ALONG WITH SEVERAL hundred other journalists, I spent most of Thursday day at Old Billingsgate in London, watching Nokia GoPlay unfold (that's the Old Billingsgate cave at left), playing with different handsets (not all of them Nokia phones), and talking with managers as well as product developers. Throughout the day, I listened to the back channel chatter and learned other perspectives from Jaiku, IRC, direct text messages and Twitter. Those back channels gave me an indication of what Nokia could do with its positioning as an internet services company. I waited until midnight to wade through an inch of product descriptions, then I wrote this blog post while sifting through commentary from people about Ovi, the door to social media that Nokia wants people to use. What rambles below the break consolidates these thoughts.
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VISITORS TO IRELAND need to experiment with scones made by different Irish bakers because as the Bread Bakers Guild in the Bay Area discovered, all is not the same with the almighty scone. But as in all "camps" dotted on the knowledge-sharing map, Camp Bread involved learning from generous bakers. An all-day seminar on "Irish Ethnic Baking" let some of the secrets of the High Street Baker leak into mainstream American media. I've noted some of those secrets below and we have started experimenting with scone-baking sessions at home. We like messy scones so every session is a lovely opportunity to enjoy freshly baked sensations.
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[Editor updated post six hours after publishing to clarify that the issue of "followership" originated here. The editor (me) is the one failing to follow best practise. Screen shot removed from post.]
I THINK IT'S GOOD form to listen before speaking, to consider before expounding and to follow threads of discussion long after contributing to them. In relatively new communications systems like Jaiku and Twitter, some people are throttling might miss part of the conversation by limiting the synergy that unfolds during short give and takes. This happens to me several times a month. I've missed parts of conversations when I jumped in the deep end and accepted the text messaging component of microblogs directly onto my mobile phone. It proved unmanageable. In the middle of a Twitter conversation today concerning the State monitoring people who have not committed crimes, the part of the conversation most likely to contain a learned legal perspective got parked in a cul de sac because one of the respondents had shut down followers to the conversation. When you don't follow anyone, you have to look at a public timeline to spot comments made back to you because most other methods fail to get the information flow since Twitter often stagnates. Not following people is tantamount to closing comments on a web site. Not following the conversation is not connecting with people. More significantly, I have seen dozens of people doing this and while I understand some of the rationale, I also wonder if they know they're cutting out the response side--the most important slice--of social media. It does not seem to be normal to cut out people who want to add relevant thoughts to an engaging conversation.
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EVERY SUNDAY MORNING, I try to rip through three broadsheets, 1000 unread electronic newsfeeds and 1000 unread mailing list items. I never succeed, because I normally stop after finding 10 interesting things in the Sunday papers. Like today's readings, enjoyed under a deep blue Irish sky.
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I AM FLATTENING the charge on our two electronic key fobs because I have seen cars lock themselves when the fobs are totally charged. Although I have never experienced this problem, I watched a 2005 VW Passat lock itself on the main street of my town today. The problem got complicated because a three-month-old child was strapped in the back of the car. It got more complicated when the distraught mom did not have a spare set of keys anywhere on the continent. And then matters got as bad as they could when the local locksmith was more than 50 miles away at a wedding. A local policeman could not smash the driver's window with his baton. A friendly handyman offered a claw hammer and within five whacks, the street was filled with fresh glass shards. This is not an unusual occurrence.
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