Shannon Moeller's Blog

Let Dead Dogs LIE6

Mon, 29 Dec 2008 11:10:43 -0600

Extra code for IE6 is available upon request. As mentioned in the comments to a previous post there are certain markets wherein IE6 is still mandatory. Some institutions are perched atop decades-old intranets. IT departments restrict the cube dweller’s abilities to upgrade. I appreciate these facts and oblige as clients have need. I even appreciate certain sentiments:

Remember, when the masses look at your website and see a broken or blocked experience—they don’t say “oh look, IE6 is breaking the site again”, they simple [sic] say, “oh look, this website is broken”. In the eyes of the masses, websites break not browsers. No message you prompt to them will change this mentality; you will not make a geek out of a non-geek: for most, a browser is simply a tool for the Internet, one not being any different than another.

I find the statement of the user’s perception to be spot on. There are folks out there that think IE6 is the internet. There are folks out there that think AOL is a requirement (1,045 hours, FTW!!!). There are folks out there that think addresses are supposed to go into the Yahoo! search box.

I get it.

It’s just really really sad.

These are smart people, victims of their wisdom, holding fast to their trusty adage, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” My little website isn’t going to convince them that IE6 is the problem. Your site isn’t going to convince them it’s the problem. But, if we join Apple, The Washington Post, 37signals, et al., our sites might.

We’ll show them it’s broken. We’ll show them how to fix it. The world wide web will be a little happier for everyone. And no one needs become a geek unwillingly.

Who knows? We might even convince a few IT guys it’s time to let a flaming vulpes loose for the cubies.

The Invalid CSS Validator: A Joke Explained

Wed, 03 Dec 2008 15:22:28 -0600

There are two schools of thought (read: trite one-liners) when a joker is the only one laughing. The joker’s: “The last to laugh thinks slowest.” The audience’s: “If you have to explain, it wasn’t funny.” In this instance, perhaps both are accurate.

My site was recently featured on the Best Web Gallery and soon thereafter a flame war broke out about my little joke. Namely, there’s an icon with a red “x” next to a link used to check the validation of any given page’s CSS.

As well quoted by Anthony Bruno, Jeffrey Way once said, “The main point of validation is to know that you are doing something correctly.” ^{[citation needed]} Mr. Bruno also asked, “Why is there this trend of providing the little acknowledgements at the bottom of these pages displaying weather or not a site is valid?”

Herein lies the joke, I agree that validation is good and that prominent little links are pretty stupid.

The W3C has kindly made available tools with which to validate numerous things—the two most popular being for Markup and CSS. By appending check/referer/ these links may be included on any publicly-accessible page as a shortcut. Quite handy little (de)buggers.

It has become a trend for the standards-savvy Webelos of the web-developer world to have their sites prominently display that they pass validation. The thing to keep in mind is that these tools are just tools. They’re useful insofar as they tell the developer using them whether or not they are doing things correctly. But, the public display of this information is about as useful as a merit badge for breathing.

Where’s the punch line?

Enter vendor-specific extensions. These prefixes allow vendors to begin the implementation of CSS3 properties or proprietary experiments in such a way as to leave the rest of the browsers out there well enough alone. While these extensions are known and allowed by the W3C spec, their validator currently chokes on them.

In short: My CSS is valid, but it doesn’t validate. That little red “x” is just my light-hearted 56-pixel raspberry at the Webelos and their tool.

Flame if you will, but forgive me my chuckle.

Why the fridge?

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 18:41:49 -0600

I’ve had a fridge as my logo for a number of years. The question I’m asked most often is, “Why?” It’s not because I’m 6’4”, won a third burrito at Chuy’s, or practically own stock in Reed’s Premium Ginger Brew. Great guesses though. The real answer goes back a few years.

In 1988, my dad took a job at a small camp in Iowa. On top of a farm to grow up on, 660 acres of woods to play in, and a great spot to fish as a part of the job, a generous donor also provided an annual chance for the employees and their families to score some free loot. Such treasured items as discontinued Adidas sneakers, overstocked padlocks that could all be opened with the same key, and one fateful year, green t-shirts.

Not just any green t-shirts mind you, the green t-shirts—humbly adorned with the white outline of a vintage refrigerator.

They were big enough for me to swim in, but I didn’t care; they were my trusty companions. Together we’d laugh with friends, build tree houses with scraps, fall off bikes on gravel roads, shoot arrows at fake deer, and get completely covered in spring-time mud.

Over the years I grew bigger and stronger while they grew faded and worn. To me each tattered corner was a battle scar and a proud reminder of a boyhood well lived. But to Mom they were rips and tears far past mending. It was time my shirts retired.

Eight years and twelve hundred miles later my old friends were brought up in a phone call home, wondering whatever happened to them. Mom never knew that I loved those shirts so much, but at their mention remembered a spot of green in the garage. It was one of my old friends sitting in a stack of yet-to-be-used oil rags.

The shirt now hangs in a frame on my wall and an homage to its emblem—and happy memories—on my website.

A new dawn, a new day, a new site for me.

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 17:53:10 -0600

I love my job. When I’m not working for clients, I take time to relax by working for me. Now, after three years of puttering on my hobby and a number of rejected designs, I finally found a couple weeks to make this—version eight—a reality.

This iteration is the eighth, because I never tire:

[It] may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. –G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

It is the fourth, because I never quiet:

Throughout the world sounds one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me the chance to do my very best. –Gabriel Axel & Karen Blixen, Babette’s Feast

And it is the first, because I actually completed this one. I think I’ll keep it for a while.