Wednesday 27 June 2012

Review Angst

The Balisage paper acceptance email I got a few weeks ago contained not only the good news and some practical information with deadlines and such, but also peer review comments. When I first opened the email, I consciously avoided reading the comments, instead enjoying the moment and wondering about practicalities. I thought I'd start revising later; there was, after all, plenty of time.

A week went by and while I did think about ways to improve my paper, especially what examples and code to include in the presentation, I did not read the comments. After the second week, most of which I spent busy in customer projects, I still had not read the comments. Yes, I did think about my paper and I did take care of the practicalities, from passport to registration to hotel room reservation to booking flights, but I did not read a single comment.

It then dawned on me that my unconscious was hard at work avoiding them.

Peer reviews are the kind of feedback I tend to care about, and care about a lot. They are the exact opposite of your mum complimenting on your doodles on paper ("very nice, dear"), because they are written by people who a) know the field and b) want to understand what I'm trying to say, but also c) attempt to determine the validity of my ideas. Effectively, d) they decide my fate, not just the paper's.

Sounds dramatic, right? It is, because I care very much about what I do, and I'd like to think that my ideas are worthwhile, that they add something. In my mind, the acceptance of the paper itself is secondary; it is instead vitally important that what thepaper represents is accepted, that the ideas are sound. Make sense?

Yet, paradoxically, when using those same ideas in my work I'm self-confident and usually will have a pretty good idea of what works and what doesn't. I'm not particularly sensitive about them and will change them if needed, without bruising my ego too badly. It's natural for ideas to evolve and to change; it's natural to adapt.

Why are peer reviews different?

By the way, I did read the comments, eventually, and survived. They were quite useful, actually, and entertaining, too.

Tuesday 12 June 2012

The Final (?) Take on Film Markup Language

As some of you may know, I sometimes project films at the Draken cinema when I'm not busy doing XML stuff. Also, as I've noted before, film projection is moving from analogue to digital and it's all happening very, very fast. The commercial cinemas, multiplexes all of them, now run films on hot-swap hard drives in servers coupled with ugly digital projectors, and the one remaining 35mm cinema, an art house, is rumoured to close soon.

So today, after a call from the city council's school cinema group, I started thinking and realised that while I did consider the advent of all things digital when I first wrote Film Markup Language, even updating the DTD to include some rudimentary support for 2k and 4k projection for my 2010 presentation on it in Prague, it's too late to actually modernise the DTD or the spec for what's actually going on today.

See, the digital thingies do use XML. It's inconsistent and looks like some weird kind of committee hack, though, the kind of XML you might find in Java config files, but it's XML and it seems to be enough. So, Film Markup Language is dead for all practical purposes.

It's kind of sad.

Book on XLink?!

I didn't know there was a book on XLink so imagine my surprise when I found this. But more importantly, imagine my surprise when I saw the publication date:

24 Jun 1987