and more as Linked Data (machine-readable, immediately useful resources), and it’s made plans to be more open, grasping the web and the transparency it’s brought through the hard lessons that spin is impossible with a well-informed citizenry, and on the Open Web, there is less room for your own message than there is for humanity.

*mythos is greek for “story”, and it is from that perspective I use the word myth: that it conveys the notion of a commonly-held understanding, not that it is entirely fantastic or without truth.

So, Wordpress 2.8 is great! I love the interface, the drag/drop, the ajaxed admin area and loads of other features. Unfortunately, it’s also broken.

My problem occurs when I update plugins. Whenever a WP plugin needs updating, the automated system has failed to reactivate it every single time. Unfortunately, it also removes the plugin entirely, leaving  me without that functionality. This is particularly annoying when it removes tracking codes, so I can’t see how many folks have been on my site!

So, I’m going to have to reinstall it from scratch. If the theme is jumpy, or something’s missing, it’s probably for that reason. Hopefully, it’ll all be back up and running soon, with plugins working nicely, and all my content secured.

… hopefully!

Image: “Bench Removed for Maintenance” by andyrob Creative Commons Licensed via flickr.

At lunch time today, I learned from a tweet that UK Home Secretary, the Right Honorable Jacqui Smith will resign as soon as convenient to the Prime Minister. Most sources seem to cite the now cliched “expenses scandal” as the main reason, but also mention various moments of Home Secretarial chagrin.

My initial reaction was one of elation. “Finally, and not too soon!” is a sentence too easily thought about someone I think has done more to damage the UK than any one holding power in the last decade.

But this is not how I want her to be remembered. I do not want her to have gone because of a media-fueled feeding frenzy of shame for her expenses or her husband’s use of public funding to watch porn.

Maybe I should clarify?

Last February, I wrote a piece about the Home Secretary which still attracts concerned comments. It told my story of how her tough stand on immigration affects the legitimate, the law-abiding, and the defenseless rather than dealing with any perceived threat by illegal immigrants, migrant workers, or European nationals.

Jaccui Smith should resign because she used a misleading public story to back plans which bring shame and financial hardship to people.

One of the most controversial campaigns Ms Smith backed was one to introduce compulsory ID cards to the UK. She claimed that people would willingly sign up to such a scheme, and much talk of fighting terrorism with these bits of plastic ensued. This is a lie, really. People don’t want it—or, at least, the majority of people don’t seem to want to spend their money on them. Oh, yes. Not only is the scheme hugely expensive to the public, but individuals will have to buy them themselves. The card could cost £30, £60 or £93, depending on which confused source reported the cost [1]. The scheme itself will cost the UK taxpayers around £5bn with an additional £375mn coming from foreign nationals, who will be the first victims of the programme.

The ID cards information produced by the Home Office itself reads, to this linguist at least, shockingly like propaganda. It produces press releases such as this one, which appear to show an eagerness which belies the fact that nearly every mention I’ve seen in media regarding the scheme has contained the word “Controversial”. It has proven so controversial, indeed, that the latest report I read showed that the Home Office seems to have changed its mind massively. This leads me to believe that the Home Office misleads, both in content and in linguistic implication through its own media.

Jacqui Smith should resign because her policy to introduce ID cards is not democratically supported, is questionable and expensive, and her promotion of the scheme is biased and untrue.

On any number of profiles trying to make sense of or summarise Ms. Smith’s career, another low point has been the proposal to allow imprisonment without charge for 42-days of suspected terrorists. This has proven controversial (simply search for “Jacqui Smith 42 days” to see.) and demonstrates Ms Smith’s disregard for the ancient principle of due process. The Proposal was mercifully scrapped last year.

Jacqui Smith should resign because her principles do not include thousand-year-old fundamentals of basic citizens’ rights.

Not everything undertaken by Ms Smith has been terrible. Throughout a mixed career, it should be mentioned that she held her ground, proved resiliant, and handled difficulties well (until now). The Right Honourable Jacqui Smith, MP has been the UK’s first female Home Secretary, and no doubt worked very hard. However, this was expected of an MP, and a Home Secretary should handle her job well, which is why it is news when this has not been the case.

Ms. Smith has been forced out of office following news of the least-damaging scandal. Shame on the media for blowing out of perspective the theft of several thousand pounds in claimed expenses in the light of a proposed spend of £5bn to encumber citizens and ostracize legitimate foreign nationals. Shame on the reporting that claims her husband’s silly use of £10 to watch porn should take precedent for misleading a nation, trying to create and enforce draconian laws and damaging the reputation of a great democracy.

[1]: It should be noted that the £93 claim is old, and that the Home Office seems to say most recently that the cards will cost £30 for early adopters and rise to £60 after two years.

Additional ID Card Stories include: Scotland refuses to back them., and some initial concern about the cost raised by the LSE.

Image: “Jacqui Smith at anti-binge drinking launch” by “photographyjournal” via flickr

Talis, my employer, has been a big promoter of Linked Data and open-access to information, because we see that new ideas often arise when existing ideas come together. Innovation, if you like, occurs at the join between ideas when they connect. I see this as fundamental to the way ideas and their applications (technology) advance. I tend to believe that anything “novel” is actually affected when other ideas are connected together.

In the technological world, this seems like a strong analogy for Linked Data: information which can be connected by a web-like network of links. These Linked Data have become the foundation for what has come to be known as the “Semantic Web”, a web of connected information which breaks out of information silos and enables the discovery of new ideas from old, and innovation from existing information. We use the phrase “serendipitous reuse” for the idea that once an idea (or a piece of data) is published, it can be used and reused in novel ways and in context of other data to produce unexpected, and unforeseeable possibilities. These ideas (data, again) become increasingly useful when published in a format which allows them to be linked freely to ANY other piece of information. We’ve had the distribution method for this network for years (the good, ol WWW itself) and it’s been about a year since RDF was launched by the WWW Consortium to handle the data itself. The idea is basically to give every bit of data an address (a universal address, not one subjective to a database like a cell reference), and to predicate that bit of information very much like language does. If you think of it like a language, RDF lets bits of data (nouns) to be acted upon or act upon (verbs) others (other nouns). This triple-format enables a near infinite recombination (theoretically) of any data, anywhere with an address.

So, what’s the problem? Well, most of the world’s data are locked away in silos (prisoners of the cells their databases confine them to). Many organisations may wish to make use of their data in a semantic environment, and many might even embrace the Open-source nature of their data, and make it freely available to the world to recombine and use: there are always more innovations outside an organisation than within! In order to lower barriers to enter this linked data world, Talis has built a Platform with resources to host and utilise these connections, making use of semantic web standards (RDF and SPARQL, the query language of the semantic web) and a developer-friendly environment (a RESTFul API, for example).

However, this innovation is only possible when data are accessible. In order to further lower the barriers, Talis is now offering free access to the Platform to host public domain data. We are calling this initiative the Talis Connected Commons, and the offer is not limited to free hosting: the data access services, including access to a public SPARQL endpoint, are also freely available. To keep this data open, you will need to use either the Open Data Commons Public Domain Dedication and License or the recently launched Creative Commons CC0 license to publish data. Anyone will then be able to freely access the stored data using the Platform services, without API keys and without usage limits.

There is more information available at www.talis.com/cc, where you can find detailed technical information, FAQ’s and other resources.

Image: “Eggistentialism 1.5 or Three of a Perfect Pair” by bitzcelt (via flickr), CC Licensed

When Lucas joined our household, I knew he’d make a great working dog. His sire was a steady, dependable sort who is used for picking up, and Lucas took immediately to retrieving. Not only do I like the idea of having him with me in the field, but I can also see just how much dogs seem to enjoy the challenges working to gun seem to bring. But I knew it had to start somewhere, so I ordered a few training dummies that had caught my eye at a game fair last autumn. I thought these woiuld be a better size for him, since they came as either partridges or pheasants, and I had started the pup out pretty early to work off some of his unlimited supply of energy.

When they arrived, I was surprised by the dummies themselves. They were made to a very high standard, with a pleasant shape (they fly really well off their toggles!). I’ve since discovered that they float, can take just about as much munching as Lucas can give as he stumbles up hills, and last much better than the other one I bought (which, if I recall, was actually more expensive). I was interested in why they seemed so well-thought-out, since they’re essentially just a bag on which to practice retrieving. I quickly found their weak-point, however, when the dummy landed toggle-side down on a stone: the shiny molded plastic shattered! My interest with the company, however, was further piqued when I ordered a few more, and I found the toggle to be a made of hard rubber, which bounced and gripped even better in my hands. This was iterative design, working to make an ever-increasing standard without changing the price or making a feature of general improvements. Being so impressed, I contacted the makers (the Working Dog Company) to find out their story:

Ian has been working his Labradors for a number of years. One of them had a particular problem delivering the standard type of dummy to hand. He either held it by one end like he was smoking a big cigar, or he tossed it around his head by the toggle flap. I spoke to a number of people and gun dog handlers about this problem and it seemed not to be unique to me or my dog. I could not find a dummy on the market that would help me, so I discussed the problem with my daughter who is a designer for a top country clothing retailer and supplier. We decided if we were going to start from scratch, lets change the shape to more closely resemble the shape of a game birds body. Make it softer for the dogs to hold and reduce the size of the toggle flap so that the dog would not be tempted to take hold of it. We came up with this design, offered it in 2 sizes: the Partridge to be utilised as a puppy dummy and the Pheasant to make a dog open its gape and carry as we would expect it to hold a shot bird.

When I retired after 30 years service in the Fire Brigade Jill and I decided to set up The Working Dog Company Ltd, the web site went live in August 2008 and the new dummies were launched (pardon the pun) at the Midland Game Fair in September 2008.

They have proved very popular, demand has been high and we received 2 very good reviews in the shooting press, namely BASC Nov edition magazine and Shooting Times. To view these testimonials visit our web site. We are now providing to a number of gun dog training clubs, professional handlers and shipping out to Scandinavian countries where gun dog training and handling is almost a national past time.

I really like seeing innovation in things that often go un-noticed. I can say that my little pup definitely prefers retrieving the Working Dog Company dummies. In fact, it’s difficult to make him retrieve the other if he’s allowed his preference! It’s certainly a success story so far, and I wish the WDC great luck in future.

Fool’s Gold

As a child in Colorado, I have a distant memory of finding a nugget of pure gold, bigger than the tip of my thumb. I instantly became the richest kid in America! I thought I could buy a husky (with a sled) and a Tama Starclassic Birch studio set with a full range of Paiste cymbals, and maybe a house or three. I could move out on my own, I could—so many expectations; so many promises.

My dad took a quick look and said something like: “Wow, you’ve found iron pyrite. Fools Gold.”

The disappointment! All those things to which I was looking forward disappeared, and the lump of cold angles suddenly seemed a reminder of what could have been.

I have recently had a similar experience with some fools coffee.

Coffee Suppositories?

I was asked by Miele to trial a high-end coffee machine for three weeks, and give an honest account of what I found. I was thrilled, since the last time I got to play with a 5-figure espresso machine was during uni working as a barista. I built up a few images in my mind; imagining pulling perfect shots of central-american Cup of Excellence blends, practising my crema, and tasting half a dozen different coffees to see which worked best with the £1,000 set up. My interest was only piqued further when a colleague at work described Miele as “the Rolls Royce of appliances”.

About three weeks ago, a courier arrived as I sat working from my home office. He delivered a box big enough for a springer spaniel to sleep in, and heavy enough to make the manly nonchalance I affected while carrying it away from the door quite difficult indeed. Nonetheless, I left the box packaged and wrapped up in the hall until the evening, looking forward to the reward of an espresso or six after work.

As I worked my way through the layers of packaging, I gradually unveiled a stainless-steel, microwave-like appliance that dwarfed anything else my kitchen held, except—just—the oven. I scanned the quick-start guide and with a single word, my expectations instantly disappeared: “nespresso”. I lost the will even to unpack and set up this monstrously-large contraption.

Nonetheless, I did set it up, removing all of a counter-top from usable space. My disappointment, if anything, grew as I laboriously set up the menu through an achingly-complicated process involving the use of arrow buttons and “OK” to calibrate a dizzying array of possible settings. Throughout the next two hours, I played with settings, opened all the openable compartments and tried several of the coffee suppositories. My thoughts follow:

The Miele CVA3650 is a giant appliance which costs £1,000 (c. $1400). It looks impressive, with a stainless-steel finish and various accoutrements, including backlighting, obviously included as talking features. It would not feel out of place in a posh flat in Kensington—fitting in like an addition to a designed suite of expensive appliances. Indeed, the lasting impression is of a lifestyle rather than coffee. Browsing the Miele site, I found many photos of kitchens, appliances, and artfully-arranged mugs sometimes held by comfortable, rich-looking models. The only thing missing from these photos?

Coffee.

Nespresso tastes worse than I thought it actually could. I’m not saying that to be snobbish about my coffee, and I was genuinely curious to know what the little, coloured “pods” could produce. The result of every single “brew” was a flat, metallic, suspension of frankly disgusting, tepid liquid. Some aspect of the extraction produces an interestingly-contrived crema every single time, so the drink (I can’t call it coffee) certainly looks impressive. My wife recoiled after the first sip, and I left more than one completely untouched. The terrible “flavia” machine in my office makes better-tasting coffee than this!

The Miele machine is touch-button automation at it’s most falsely economic (time-wise). Sure, it’s convenient to press a button and have an espresso (ahem!) within 30 seconds, but that does not account for the half-hour (no joke) of programming every time the machine is re-plugged back in. I’m afraid I’m green-conscious enough to flip the switch at the wall after every brew, so this makes it ridiculous to use. The menuing system is cumbersome enough to make my eyes water. Two arrows, and “OK” to make every selection. It takes a huge amount of patience, and its… just… aweful! So many features, so few necessary or even useful. You can, for example, programme 9 different “user profiles”. Why? It’s a pod of shite coffee, which will taste EXACTLY the same, no matter which button you push. Why go through dozens and dozens of beeps in order to have a user-specific nescafe?

The only part of this machine which is convenient, is the actual making of a drink. For that, it is fast! It produces a coffee of your choice (out of 5 different capsules) very rapidly (provided it’s been programmed and has already been switched on, obviously.) It will then automatically rinse itself, and let you make another soil infusion very rapidly. You only have to remove the spent capsules periodically from a tub within the machine, and fill up a water reservoir whenever it’s low (though, this is fairly frequently, thanks to the rinsing).

Final Words

Before writing this post, I sent Miele’s representatives a quick heads’ up, with a brief summary which I think works well.

I understand its premise of being a super-convenient means of having a sophisticated-looking hot beverage, but I much prefer my coffee to be tasty, regardless of time. And the amount of time spent scrolling endlessly through menus isn’t really conducive to suiting busy people like myself as a domestic coffee machine. [in reply to the statement that it might prove to be] I’d be much more likely to advise people invest in a cafetiere, grinder and decent beans. For the £1,000 they could have spent on this, they could have many scores of kilos of excellent, locally-roasted, hand-sourced beans, and enough left over to send a thank-you bottle of single malt to the coffee roaster.

There are many things I want to do to improve the way I live. My little plot of the world should be made greener through fantastic gardening skills. My waistline should be happily withering while my biceps should be steadily broadening—despite the physical reality that I’d entirely lose my middle that way. Dinner parties should be thrown matching an excruciatingly-chosen bottle of wine with exquisitely-prepared, locally-sourced, organic food followed by exciting coffee preferably prepared using some seldom-seen flavour-extracting gadget.

The reality is that I tend not to have much time to get the very basics of social-acceptability complete before forcing myself to sleep. Much of this is by choice, no doubt.

Facts: I’d rather read than sleep; I’d rather train the dog to retrieve three different dummies than wash up; and I’d rather cook an exciting dinner than pack a mundane yet healthy lunch.

Much of the time I have, however, is spent working and travelling to work, and trying to get done the things I (and my wife) feel need to be done. A bit of gardening to keep the neighbours from tutting, a bit of washing up so dinner can be made, and walking/training the pup so he doesn’t go mental and eat the cat, our house and the whole world…

I have realised, over the past few weeks, that much of my lifestyle is dependent on a web-connected world. That last sentence reads a bit like an obvious reality from a blogger and someone employed in web innovation; but I mean more than just “My job is dependent on the web”. I work from home half the week rather than commuting the 60+ miles to the office every day; and this requires web access, a vpn connection to work, and various communication services. But I also live in rural Shropshire, and tend to do most of my shopping online. I phone my family back in the states via Skype and keep in touch with friends, colleagues and acquaintances on Twitter. I even plan meetings, arranging transport and buy any travel tickets online. It would be impossible for me to live here and work as I do without a web-enabled life.

The web is part of this lifestyle, though, and there is actually more to this “connected” living than just the links on the web. You see, there is something more about organisation involved. It’s not just that I have a connection to a retail site, but that they’ve innovated their organisation to the point that I can buy most of what I need and want, have it delivered to my door the next day, and still save money and a HUGE amount of time. These connected companies (more in another blog post, probably) are taking advantage of scale to bring a service to web-enabled shoppers.

But its only recently that more interesting services have begun to spring out of this connected cloud of companies. I’ve talked about kiva.org, which organises charitable micro-finance loans through the medium of web-connection and building upon the shoulders of giants like PayPal, who were early innovators in organising payments online. But what about little things? Sure, we can change the world, but can we make a difference to, for example, how we eat tomorrow?

Enter: graze.com. Rob at the office jokingly calls them SaaS (Snacking as a Service). Graze sends a box of healthy and tasty snacks through the post to arrive on subscribed days of the week (i.e. I have mine delivered to the office on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays). Graze mixes fresh and dried fruit with nuts and other healthy snacks, for £2.99/box including postage. This is great, healthy food delivered regularly to my desk in time for lunch for less than £3/day!

Graze mixes a few recent innovations to produce this service. Rob’s comment surfaces the “as a Service” ethic, which essentially fills a particular need on a subscription business model via the web. It’s also reminiscent of jukeboxes or music subscriptions applications like Spotify or even iTunes, in that you can choose the level of detail you want to use in organising your snacking, or you can simply “shuffle” them, being surprised but putting no effort into planning.

The long/short? I’ve actually saved money, because I no longer pop out to a petrol station to spend £4 on a barely edible sandwich and snack. I feel better, because this food is actually, truly great for me and It feels nice to eat something light but sustaining when sitting at a desk for hours. I don’t skip lunch, so I’m less inclined to trough when I get home, and all by simply outsourcing my lunch!

What else needs organising in life? Tidying as a service? No? Clothing? Wardrobe as a Service? Ooh, if anyone wants a startup, I’ve got a great idea for a service that delivers clothes perhaps monthly to keep your wardrobe refreshed, or allows for special days (weddings, balls etc… too). What would you outsource, and what service would you provide?

As you know, I’ve been emailing my ISP recently to find out why my connection drops every evening to around 500k. Following every email I’ve sent since January, I have received this automatic response (ISP name removed, for now…):

Hi,

Thanks for emailing us.

Our Broadband team have received your email and will get back to you in the next 48 hours. We’re sorry to say that we’ve received more emails than normal over the past few days and this is why it might take us a bit longer to reply to your email.

Our call centres are also very busy just now so please don’t call us for an update on our email reply. Don’t worry, we’ll get back to you as soon as we can.

Thanks for waiting.

In the mean time, why not check out our broadband help pages…(link)

A few notes on why this is unsatisfactory:

Firstly, an automatic apology (”we’re sorry to say”) means nothing; and I would advise any customer services to not include one. It is cut from the same cloth as the oddly cheery recorded announcements broadcast at rail platforms: “We’re sorry to announce that the **** service to Manchester has been delayed by 45 minutes. We are extremely sorry for this delay.” It raises the blood pressure with its disingenuousness.

Secondly, to say you’ve received many extra emails is foolish in the extreme. It puts me in the role of one in a mass of unhappy customers who must all be receiving the same service; and I feel more than ever like shopping elsewhere. Additionally, an automatic response saying “over the past few days” for two months is hardly accurate. In fact, it’s a lie. If it’s been higher than “normal” for that long, it’s a new normal. Gradually, the meaning becomes something like: “We receive many, many emails of this nature each day—far more than we’re prepared for; and we’re don’t see this as a problem. We are happy with the level of service we supply enough not to expand our team. Join the club, and we’ll get back to you, eventually.”

Thirdly, the opening paragraph is contradictory. One cannot promise 48-hour turnaround in one sentence, then follow it with a sentence explaining it might take a bit longer. It illicits the thought pattern: “Longer than what? Longer than 48 hours; then you shouldn’t say it. Longer than expected; then I will expect less than 48 hours and be disappointed if it is around two days.” It doesn’t make sense.

Moreover, this email abruptly cuts off communication channels with the users: “Our call centres are also very busy just now so please don’t call us”. This is a slap in the face, especially for someone experiencing connectivity issues. I cannot stress enough how important it is to be open with customers, even for a large service provider. Perhaps, actually, especially for a large service provider. Telling customers in need of support not to phone is extremely unadvised.

I will not go into the grammar (team is singular, I therefore expect “Broadband team” to be predicated by the singular stative verb: has; and why is Broadband capitalised?), for this way lies pedantry (and I don’t want anyone even more pedantic pointing out all my mistakes!)

This is the first communication your customer receives after a complaint, it should be crafted with care. It’s not just an automatic reply; it’s the immediate face of your company. And, as it stands now, it’s not an attractive face at all.

I’d be more than happy to outline suggestions for such an email, and I welcome comments.

People tend to make the mistake of giving the puppy attention for making noise in the crate. When you do this, you confirm the puppy’s instinct that being alone is death (it would be, in the wild), and that calling for help will bring someone. -VeterinaryPartner.com

I realise that a single post a few weeks ago simply stating that I had acquired a puppy (admittedly inclusive of photo) is not the best way to enamour myself with dog lovers out there. So, I thought I’d update the puppy narrative a bit, now that Lucas is about 14 weeks old.

Lucas’ first night with us was his calmest, I think. He’d been separated from his mother and two sisters, picked up by a big stranger and driven nearly an hour down winding, Shropshire roads to a place he’d never seen. The journey was smooth, I thought, because he didn’t make a peep. I even stopped once to make sure the bundle was still breathing. I brought him inside, and laid inside his crate with him while he slept, snuggled up against his fleecy hot water bottle. (I think, on reflection, that the adult lab-sized crate was slightly over-kill for a foot-long pup). I’m thinking, at this stage: “Hey, this is great! I remember puppies being much more work than this! Must be the breeding.”

Can I get a “heh…”?

The journey had made him nauseated, and he was exhausted. The next morning, he was squirmy and lovely, like a puppy’s meant to be; and he spent every waking hour with us, and slept on our laps. Come evening, however, and a different puppy emerged.

We didn’t sleep much that week.

He’s done really well, though, and he’s a great little dog. He’s a natural retreiver, and already dives into cover after thrown toys. I’ve become very anxious, however, after reading several articles and a book or three on dog training. You see, I want him to live up to his heritage and be a useful worker as well as a companion. I want him to be attentive, but free and confident, and I don’t want him to pick up any bad habits.

I think I might want a bit too much, frankly. The next stage is to be calmer with him, and make sure he’s not overwhelmed by our wishes. He’s naturally attentive, and he’s already a companionable chap; so I think the rest will come.

Got one of those tagging tasks from Facebook. This is the first one I’ve done, and I thought it was interesting; so I thought’ I’d post it here. Feel free to do one of your own and ping back here:

To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish. You can also “save drafts” so you don’t have to work on this all in one sitting25 Random Things About Me

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you (no pressure, if you want to write one, write one, don’t do it cos this thing tells you to!).

1. I was born in Ft. Collins, a university town in northern Colorado.
2. I dislike very few foods. indeed I can only think of one dish I would not eat.
3. I hate flying; in part because of fact 4, but for other reasons as well.
4. I am afraid of being in high places. Some call it an irrational fear, but I have yet to grow wings, so find it rational enough.
5. I was born with such light-coloured hair, it was virtually pink.
6. I have a tendency to over-explain, rather than letting my statements…
7. I am picky about the films I watch, and consequently, haven’t seen many lately.
8. The key I most use is the backspace key, followed by the left-arrow for correcting thoughts as I type.
9. I don’t really have a favourite colour.
10. I tend not to like yellow very much.
11. I prefer trains to cars, but very much enjoy driving.
12. I am distressed to the point of insensibility by some things; and this makes me feel older than I am. Currently, I am 56; and inexplicably of high military rank.
13. I am often accused of linguistic pedantry.
14. I tend to disagree. I think this is too easy a reaction to anyone who understands grammar.
15. I often misspell grammar.
16. I make my living by thinking about other ways of doing and saying things, then writing them down. In other words, I work with concepts, the abstract, and writing.
17. Inconsequential things bother and exercise me more than important things.
18. I very much like dogs.
19. I enjoy creating, both with words and with images.
20. I have sold a painting in a coffee house. I have, so far, a 100% success rate for my art.
21. I enjoy semantics. Meaning is important to me.
22. I love thinking about things, in abstracts. I love metaphorical explanations of the way we think.
23. I dislike playing most games, mostly—I think—because I don’t see the point in winning an inconsequential game. This includes winning games. I simply do not experience much joy in winning on arbitrary terms.
24. I don’t understand why women need to know so many details about certain topics: child birth, for example.
25. My middle name is only an initial. It doesn’t stand for anything at all.

“Headache by magandafille“

This evening I sent this letter to my ISP in response to their support followup (I’ve removed the company name):

Please, please don’t give me a list of troubleshooting tips again…

The broadband router is attached directly to the test socket, therefore guaranteed by BT.

My microfilter is fine, and I’ve had different units at various times (of different makes and even colours); and, before you ask, I’ve got one on every phone line in the house.

I’ve reset the router in the past (though I’ve been informed that this can actually cause up to 5-days delay, it’s been more than a fortnight since the last reset).

My speeds are the same.

Nothing changes them.

I have nothing else running when I run speedtests, and have used multiple sites.

I’ve double and more checked all settings on the router itself, and have even switched SSID channels just for grins (no change).

I receive the same speedtest results on different more or less identical systems (OS X 10.5.6 each) though not at the same time, and receive the same result.

My iPhone also grows excessively sluggish between 5pm and bedtime.

My last ISP supplied me with a list of 13 troubleshooting tasks, and I completed them duly before each escalation… none of them resulted in any increase in speed whatsoever. The only thing I could think to do further is to construct a DIY parabola booster to increase the signal from the router to my Mac, though, since I write this from less than 3 meters from the router, I doubt that would help much either.

The speeds drop at peak times. That means there’s too much traffic for the infrastructure you supply. I’ve had no problem with (name of ISP) so far, and am fully aware that the West Midlands is low on its priority list (or, at least, BT’s list), and have come to terms with the low bandwidth that entails. However, you advertise speeds in my area (and have said in correspondence that you expect speeds in my area) to be at around 3MB/s. This is not true, daily.

Not only have my speeds routinely dipped below 1.5MB, but have even dipped below 500k on several occasions. I’ve not experienced “broadband” of that quality in years.

I appreciate your prompt replies, and hope you find whatever it is that’s causing this slow-down, though I can save you some trouble. It’s my neighbours, and their neighbours—all using limited bandwidth which you and other ISP’s continue to degrade by accepting more customers than you can supply.

Regards,