“Twicknam Garden” both celebrates and subverts the Renaissance garden as a place of refuge from city life, a place that recalls the harmonious union of art and nature that was lost when Adam and Eve were expelled from Paradise, the original garden. As you’ll hear, there are some unpleasant moments of self-aggrandisement and bitterness in the poem, and you’ll hear my commentary trying to tack between the Scylla of ignoring the unpleasantness and the Charybdis of discounting the poem because of it. That’s the kind of tricky sailing Donne often demands from his critics, especially because the emotions in the poem seem so intimately related and are so vividly expressed.

A P.S. to the “Valediction: of my Name in the Window” of a few ADADs back: It now seems to me that a key distinction is between the daylight hours, when the window can be seen through, and the nighttime hours, when the interior lighting makes of it a kind of mirror, and a mirror that displays the poet’s own name. If that bedchamber ever hosts another lover, the name in the window will be an accusing trace of the earlier love that is now betrayed, a trace that will have been written upon the reflection of everything transpiring in the room.

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From Podcasting News, a link to a Guardian article on podcasting. Not too much new here, but what seems to be a growing chorus of voices is encouraging.

Not a particularly thoughtful post, for which my apologies. I’ve been expending energies in the comments galleries at Abject Learning and Infocult (links to your right on this screen, in the Blogs section on the right sidebar). Feeling a bit dry on my own site just now, but no doubt something will provoke me and elicit more verbiage soon.

Interesting Q&A in Computerworld with Andy Boynton, Dean of Boston College’s Carroll School of Management. Lots to consider here, but I’ll pull two items out to entice you to read the longer interview (Boynton says “he” instead of “he or she,” but I don’t think that, however regrettable, invalidates his points):

What kind of characteristics would the team manager require? He has to be a conduit of ideas from the outside. He has to listen extraordinarily well. He has to be supremely self-confident, because he’s got to let those egos and the “I” soar. Nothing dumbs a team down more than everything being “we.” Compromise is the sire of mediocracy. It’s not about compromise; it’s about getting there. And he has to value failure as an opportunity to learn.

What do you think is the biggest challenge in managing a virtuoso team? You need a manager that understands the rules of the game; someone who’s direct, who’s there to get results, not to be polite; someone who won’t let them accept compromises; someone who wants to change the world and will keep that ambitious target in front of them. Leadership is a contact sport. It’s a whole different environment, and if you don’t know that going in, it can unravel.

I wonder what happens when we consider classes, or colleges, or faculty, as “virtuoso teams.” It’s also interesting to think of a teacher as someone who manages a (potentially) virtuoso team. Or perhaps the teacher first convinces the class they can be virtuosos, then manages them. Some good mulling material here.

A few days ago, Steve Greenlaw sent me to Will Richardson’s excellent PowerPoint presentation on new Internet literacies in the Web 2.0 world. As is often the case with me these days, I’m just now moving from skimming to perusing. (Often this move accompanies a desire to procrastinate on some other job–but I digress.) The presentation is excellent, hitting all the right bases, pressing all the right emphases, when all of a sudden the bright line shines as I read this slide:

“Natives need immigrants.”

In one sentence, Will articulates something so profound that my head spins (and my heart leaps up). Digital natives, those who have grown up in the Web, need the strategies of defamiliarization, wonder, and revision that only an immigrant can bring. An immigrant, not an outsider: those who emigrate are committed to a new culture, but they also have a “beginner’s mind” that allow them to see gaps and tensions and undiscovered treasures that the native’s mind has long been accustomed to filling in, dismissing, or overlooking.

Now this metaphor leads us into even deeper waters. One of the things education must convey to students is the ability to make oneself an immigrant, to step back and defamiliarize the context in which one operates, but use that defamiliarization not as a gesture or location of cool, critical, detached, and potentially arrogant superiority (which is why I like Shklovsky better than Brecht and the verfremdungseffekt) but as a stage on the journey to even greater intimacy, community, collaboration, and effectiveness. Perhaps I am unfair to Brecht, but the role of the affections in his thought has never been clear to me.

The Russian formalists, including Victor Shklovsky (cited above), articulate not only a theory of art but one pole of the educational continuum: to “make the stone stonier,” as my friend Terryl Givens was so fond of quoting. Or to pull another Shklovsky quotation from the Wikipedia article:

The purpose of art is to impart the sensation of things as they are perceived and not as they are known.

I do not accept Shklovsky’s remarks as definitive of art, mostly because I believe art can convey knowledge, not just perception. Or maybe it’s that I believe communicated perception is a form of knowledge. But I do think that a move toward defamiliarization, an unknowing, is always a part of what we feebly call “critical thinking.”

Not just skepticism in its usual connotations, for ardent commitment has its own defamiliarization to offer as well. Or as Van Morrison once sang, “I’m just a stranger in this world.”

Read all about it. I’ll be following Steve’s experiments very closely, and I hope you will too. I’m also curious about how information technologies might further his aims. The automated quizzes are a good start. Visit his blog, offer encouragement, and share strategies if you’re of a mind.

In an effort to discourage vandalism, Wikipedia will soon begin to freeze pages with “stable contents … whose quality is undisputed.” Jimmy Wales, one of the founders of Wikipedia, revealed his plans in an interview with a German newspaper, reported in turn by Computerworld.

Wales’ comments focus on the issue of credibility, a reasonable concern, although it should be noted that his plans trade one form of credibility for another. As it now stands, Wikipedia’s credibility rests in part on the commitment of those who combat the vandalism, fix the pages, and contribute to its content. That form of credibility, however, relies on some fault tolerance and patience among users. If one encounters vandalism on a page and is annoyed, as Wales fears, Wikipedia’s credibility does suffer for a moment, but the larger credibility of a culture working together to fix broken windows is not necessarily impaired. On the other hand, if the contents of a page are frozen, one will always find the page in a credible state, but that credibility no longer testifies to the larger faithfulness of the culture that supports the experiment.

It’s a classic dilemma. I’m not surprised Wikipedia has at last decided it needs to pull back on its openness. But I am disappointed, especially that it’s come so soon, and I hope that there are no commercial factors driving Wales’ decision.

David Pogue notes that water cooler talk these days is as likely to center on new Web content as on TV shows or movies, and he links to a CNET story on the “top ten goofy Web cultural phenomena.” Looks like my Gilligan’s Island analogy wasn’t so far off after all.

CNET’s list is a strange one in many respects–I’d like to see one compiled by a teenager, and I’m not sure I agree with their implicit definition of “meme”–but the point is worth making nevertheless: more and more of our shared experience comes from the Web, and whether it’s good, bad, or ugly, it’s ours.

So let’s make some good stuff, and teach our students to do the same. They’ll teach us, too, which suits me fine.

My boss Chip German and I have had many enthusiastic conversations about serendipity, and about the possibilities of making a methodology of serendipity by using the speed and connectedness of our online world in constructing teaching and learning spaces and processes.

Today I’m getting my daily dose of inspiration from Jon Udell in a fantastic post called “Blog Biology” (the cell metaphor leads to a slight awkwardness about touching extrusions, but that’s of little moment here), and what do I see but the phrase “manufactured serendipity.” Plato would be proud: memes antedate their transmission, or perhaps this is a distributed meme that a certain cultural moment brings into focus in a new metameme. Not only that, but the phrase in “Blog Biology” is itself a link (thus enacting something of its own meaning–a hyperpoem?) that takes me to a long and early (2002) essay on blogs called “Manufactured Serendipity” on Sam Ruby’s “Intertwingly” blog. Sam writes,

Jon Udell labels this phenomenon, manufactured serendipity. Serendipity is all about making fortunate discoveries by accident. You can’t automate accidental discoveries, but you can manufacture the conditions in which such events are more likely to occur.

As you can see, Sam links “manufactured serendipity” back to an essay by Jon Udell, which is apparently where the phrase began its life, at least in this particular conversation.

What does this cross-linking mean?

I don’t think it’s merely an example of A-list bloggers reinforcing each other’s Technorati profiles and perceived authority by obsessively linking to each other.

I do think it’s an example of a persistent conversation that tries to document both process and product, and thus blurs the distinction usefully.

I think it’s an interesting way of taking the reader through the history of the unfolding drama of an instance of manufactured serendipity that retains what Frost calls “the iron-fresh scent of discovery” in his essay “The Figure a Poem Makes.”

I think it’s a way of demonstrating and empowering a long personal tail (wow–and I thought “contacting extrusions” was a chancy metaphor) by enabling a kind of recursion with one’s own earlier and still vital thoughts, something like the spiraling upward that Jerome Bruner uses as a figure for education. (A long pigtail? Someone call the metaphor police, quick.) One is constantly going back over the same ground, intellectually speaking. Progress comes not from novelty, but from altitude and perspective–and from the trickiest form of altitude, the kind that allows for up-close and far-back perspectives simultaneously. That’s apparently what Bruner means by narrative thinking vs. paradigmatic thinking, though I do not know whether or not he envisions their marriage as I do.

EVDB is The Events and Venues Database, and it’s a Flickr/Furl/Del.icio.us/blogosphere kind of a thing. The idea is that you’ll find more events you’re interested in, and get timely reminders about those events, more consistently and effectively if we’re all keeping track of cool stuff together. I just finished doing post-production audio on an IT Conversations “Opening Move with Scott Mace” interview with Brian Dear, the founder and CEO of EVDB; you should be able to hear that piece sometime in the next few days.

If we’re all keeping track of cool stuff together, perhaps there’ll be less time for doing ugly stuff to each other. I’m reminded of the urban legend (or maybe it’s true) that no crimes were committed in New York City when the Beatles first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show in 1964.

Can’t hurt to try.

Ernie posts today on a recent and very disturbing NY Times article. The first paragraph of the op-ed Ernie quotes is positively Swiftian in the hilarity and accuracy of its sarcasm, and the rest of the post notes a ray of hope. Don’t miss it!