- Sep 2024
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podcasts.reclaimed.tech podcasts.reclaimed.tech
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https://podcasts.reclaimed.tech/@ds106radioSummerCamp
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- Mar 2024
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www.storycenter.org www.storycenter.org
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So AI could be a tool to help move people into expression, to move past creative blocks
To what extent are we using AI in this way in ds106? That is, using it as a starting point to build on rather than an end product?
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- Dec 2023
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nzetc.victoria.ac.nz nzetc.victoria.ac.nz
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at the gigantic strides with which it has advanced in comparison with the slow progress of the animal and vegetable kingdom
relate to Moore's Law
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potential for ai106?
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- Dec 2022
- Nov 2022
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bavatuesdays.com bavatuesdays.com
- May 2022
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badge.design badge.design
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https://badge.design/
This looks like the sort of tool that @cogdog or the DS106 crowd would appreciate.
<small><cite class='h-cite via'>ᔥ <span class='p-author h-card'>gRegor Love</span> in David Shanske was awarded the First Time Eating an Ear of Corn at Homebrew Website Club badge on May 18, 2022. Context: pretty self-explanatory. :) When David said it was the first time he had eaten an ear of corn at Homebrew Website Club, I said I would make the badge for him. I used https://badge.design/ to throw this together. — gRegorLove.com (<time class='dt-published'>05/23/2022 00:38:31</time>)</cite></small>
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policyreview.info policyreview.info
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For example, Campbell talks about personal cyberinfrastructures when he suggests providing students with hosting space and their own domain as soon as they start their studies: Suppose that when students matriculate, they are assigned their own web servers […] As part of the first-year orientation, each student would pick a domain name […] students would build out their digital presences in an environment made of the medium of the web itself. […] In short, students would build a personal cyberinfrastructure— one they would continue to modify and extend throughout their college career—and beyond. (Campbell, 2013, p. 101–102)
Giving a student their own cyberinfrastructures, a set of digital tools, is not too dissimilar from encouraging them to bring tools like notebooks, paper, index cards, pens, and paper in the early 20th century or slate and chalk generations earlier.
Having the best tools for the job and showing them how to use them is paramount in education. Too often we take our tools for thought for granted in the education space. Students aren't actively taught to use their pens and paper, their voices, their memories, or their digital technologies in the ways that they had been in the past. In the past decade we've focused more on digital technologies, in part, because the teachers were learning to use them in tandem with their students, but this isn't the case with note taking methods like commonplacing, card indexes (or zettelkasten). Some of these methods have been taken for granted to such an extent that some of them are no longer commonplace within education.
I'll quickly note that they don't seem to have a reference to Campbell in their list. (oops!) Presumably they're referencing Gardner Campbell, though his concept here seems to date to 2009 and was mentioned heavily in the ds106 community.
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- Sep 2021
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www.webtoonguide.com www.webtoonguide.com
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Q. What do you mainly focus on when drawing cartoons?Being simple. Being able to read them on a shaky bus. Being able to roughly understand the narrative even if you are not starting from the first episode,
I like the points the author makes here. I see these both as design concerns recognizing the reader's experience and the limitations and affordances of technology.
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- Mar 2021
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mtomorgan.com mtomorgan.com
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I think it would be fun to make a video of Lego characters moving and telling a story with the scene in the background
This is very ambitious but the results could be very impressive
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atrippthroughmylife.com atrippthroughmylife.com
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those around us are the story. We are just the ones that tell it.
The idea ties my story/our story/your story all together. I like big ambitious ideas.
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yogatacosandmotherhood.net yogatacosandmotherhood.net
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Intro to Cryptocurrency
This is a different twist on "my story" - something I want to know about. This approach could generate many interesting projects.
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designdynamics.net designdynamics.net
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I want to talk about success and what it means to each of us. I want to talk about life and not getting caught up in the small problems. I want to talk about letting fears go and taking the first step, the first leap! There’s so much to life and there’s so much of this world that is left undiscovered because we are too afraid of what others will say or react and we let our fear put us in a cage and trap us from ever truly living and experiencing life. So that’s what I want to talk about. What we’re doing to be different, to inspire change, to motivate others and ourselves to get out there and live.
I like the way this pushes the idea of my story/our story beyond autobiography.
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- Oct 2019
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thenextweb.com thenextweb.com
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Every design tells a story. Every story has a design.
When we talked about design, I said it was a deliberate decision making process to achieve a desired end. It solves a problem, a problem of communication or function or whatever. So a design, in a way, tells the story of the problem and its solution. The story of the problem solving process is the story behind the story, much like our ds106 assignment posts. A story also solves a problem of communication. It's a way of getting a message across. There is planning and decision-making - design - that goes into crafting a story.
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- Aug 2019
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www.insidehighered.com www.insidehighered.com
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an assignment for a course (Art 180) that requires students to spend 180 minutes during the term looking at a single work of art.
Interesting project - by making the time to study a work in detail, students can get to see past superficial meanings, and to consider how techniques and languages of media are used to create meaning. And perhaps to consider what meaning is
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- Sep 2018
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justzaying7.wordpress.com justzaying7.wordpress.com
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Yes I did Google, “how to write a haiku”, don’t judge.
But that's a good thing. Anything we don't know about, or don't know how to do, we can look up. Where it gets difficult is when we don't know what to call what we're looking for.
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suzannecatlin.com suzannecatlin.com
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The more grand and out there it is, the more often I’ll actually read it.
Creativity captures attention. So does clickbait, I suppose
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ds106.maddiemorris.com ds106.maddiemorris.com
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They did not take much time, but I enjoyed getting my creative juices flowing with them!
This is what the Daily Create is all about. Continually making things and generating ideas makes creativity come easier.
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ds106.jessicaspranger.com ds106.jessicaspranger.com
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It’s great seeing so many varying talents among everyone and being a part of the same community here on the web.
It's the community that makes ds106 - the way we inspire each other and build off of each other's ideas.
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www.ds.cluelesstiff.org www.ds.cluelesstiff.org
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I did not find the assignment bank assignments challenging
With many assignments, there are easy ways to get through them, and there are way to make them into major projects. We can find 5 star ways to do 1 star assignments, and vice versa.
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www.theguardian.com www.theguardian.com
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Imagination is one of our highest faculties
It's a driver of creativity, which is one of the cornerstones of ds106. Creativity could be considered applied imagination.
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- Nov 2017
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www.educause.edu www.educause.edu
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what Mike Caulfield refers to as a collection of "EDUPUNK technologies" evident in a variety of recent experimentations such as cMOOCs, ds106, FemTechNet, Open Course Frameworks, and P2PU.
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mfeldstein.com mfeldstein.com
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Jim Groom's ds106 uses a WordPress-based aggregation system, the current generation of which was built by Alan Levine
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www.insidehighered.com www.insidehighered.com
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public narratives and the possibilities of digital storytelling
I wonder if ds106 could be part of this? Could we take academese and translate it into internet vernacular? And use that idea as the theme of the course?
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- Jul 2017
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hybridpedagogy.org hybridpedagogy.org
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1000 assignments in the assignment bank and 11 thousand submissions
ds106: syndicated: 1K assignments and 11K submissions
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- Nov 2016
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www.rtdna.org www.rtdna.org
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But it remains a fact that the newspapers and magazines are the only instruments of mass communication which remain free from sustained and regular critical comment
I agree sort of with this comment. Newspapers and magazines are different from radio because the writer of the magazine is more of informative vs a radio person who informs you about the situation then puts in their two cents.
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I am frightened by the imbalance, the constant striving to reach the largest possible audience for everything
This definitely applies to social media today. So many users are driven by their number of followers and nothing else. My younger cousin told me that in his school if a photo doesn't get 70 likes on Instagram within the first 20 minutes, it has to come down because that's embarrassing. This puts so much unnecessary pressure on something that should be used for fun, communication, and in some cases to share information.
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One of the basic troubles with radio and television news is that both instruments have grown up as an incompatible combination of show business, advertising and news.
I think that this statement could be applied to our Hunger Games reading. In the Hunger Games the propos were so greatly staged and produced. Like the statement says, they were a combination of advertising and (manipulated) news.
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Nowhere is this better illustrated than by the fact that the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission publicly prods broadcasters to engage in their legal right to editorialize
This is one of the main largest reasons this speech is so memorable. Murrow, not only addressed the issue, but he called out the person responsible live TV.
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But this nation is now in competition with malignant forces of evil who are using every instrument at their command to empty the minds of their subjects and fill those minds with slogans, determination and faith in the future.
Very true. In my eyes, it appears that people can be very gullible and easily become brain washed or believe what they see on the internet or see on the news.
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I am frightened by the imbalance, the constant striving to reach the largest possible audience for everything;
This is notable in YouTube celebrities now a days. There is so much pressure to reach the largest audience that YouTubers tend to make fraudulent videos just to obtain the high view counts. It's very damaging to them and the viewer
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For surely we shall pay for using this most powerful instrument of communication to insulate the citizenry from the hard and demanding realities which must indeed be faced if we are to survive. And I mean the word survive, quite literally. If there were to be a competition in indifference, or perhaps in insulation from reality, then Nero and his fiddle, Chamberlain and his umbrella, could not find a place on an early afternoon sustaining show. If Hollywood were to run out of Indians, the program schedules would be mangled beyond all recognition. Then perhaps, some young and courageous soul with a small budget might do a documentary telling what, in fact, we have done--and are still doing--to the Indians in this country. But that would be unpleasant. And we must at all costs shield the sensitive citizen from anything that is unpleasant.
I relate this passage to the Hunger Games the poerful instrument of comunication was used in the movie to dominate the population. However, we are not too far from that realilty. The hunger games its a movie but now a days we can see how the media controls society
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Our history will be what we make it. And if there are any historians about fifty or a hundred years from now, and there should be preserved the kinescopes for one week of all three networks, they will there find recorded in black and white, or perhaps in color, evidence of decadence, escapism and insulation from the realities of the world in which we live. I invite your attention to the television schedules of all networks between the hours of 8 and 11 p.m., Eastern Time. Here you will find only fleeting and spasmodic reference to the fact that this nation is in mortal danger. There are, it is true, occasional informative programs presented in that intellectual ghetto on Sunday afternoons. But during the daily peak viewing periods, television in the main insulates us from the realities of the world in which we live. If this state of affairs continues, we may alter an advertising slogan to read: LOOK NOW, AND PAY LATER.
This passage catched my attention the most becase it points out the reality we live in. What is really interesting is that I have seen several passages talking about the fiction's world we live in but still nothig gets done. People know about the unglyness in society but they still want to live in it
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For surely we shall pay for using this most powerful instrument of communication to insulate the citizenry from the hard and demanding realities which must indeed be faced if we are to survive
This passage is like it almost directly relates to the movie Hunger Games. The media was a strong influence on the people and only way for communication between the two sides. The rebels used the media to get their words across, so that they could help others to survive and give them faith of changes to come.
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But I am seized with an abiding fear regarding what these two instruments are doing to our society, our culture and our heritage.
I think this passage is relate-able to digital media in a lot of ways because it affects our society very much. In the year 2016 everyone is using the internet and using several social media sites which for some is our local news. Many people are easily influenced by the things that are posted by others. We have a new culture where the media play a huge part in our lives today.
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informing a troubled, apprehensive but receptive public. Why should not each of the 20 or 30 big corporations
Having only 20 or 30 big corporations, it is even less today, control what is being put out into the public is dangerous. This is how false information and propaganda are spread on a large scale. Since there is so few outlets out there that are actually popular they can control what does/does not get put on the air.
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The top management of the networks with a few notable exceptions, has been trained in advertising, research, sales or show business.
This can be applied directly to the internet today. The CEO of a large internet company are going to do whatever they can to make more money off of advertising. They do this through research and using cookies to find out what the person is looking up. Amazon does this and suggests things similar to what you had searched earlier. It is all to make more money.
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I invite your attention to the television schedules of all networks between the hours of 8 and 11 p.m., Eastern Time. Here you will find only fleeting and spasmodic reference to the fact that this nation is in mortal danger.
This couple of statements remind of how in the hunger game there was a schedule for every event. They were to be at their living room at a certain time, in order to listen and get the information.
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But it remains a fact that the newspapers and magazines are the only instruments of mass communication which remain free from sustained and regular critical comment.
I wouldn't say that they are mass communication. Nowadays, there are other factors of communication that are able to capture million of view. Internet which will be the main one but also application on individual phone or tablets. One factor for sure is that the newspaper can't be critiques enough to particular organization because some are own by them. Lets put the Washington Post who got bought from amazon in order to say only good things and comment on it. Not everyone knows.
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Many recipients of licenses have, in blunt language, just plain welshed on those promises.
This makes me think of how in the hunger games even though Snow was claiming that he was doing everything for the people he was really doing it for himself and his power.
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"We are young. We have not developed the traditions. nor acquired the experience of the older media."
Often people say things much like this when posting on the internet. They do things so differently and post more haphazardly on the internet using this,
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Each time they yield to a voice from Washington or any political pressure, each time they eliminate something that might offend some section of the community, they are creating their own body of precedent and tradition, and it will continue to pursue them.
The reverse of this is what's being done in Hunger Games. The only things that were shown were what the capitol approved and things that they wanted people to believe, while the ads with Katniss go against the set traditions of the capitol.
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your voice, amplified to the degree where it reaches from one end of the country to the other, does not confer upon you greater wisdom than when your voice reached only from one end of the bar to the other.
Today people put literally everything on social media. Even though everyone will see it does not mean that it is of any importance. Any information that is way too much sharing if told to a room full of people, is just as useless if not more when put out for everyone to see.
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This just might do nobody any good. At the end of this discourse a few people may accuse this reporter of fouling his own comfortable nest, and your organization may be accused of having given hospitality to heretical and even dangerous thoughts. But I am persuaded that the elaborate structure of networks, advertising agencies and sponsors will not be shaken or altered. It is my desire, if not my duty, to try to talk to you journeymen with some candor about what is happening to radio and television in this generous and capacious land. I have no technical advice or counsel to offer those of you who labor in this vineyard the one that produces words and pictures.
I love the intro that Murrow uses. He knows that his speech might fall on deaf ears and may indeed be unhelpful, but he will not be daunted in his beliefs and his choice to express his opinion and thoughts on what he feels is not only an important event for him, but for his country. however in today's modern digital news infrastructure, his concerns are somewhat of a moot point now. in order for any web based news source to function online, they need revenue to function and to remain online. The easiest way is to advertise. While this is the easiest way to gain revenue, the payoff is much smaller. The only way for sites like these are able to still function are if they continue to give space to ads. The biggest downside is that with so much space taken over by ads, the real news at the center of the site is harder to see beneath the haze.
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It is an ancient and sad fact that most people in network television, and radio, have an exaggerated regard for what appears in print. And there have been cases where executives have refused to make even private comment on a program for which they are responsible until they had read the reviews in print. This is hardly an exhibition of confidence in their own judgment.
I feel that this comment could be applied to the social media situation at the moment. With the extreme dichotomy of political positions that this nation is currently facing, making a canyon from a crack, people tend to not voice their opinions publicly out of fear for scrutiny. As the result, a different candidate than anticipated won the nomination, because there was a silent majority that was too afraid to say anything to the outspoken other side. We are now left with chaos, and the hollow feeling that we no longer know our identity as a nation. In order for people to watch television programs, they must appeal to the majority. Likewise, in order for people to continue being your friend on social media, you must not voice an opposing opinion to theirs.
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during the daily peak viewing periods, television in the main insulates us from the realities of the world in which we live
Here is an example of Murrow's perspective on media and film. He discusses how the programs we seek are escapist in nature and, while occasionally addressing some of the current issues we are facing in society, quickly usher us in the opposite direction with a fantasy driven story line. The media is showing us what we want to see, and in some cases what they want to see, as opposed to what we really need to hear. Just like how the capital had tried to smooth everything over quickly to suffocate the fires of revolution that were starting to burn in the hearts of all of Panem's citizens, we can see today that the media dwells largely on the content they want people to discuss and mainly present the views they want. If not that, then they are distracting you with unrealistic programs that distract you from the real issues, so then the viewer is never the wiser and doesn't even give it a second thought. Our perceptions of the world, as much as we don't want to admit it, are extensively influenced by mass media.
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I am frightened by the imbalance, the constant striving to reach the largest possible audience for everything
This reminded me of the scene in the Mockingjay when Katniss had to take a new avenue of reaching people through the propaganda that they were broadcasting. I felt like in the beginning of the movie the ads from Katniss and Peeta were only watched by a select through and throughout the movie it grew and grew as they strived to reach more and more people.
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Back to the time when singing commercials were not allowed on news reports, when there was no middle commercial in a 15-minute news report, when radio was rather proud, and alert, and fast.
This caught my attention because I strongly dislike commercials. The other night I was watching the news and they mentioned a story. 40 minutes passes, along with 6 commercials, and the story still had not been shared. If you log onto twitter you can read news stories in seconds and they are at your convenience. I can see why people are not that interested in news broadcast and radio broadcast due to commercials. Although they provide extra funds, decreasing commercials could draw more or a new audience back to radio and tv media.
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. And it would be very hard to prove the magnitude of the benefit accruing to the corporation which gave up one night of a variety or quiz show in order that the network might marshal its skills to do a thorough-going job on the present status of NATO, or plans for controlling nuclear tests.
This reminds me so much of the Hunger games in the idea that people watching this real life dangerous life ending event could influence lives in such a great way for no other reason than there amusement. A distopian procedure that year by year our society gets dangerously close to.
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To a very considerable extent, the media of mass communications in a given country reflects the political, economic and social climate in which it grows and flourishes.
This is very true and I think that there is a lesson here to be learned about the state of our current country, the stuff that we post on online media reveals a certain truth about the people of this nation and where they intend to direct us as a whole.
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Responsibility is not something that can be assigned or delegated.
Unfortunately, in the movie we watched, Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part 1, we witnessed Katniss Everdeen being assigned responsibility for this entire movement, she was given a choice, but the pressure was on her, especially with public perception. It is not always true that responsibility cannot be assigned or delegated, because occasionally, there may be a witness or victim that so many people rally behind, that they begin a movement. Such as the Stanford rape victim, although unnamed, she has ignited a movement across the country for reforms within the criminal justice system, and she's indirectly responsible. Her letter sparked emotions in people and that sparked action with their unnamed leader being her. She does not necessarily have to be actively involved, but she set this major news story in motion by being courageous enough to share her story.
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when the evidence on a controversial subject is fairly and calmly presented, the public recognizes it for what it is--an effort to illuminate rather than to agitate.
There are a lot of fake news sites on the Internet. Most of them were created by ultra-conservatives or ultra-liberals. There was a particular story that spread during the Republican primary this past year that likened Ted Cruz to the Zodiac killer and linked his father, Raul, to JFK's killer. These two stories were picked up by other fake news sites, and eventually spread to legitimate news sites, which brought the news to a wider array of readers and although they were making fun of the notions these two stories presented, there were those conspiracy theorists who ran with it. The timing of this was right before a pivotal state's voting day and Cruz blamed the fake stories and the mention of them by his opponent, Donald Trump, for his loss of that state. The Internet has a tendency to skew stories into a haphazard presentation and once caught up into arguments with "trolls", people start to get agitated and react differently towards whatever candidate that "troll" may support, even if the candidate themselves are sane and qualified for the job.
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One of the basic troubles with radio and television news is that both instruments have grown up as an incompatible combination of show business, advertising and news. Each of the three is a rather bizarre and, at times, demanding profession. And when you get all three under one roof, the dust never settles.
I think that this can really apply to the internet. We have so much going around on it and in all these different categories that they seem incompatible and plain confusing. Things like Facebook where you have all of these categories can become tiresome and confusing because there's more than one type on there. We see horrifying news articles, personal struggles of the stars, and advertising; and at times we can only care about one of those things without becoming a jumble of confusing emotions. The dust never settles.
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I have no feud, either with my employers, any sponsors, or with the professional critics of radio and television. But I am seized with an abiding fear regarding what these two instruments are doing to our society, our culture and our heritage.
This reminds me of the AlterNet reading that we did a few weeks ago. Both of the writers are trying to make people a bit more aware of the effect of media on our society, culture, and heritage. Media has grown leaps and bounds for the past so many decades and is so common nowadays that it's had a profound effect on all of us.
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This instrument can teach, it can illuminate; yes, and even it can inspire. But it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it to those ends. Otherwise, it's nothing but wires and lights in a box. There is a great and perhaps decisive battle to be fought against ignorance, intolerance and indifference.
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They would like us to believe that they can distinguish between the public good and the private or corporate gain.
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I refuse to believe that the presidents and chairmen of the boards of these big corporations want their corporate image to consist exclusively of a solemn voice in an echo chamber, or a pretty girl opening the door of a refrigerator, or a horse that talks.
This connects to the topic I discussed when we talked about activist media two weeks ago. The image of these big corporations is very important to them, and a long voice representing them in not ideal in producing a solid image. The voice of many gives the illusion that others are involved.
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It is not necessary to remind you of the fact that your voice, amplified to the degree where it reaches from one end of the country to the other, does not confer upon you greater wisdom than when your voice reached only from one end of the bar to the other
I think this applied perfectly to the internet. The internet makes it easier than ever to connect with people across the country and even across the world. I think that when people hide behind a keyboard and profess opinions and such over the internet they become (in their mind) much braver and more intelligent than in real life. This results in the disconnect from what they would say on the internet to what they would say in person.
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If Hollywood were to run out of Indians, the program schedules would be mangled beyond all recognition. Then perhaps, some young and courageous soul with a small budget might do a documentary telling what, in fact, we have done--and are still doing--to the Indians in this country
This makes me think about The Hunger Games and how the Capitol sees the districts through the lens of the Games and television. They are horrified when they are exposed to the reality.
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your voice, amplified to the degree where it reaches from one end of the country to the other, does not confer upon you greater wisdom than when your voice reached only from one end of the bar to the other.
He points out that while the internet is an incredible and powerful medium to transfer information, it is not always necessarily effective. When ideas are spread across the globe, it is very easy for them to lose context and even their tone (think about how easy it is to misread a text message because we can't see the sender's expression or their tone of voice, indicators of any underlying meaning).
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But it remains a fact that the newspapers and magazines are the only instruments of mass communication which remain free from sustained and regular critical comment.
I don't think this applies to newspapers or magazines or even the Internet now-a-days. This is because there are so many tabloid like newspapers and magazines that anyone's thought can easily be published in any form of media. Although the newspaper and the magazine are less susceptible to critical comment, it still exists and is growing strong everyday.
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One of the basic troubles with radio and television news is that both instruments have grown up as an incompatible combination of show business, advertising and news.
This quote perfectly reflects the role the media has in propaganda. The media can choose what they wish to cover and how they wish to cover it. For example, if a radio station would like to support a certain candidate, they can openly tarnish the reputation of another candidate. This is allowing the media a role in terms of activist propaganda. Openly showing their support and talking about it during free time. Now I know this is legally not allowed, but it was possible and still is possible in supporting other ideas.
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they are building those traditions and creating those precedents every day. Each time they yield to a voice from Washington or any political pressure, each time they eliminate something that might offend some section of the community, they are creating their own body of precedent and tradition, and it will continue to pursue them. They are, in fact, not content to be half safe.
I feel like activist media goes in a way with this quote because activist media shows you what they want you to know and believe. People eliminate things that offend them, in return creating their own body of tradition. People are going to believe what ever they want to and create their own traditions or beliefs. Activist media chooses what to believe and what they want people to believe, creating their own tradition.
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I have decided to express my concern about what I believe to be happening to radio and television. These instruments have been good to me beyond my due. There exists in mind no reasonable grounds for any kind of personal complaint. I have no feud, either with my employers, any sponsors, or with the professional critics of radio and television. But I am seized with an abiding fear regarding what these two instruments are doing to our society, our culture and our heritage.
Television and radio have altered our country in a positive and negative way. When people hang out it is usually in front of the tv or when were in the car we usually have the radio in the background. If we cook dinner we have the television on in the background. There is always some kind of noise in the background of us.
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This instrument can teach, it can illuminate; yes, and even it can inspire. But it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it to those ends. Otherwise, it's nothing but wires and lights in a box.
This sums up so much about the internet for me. So many great potentials -- even (especially?) on social media. And yet, Netflix encompasses 1/3 of web traffic, and Facebook spreads fake news more readily than real news. We need the internet to inspire and illuminate, not just innoculate and misinform.
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www.alternet.org www.alternet.org
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and now a blockbuster movie series, that is entirely about why bestsellers and blockbusters are bad for you.
The whole point of the hunger games books is to show how it is dangerous to put blind faith on information given to you. It also looks at how social and class divides can cause issues within a society.
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But there’s something real in there: The thesis of The Hunger Games has always been not that the revolution will be televised, but that the revolution will be television.Our media loyalties will be what shape our lives; people fight, and people die, but the winner is the side with the best spin.
For us in the real world, our revolution is the internet rather than television. It's so easy to cast attention to an event through the internet due to our lives being revolved around it. This causes for movements to go viral very easily.
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You’d probably have to be living under a rock to not know the plot of The Hunger Games by this point, but here goes: In a dystopian future world where most citizens live in crushing poverty, children from across the country are invited to the mega-wealthy Capitol to compete in the titular Games. They fight each other to the death on live TV, and the winner gets a lifetime of free food.
When I read this part first thing that came to my mind was that always the poverty makes the rich. There is more poor than rich, and sadly the poor makes the rich
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This is where a series that started out as a pretty sharp media satire adds another layer, and somehow gets both sharper and much, much darker.
Most dystopian novel series start out this way. Many begin with a world where something happened which caused a major political shift for humanity, everything seems fine on the surface, there is a hidden evil agenda and the only one who can save the world is a messianic figure who symbolizes discontent with the social norm.
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She’s become the face of the revolution, but she really didn’t do anything to earn that status.
I don't agree with this because she is the only one in the lime light making revolutionary changes. She was only one with Peeta to not kill each other during the hunger game which started it all. She stands out from the rest just by being herself. Katniss has become the mocking-jay to make a difference and stop innocent people from losing their life.
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- Oct 2016
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thecoverpage.pushpullfork.com thecoverpage.pushpullfork.com
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During the day time they work like regular humans and at night time they have little dog clubs and parties. The Hound of Baskersville is still a hound but for him there isn’t a human form anymore
That is a very creative way to make the Hound more of a natural way, witout creating that much wondering amoung humans
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thecoverpage.pushpullfork.com thecoverpage.pushpullfork.com
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A presence that inspires not ideas of grandeur or adventure, nor ideas of hope and higher callings to greater paths. No this book inspires the basest of human emotion and thought. Fear, terror, paranoia, the feeling that perhaps the world is not so simple, that there is a hidden curtain waiting to be pulled back so that what is hidden may be shown to the audience, and the audience become consumed by what is shown. This story brings back feelings we had as children that led us to turning the light next to our bed on in panic, the quick sudden scrambling to reach that hidden flashlight under the pillow to chase away the shadows and whatever may be lurking in them. The feeling of abject horror as you descend into the darkest basement, one that is coated in cobwebs and smells of damp rot and the promise that something sinister is lurking in the gloom
This is fantastic. I enjoyed reading how describe what you think about The Hound of the Baskervilles. You covered all!
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My audio included ‘dialog that I have recorded myself’ and ‘sound effects included in your audio editing program or found on the internet’. This week’s assignment was interesting and was a great experience for myself.
Yes it was interesting and a great ecperincene for myself as well
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I think the point in this activity was that you can change the view point of any quote if it is posted with a different picture. It can take any quote even a serious toned quote and turn it into something with humor.
I like that idea, the ability to change anything something serious in to humor for fun is actually pretty cool. Makes you loose it up something and get distractive from the world.
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I also think that even though Family guy is supposed to be a sitcom based cartoon there is also a very science fiction element to it.
True, comedy and science fiction define Family Guy. Which at lot of individuals enjoy to watch and get entertain at of it. Nice work on your assignment.
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www.gutenberg.org www.gutenberg.org
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Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a “Penang lawyer.” Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across. “To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.,” was engraved upon it, with the date “1884.” It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner used to carry—dignified, solid, and reassuring. “Well, Watson, what do you make of it?” Holmes was sitting with his back to me, and I had given him no sign of my occupation. “How did you know what I was doing? I believe you have eyes in the back of your head.” “I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me,” said he. “But, tell me, Watson, what do you make of our visitor’s stick? Since we have been so unfortunate as to miss him and have no notion of his errand, this accidental souvenir becomes of importance. Let me hear you reconstruct the man by an examination of it.” “I think,” said I, following as far as I could the methods of my companion, “that Dr. Mortimer is a successful, elderly medical man, well-esteemed since those who know him give him this mark of their appreciation.” “Good!” said Holmes. “Excellent!” “I think also that the probability is in favour of his being a country practitioner who does a great deal of his visiting on foot.” “Why so?” “Because this stick, though originally a very handsome one has been so knocked about that I can hardly imagine a town practitioner carrying it. The thick-iron ferrule is worn down, so it is evident that he has done a great amount of walking with it.” “Perfectly sound!” said Holmes. “And then again, there is the ‘friends of the C.C.H.’ I should guess that to be the Something Hunt, the local hunt to whose members he has possibly given some surgical assistance, and which has made him a small presentation in return.”
I think this passage would be a great for a radio broadcast because it will introduce Sherlock and give insight into his character.
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For a moment or two I sat breathless, hardly able to believe my ears. Then my senses and my voice came back to me, while a crushing weight of responsibility seemed in an instant to be lifted from my soul. That cold, incisive, ironical voice could belong to but one man in all the world. “Holmes!” I cried—“Holmes!” “Come out,” said he, “and please be careful with the revolver.” I stooped under the rude lintel, and there he sat upon a stone outside, his gray eyes dancing with amusement as they fell upon my astonished features. He was thin and worn, but clear and alert, his keen face bronzed by the sun and roughened by the wind. In his tweed suit and cloth cap he looked like any other tourist upon the moor, and he had contrived, with that catlike love of personal cleanliness which was one of his characteristics, that his chin should be as smooth and his linen as perfect as if he were in Baker Street. “I never was more glad to see anyone in my life,” said I as I wrung him by the hand. “Or more astonished, eh?” “Well, I must confess to it.” “The surprise was not all on one side, I assure you. I had no idea that you had found my occasional retreat, still less that you were inside it, until I was within twenty paces of the door.” “My footprint, I presume?” “No, Watson, I fear that I could not undertake to recognize your footprint amid all the footprints of the world. If you seriously desire to deceive me you must change your tobacconist; for when I see the stub of a cigarette marked Bradley, Oxford Street, I know that my friend Watson is in the neighbourhood. You will see it there beside the path. You threw it down, no doubt, at that supreme moment when you charged into the empty hut.” “Exactly.” “I thought as much—and knowing your admirable tenacity I was convinced that you were sitting in ambush, a weapon within reach, waiting for the tenant to return. So you actually thought that I was the criminal?” “I did not know who you were, but I was determined to find out.” “Excellent, Watson! And how did you localize me? You saw me, perhaps, on the night of the convict hunt, when I was so imprudent as to allow the moon to rise behind me?” “Yes, I saw you then.” “And have no doubt searched all the huts until you came to this one?” “No, your boy had been observed, and that gave me a guide where to look.” “The old gentleman with the telescope, no doubt. I could not make it out when first I saw the light flashing upon the lens.” He rose and peeped into the hut. “Ha, I see that Cartwright has brought up some supplies. What’s this paper? So you have been to Coombe Tracey, have you?” “Yes.” “To see Mrs. Laura Lyons?” “Exactly.” “Well done! Our researches have evidently been running on parallel lines, and when we unite our results I expect we shall have a fairly full knowledge of the case.” “Well, I am glad from my heart that you are here, for indeed the responsibility and the mystery were both becoming too much for my nerves. But how in the name of wonder did you come here, and what have you been doing? I thought that you were in Baker Street working out that case of blackmailing.” “That was what I wished you to think.” “Then you use me, and yet do not trust me!” I cried with some bitterness. “I think that I have deserved better at your hands, Holmes.” “My dear fellow, you have been invaluable to me in this as in many other cases, and I beg that you will forgive me if I have seemed to play a trick upon you. In truth, it was partly for your own sake that I did it, and it was my appreciation of the danger which you ran which led me to come down and examine the matter for myself. Had I been with Sir Henry and you it is confident that my point of view would have been the same as yours, and my presence would have warned our very formidable opponents to be on their guard. As it is, I have been able to get about as I could not possibly have done had I been living in the Hall, and I remain an unknown factor in the business, ready to throw in all my weight at a critical moment.” “But why keep me in the dark?” “For you to know could not have helped us and might possibly have led to my discovery. You would have wished to tell me something, or in your kindness you would have brought me out some comfort or other, and so an unnecessary risk would be run. I brought Cartwright down with me—you remember the little chap at the express office—and he has seen after my simple wants: a loaf of bread and a clean collar. What does man want more? He has given me an extra pair of eyes upon a very active pair of feet, and both have been invaluable.”
It would be interesting to see the interaction of Watson and Holmes played in a radio sketch like in this passage.
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Its master had risen and was staring with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. A few minutes later we had reached the lodge-gates, a maze of fantastic tracery in wrought iron, with weather-bitten pillars on either side, blotched with lichens, and surmounted by the boars’ heads of the Baskervilles. The lodge was a ruin of black granite and bared ribs of rafters, but facing it was a new building, half constructed, the first fruit of Sir Charles’s South African gold.
This would also be a good scene for a movie due to the descriptiveness and detail on the lodge.
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Our breakfast table was cleared early, and Holmes waited in his dressing-gown for the promised interview. Our clients were punctual to their appointment, for the clock had just struck ten when Dr. Mortimer was shown up, followed by the young baronet. The latter was a small, alert, dark-eyed man about thirty years of age, very sturdily built, with thick black eyebrows and a strong, pugnacious face. He wore a ruddy-tinted tweed suit and had the weather-beaten appearance of one who has spent most of his time in the open air, and yet there was something in his steady eye and the quiet assurance of his bearing which indicated the gentleman. “This is Sir Henry Baskerville,” said Dr. Mortimer. “Why, yes,” said he, “and the strange thing is, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, that if my friend here had not proposed coming round to you this morning I should have come on my own account. I understand that you think out little puzzles, and I’ve had one this morning which wants more thinking out than I am able to give it.” “Pray take a seat, Sir Henry. Do I understand you to say that you have yourself had some remarkable experience since you arrived in London?” “Nothing of much importance, Mr. Holmes. Only a joke, as like as not. It was this letter, if you can call it a letter, which reached me this morning.” He laid an envelope upon the table, and we all bent over it. It was of common quality, grayish in colour. The address, “Sir Henry Baskerville, Northumberland Hotel,” was printed in rough characters; the post-mark “Charing Cross,” and the date of posting the preceding evening. “Who knew that you were going to the Northumberland Hotel?” asked Holmes, glancing keenly across at our visitor. “No one could have known. We only decided after I met Dr. Mortimer.” “But Dr. Mortimer was no doubt already stopping there?” “No, I had been staying with a friend,” said the doctor. “There was no possible indication that we intended to go to this hotel.” “Hum! Someone seems to be very deeply interested in your movements.” Out of the envelope he took a half-sheet of foolscap paper folded into four. This he opened and spread flat upon the table. Across the middle of it a single sentence had been formed by the expedient of pasting printed words upon it. It ran: As you value your life or your reason keep away from the moor. The word “moor” only was printed in ink. “Now,” said Sir Henry Baskerville, “perhaps you will tell me, Mr. Holmes, what in thunder is the meaning of that, and who it is that takes so much interest in my affairs?” “What do you make of it, Dr. Mortimer? You must allow that there is nothing supernatural about this, at any rate?” “No, sir, but it might very well come from someone who was convinced that the business is supernatural.” “What business?” asked Sir Henry sharply. “It seems to me that all you gentlemen know a great deal more than I do about my own affairs.” “You shall share our knowledge before you leave this room, Sir Henry. I promise you that,” said Sherlock Holmes. “We will confine ourselves for the present with your permission to this very interesting document, which must have been put together and posted yesterday evening. Have you yesterday’s Times, Watson?” “It is here in the corner.”
This passage is so vivid and descriptive that it seems to me it has to be made cinematically. I imagine this scene to be in the the style of Alfred Hitchcock's film, Rope. In desaturated color in one continuous recording.
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to take a cab he was all ready to follow them. It has, however, one obvious disadvantage.” “It puts him in the power of the cabman.” “Exactly.” “What a pity we did not get the number!” “My dear Watson, clumsy as I have been, you surely do not seriously imagine that I neglected to get the number? No. 2704 is our man. But that is no use to us for the moment.” “I fail to see how you could have done more.” “On observing the cab I should have instantly turned and walked in the other direction. I should then at my leisure have hired a second cab and followed the first at a respectful distance, or, better still, have driven to the Northumberland Hotel and waited there. When our unknown had followed Baskerville home we should have had the opportunity of playing his own game upon himself and seeing where he made for. As it is, by an indiscreet eagerness, which was taken advantage of with extraordinary quickness and energy by our opponent, we have betrayed ourselves and lost our man.” We had been sauntering slowly down Regent Street during this conversation, and Dr. Mortimer, with his companion, had long vanished in front of us. “There is no object in our following them,” said Holmes. “The shadow has departed and will not return. We must see what further cards we have in our hands and play them with decision. Could you swear to that man’s face within the cab?” “I could swear only to the beard.” “And so could I—from which I gather that in all probability it was a false one. A clever man upon so delicate an errand has no use for a beard save to conceal his features. Come in here, Watson!” He turned into one of the district messenger offices, where he was warmly greeted by the manager. “Ah, Wilson, I see you have not forgotten the little case in which I had the good fortune to help you?” “No, sir, indeed I have not. You saved my good name, and perhaps my life.” “My dear fellow, you exaggerate. I have some recollection, Wilson, that you had among your boys a lad named Cartwright, who showed some ability during the investigation.” “Yes, sir, he is still with us.” “Could you ring him up?—thank you! And I should be glad to have change of this five-pound note.” A lad of fourteen, with a bright, keen face, had obeyed the summons of the manager. He stood now gazing with great reverence at the famous detective. “Let me have the Hotel Directory,” said Holmes. “Thank you! Now, Cartwright, there are the names of twenty-three hotels here, all in the immediate neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Do you see?” “Yes, sir.” “You will visit each of these in turn.” “Yes, sir.” “You will begin in each case by giving the outside porter one shilling. Here are twenty-three shillings.” “Yes, sir.” “You will tell him that you want to see the waste-paper of yesterday. You will say that an important telegram has miscarried and that you are looking for it. You understand?” “Yes, sir.” “But what you are really looking for is the centre page of the Times with some holes cut in it with scissors. Here is a copy of the Times. It is this page. You could easily recognize it, could you not?” “Yes, sir.” “In each case the outside porter will send for the hall porter, to whom also you will give a shilling. Here are twenty-three shillings. You will then learn in possibly twenty cases out of the twenty-three that the waste of the day before has been burned or removed. In the three other cases you will be shown a heap of paper and you will look for this page of the Times among it. The odds are enormously against your finding it. There are ten shillings over in case of emergencies. Let me have a report by wire at Baker Street before evening. And now, Watson, it only remains for us to find out by wire the identity of the cabman, No. 2704, and then we will drop into one of the Bond Street picture galleries and fill in the time until we are due at the hotel.”
I like this passage to be a remake, a comedy remake, because of all the "yes sir". It will be cool if after saying yes to eerything he does nothing.
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“Why should he not go to the home of his fathers?” “It seems natural, does it not? And yet, consider that every Baskerville who goes there meets with an evil fate. I feel sure that if Sir Charles could have spoken with me before his death he would have warned me against bringing this, the last of the old race, and the heir to great wealth, to that deadly place. And yet it cannot be denied that the prosperity of the whole poor, bleak countryside depends upon his presence. All the good work which has been done by Sir Charles will crash to the ground if there is no tenant of the Hall. I fear lest I should be swayed too much by my own obvious interest in the matter, and that is why I bring the case before you and ask for your advice.” Holmes considered for a little time. “Put into plain words, the matter is this,” said he. “In your opinion there is a diabolical agency which makes Dartmoor an unsafe abode for a Baskerville—that is your opinion?” “At least I might go the length of saying that there is some evidence that this may be so.” “Exactly. But surely, if your supernatural theory be correct, it could work the young man evil in London as easily as in Devonshire. A devil with merely local powers like a parish vestry would be too inconceivable a thing.” “You put the matter more flippantly, Mr. Holmes, than you would probably do if you were brought into personal contact with these things. Your advice, then, as I understand it, is that the young man will be as safe in Devonshire as in London. He comes in fifty minutes. What would you recommend?” “I recommend, sir, that you take a cab, call off your spaniel who is scratching at my front door, and proceed to Waterloo to meet Sir Henry Baskerville.” “And then?” “And then you will say nothing to him at all until I have made up my mind about the matter.” “How long will it take you to make up your mind?” “Twenty-four hours. At ten o’clock tomorrow, Dr. Mortimer, I will be much obliged to you if you will call upon me here, and it will be of help to me in my plans for the future if you will bring Sir Henry Baskerville with you.” “I will do so, Mr. Holmes.” He scribbled the appointment on his shirt-cuff and hurried off in his strange, peering, absent-minded fashion. Holmes stopped him at the head of the stair. “Only one more question, Dr. Mortimer. You say that before Sir Charles Baskerville’s death several people saw this apparition upon the moor?” “Three people did.” “Did any see it after?” “I have not heard of any.” “Thank you. Good-morning.” Holmes returned to his seat with that quiet look of inward satisfaction which meant that he had a congenial task before him. “Going out, Watson?” “Unless I can help you.” “No, my dear fellow, it is at the hour of action that I turn to you for aid. But this is splendid, really unique from some points of view. When you pass Bradley’s, would you ask him to send up a pound of the strongest shag tobacco? Thank you. It would be as well if you could make it convenient not to return before evening. Then I should be very glad to compare impressions as to this most interesting problem which has been submitted to us this morning.” I knew that seclusion and solitude were very necessary for my friend in those hours of intense mental concentration during which he weighed every particle of evidence, constructed alternative theories, balanced one against the other, and made up his mind as to which points were essential and which immaterial. I therefore spent the day at my club and did not return to Baker Street until evening. It was nearly nine o’clock when I found myself in the sitting-room once more. My first impression as I opened the door was that a fire had broken out, for the room was so filled with smoke that the light of the lamp upon the table was blurred by it. As I entered, however, my fears were set at rest, for it was the acrid fumes of strong coarse tobacco which took me by the throat and set me coughing. Through the haze I had a vague vision of Holmes in his dressing-gown coiled up in an armchair with his black clay pipe between his lips. Several rolls of paper lay around him. “Caught cold, Watson?” said he. “No, it’s this poisonous atmosphere.” “I suppose it is pretty thick, now that you mention it.” “Thick! It is intolerable.” “Open the window, then! You have been at your club all day, I perceive.” “My dear Holmes!” “Am I right?” “Certainly, but how?” He laughed at my bewildered expression. “There is a delightful freshness about you, Watson, which makes it a pleasure to exercise any small powers which I possess at your expense. A gentleman goes forth on a showery and miry day. He returns immaculate in the evening with the gloss still on his hat and his boots. He has been a fixture therefore all day. He is not a man with intimate friends. Where, then, could he have been? Is it not obvious?” “Well, it is rather obvious.” “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes. Where do you think that I have been?” “A fixture also.” “On the contrary, I have been to Devonshire.” “In spirit?” “Exactly. My body has remained in this armchair and has, I regret to observe, consumed in my absence two large pots of coffee and an incredible amount of tobacco. After you left I sent down to Stamford’s for the Ordnance map of this portion of the moor, and my spirit has hovered over it all day. I flatter myself that I could find my way about.” “A large-scale map, I presume?” “Very large.” He unrolled one section and held it over his knee. “Here you have the particular district which concerns us. That is Baskerville Hall in the middle.” “With a wood round it?” “Exactly. I fancy the yew alley, though not marked under that name, must stretch along this line, with the moor, as you perceive, upon the right of it. This small clump of buildings here is the hamlet of Grimpen, where our friend Dr. Mortimer has his headquarters. Within a radius of five miles there are, as you see, only a very few scattered dwellings. Here is Lafter Hall, which was mentioned in the narrative. There is a house indicated here which may be the residence of the naturalist—Stapleton, if I remember right, was his name. Here are two moorland farmhouses, High Tor and Foulmire. Then fourteen miles away the great convict prison of Princetown. Between and around these scattered points extends the desolate, lifeless moor. This, then, is the stage upon which tragedy has been played, and upon which we may help to play it again.” “It must be a wild place.” “Yes, the setting is a worthy one. If the devil did desire to have a hand in the affairs of men—” “Then you are yourself inclining to the supernatural explanation.” “The devil’s agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not? There are two questions waiting for us at the outset. The one is whether any crime has been committed at all; the second is, what is the crime and how was it committed? Of course, if Dr. Mortimer’s surmise should be correct, and we are dealing with forces outside the ordinary laws of Nature, there is an end of our investigation. But we are bound to exhaust all other hypotheses before falling back upon this one. I think we’ll shut that window again, if you don’t mind. It is a singular thing, but I find that a concentrated atmosphere helps a concentration of thought. I have not pushed it to the length of getting into a box to think, but that is the logical outcome of my convictions. Have you turned the case over in your mind?” “Yes, I have thought a good deal of it in the course of the day.” “What do you make of it?” “It is very bewildering.” “It has certainly a character of its own. There are points of distinction about it. That change in the footprints, for example. What do you make of that?” “Mortimer said that the man had walked on tiptoe down that portion of the alley.” “He only repeated what some fool had said at the inquest. Why should a man walk on tiptoe down the alley?” “What then?” “He was running, Watson—running desperately, running for his life, running until he burst his heart—and fell dead upon his face.” “Running from what?” “There lies our problem. There are indications that the man was crazed with fear before ever he began to run.” “How can you say that?” “I am presuming that the cause of his fears came to him across the moor. If that were so, and it seems most probable, only a man who had lost his wits would have run from the house instead of towards it. If the gipsy’s evidence may be taken as true, he ran with cries for help in the direction where help was least likely to be. Then, again, whom was he waiting for that night, and why was he waiting for him in the yew alley rather than in his own house?” “You think that he was waiting for someone?” “The man was elderly and infirm. We can understand his taking an evening stroll, but the ground was damp and the night inclement. Is it natural that he should stand for five or ten minutes, as Dr. Mortimer, with more practical sense than I should have given him credit for, deduced from the cigar ash?” “But he went out every evening.” “I think it unlikely that he waited at the moor-gate every evening. On the contrary, the evidence is that he avoided the moor. That night he waited there. It was the night before he made his departure for London. The thing takes shape, Watson. It becomes coherent. Might I ask you to hand me my violin, and we will postpone all further thought upon this business until we have had the advantage of meeting Dr. Mortimer and Sir Henry Baskerville in the morning.”
once again I think this perfect for radio broadcast beause the amount of intereation going on. Radio its about talking and interaction makes it better!
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Sir Henry Baskerville and Dr. Mortimer were ready upon the appointed day, and we started as arranged for Devonshire. Mr. Sherlock Holmes drove with me to the station and gave me his last parting injunctions and advice. “I will not bias your mind by suggesting theories or suspicions, Watson,” said he; “I wish you simply to report facts in the fullest possible manner to me, and you can leave me to do the theorizing.” “What sort of facts?” I asked. “Anything which may seem to have a bearing however indirect upon the case, and especially the relations between young Baskerville and his neighbours or any fresh particulars concerning the death of Sir Charles. I have made some inquiries myself in the last few days, but the results have, I fear, been negative. One thing only appears to be certain, and that is that Mr. James Desmond, who is the next heir, is an elderly gentleman of a very amiable disposition, so that this persecution does not arise from him. I really think that we may eliminate him entirely from our calculations. There remain the people who will actually surround Sir Henry Baskerville upon the moor.” “Would it not be well in the first place to get rid of this Barrymore couple?” “By no means. You could not make a greater mistake. If they are innocent it would be a cruel injustice, and if they are guilty we should be giving up all chance of bringing it home to them. No, no, we will preserve them upon our list of suspects. Then there is a groom at the Hall, if I remember right. There are two moorland farmers. There is our friend Dr. Mortimer, whom I believe to be entirely honest, and there is his wife, of whom we know nothing. There is this naturalist, Stapleton, and there is his sister, who is said to be a young lady of attractions. There is Mr. Frankland, of Lafter Hall, who is also an unknown factor, and there are one or two other neighbours. These are the folk who must be your very special study.” “I will do my best.” “You have arms, I suppose?” “Yes, I thought it as well to take them.” “Most certainly. Keep your revolver near you night and day, and never relax your precautions.” Our friends had already secured a first-class carriage and were waiting for us upon the platform. “No, we have no news of any kind,” said Dr. Mortimer in answer to my friend’s questions. “I can swear to one thing, and that is that we have not been shadowed during the last two days. We have never gone out without keeping a sharp watch, and no one could have escaped our notice.” “You have always kept together, I presume?” “Except yesterday afternoon. I usually give up one day to pure amusement when I come to town, so I spent it at the Museum of the College of Surgeons.” “And I went to look at the folk in the park,” said Baskerville. “But we had no trouble of any kind.” “It was imprudent, all the same,” said Holmes, shaking his head and looking very grave. “I beg, Sir Henry, that you will not go about alone. Some great misfortune will befall you if you do. Did you get your other boot?” “No, sir, it is gone forever.” “Indeed. That is very interesting. Well, good-bye,” he added as the train began to glide down the platform. “Bear in mind, Sir Henry, one of the phrases in that queer old legend which Dr. Mortimer has read to us, and avoid the moor in those hours of darkness when the powers of evil are exalted.”
This would be a good scene for a radio version because I imagine that Sherlock would have a very suspicious tone of voice during the scene, but at the same time it is confident in Watson's ability to assess the situation.
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Never have I seen my friend more completely taken aback than by the cabman’s reply. For an instant he sat in silent amazement. Then he burst into a hearty laugh.
This whole interaction between Holmes and the cab driver would be a good scene for a movie version, but especially this line. The different emotions in quick succession would be good to see if an actor was able to pull it off.
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“What do you think of that, Watson?” cried Holmes in high glee, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction. “Don’t you think that is an admirable sentiment?” Dr. Mortimer looked at Holmes with an air of professional interest, and Sir Henry Baskerville turned a pair of puzzled dark eyes upon me. “I don’t know much about the tariff and things of that kind,” said he, “but it seems to me we’ve got a bit off the trail so far as that note is concerned.” “On the contrary, I think we are particularly hot upon the trail, Sir Henry. Watson here knows more about my methods than you do, but I fear that even he has not quite grasped the significance of this sentence.” “No, I confess that I see no connection.” “And yet, my dear Watson, there is so very close a connection that the one is extracted out of the other. ‘You,’ ‘your,’ ‘your,’ ‘life,’ ‘reason,’ ‘value,’ ‘keep away,’ ‘from the.’ Don’t you see now whence these words have been taken?” “By thunder, you’re right! Well, if that isn’t smart!” cried Sir Henry. “If any possible doubt remained it is settled by the fact that ‘keep away’ and ‘from the’ are cut out in one piece.” “Well, now—so it is!” “Really, Mr. Holmes, this exceeds anything which I could have imagined,” said Dr. Mortimer, gazing at my friend in amazement. “I could understand anyone saying that the words were from a newspaper; but that you should name which, and add that it came from the leading article, is really one of the most remarkable things which I have ever known. How did you do it?” “I presume, Doctor, that you could tell the skull of a negro from that of an Esquimau?” “Most certainly.” “But how?” “Because that is my special hobby. The differences are obvious. The supra-orbital crest, the facial angle, the maxillary curve, the—” “But this is my special hobby, and the differences are equally obvious. There is as much difference to my eyes between the leaded bourgeois type of a Times article and the slovenly print of an evening half-penny paper as there could be between your negro and your Esquimau. The detection of types is one of the most elementary branches of knowledge to the special expert in crime, though I confess that once when I was very young I confused the Leeds Mercury with the Western Morning News. But a Times leader is entirely distinctive, and these words could have been taken from nothing else. As it was done yesterday the strong probability was that we should find the words in yesterday’s issue.” “So far as I can follow you, then, Mr. Holmes,” said Sir Henry Baskerville, “someone cut out this message with a scissors—” “Nail-scissors,” said Holmes. “You can see that it was a very short-bladed scissors, since the cutter had to take two snips over ‘keep away.’” “That is so. Someone, then, cut out the message with a pair of short-bladed scissors, pasted it with paste—” “Gum,” said Holmes. “With gum on to the paper. But I want to know why the word ‘moor’ should have been written?” “Because he could not find it in print. The other words were all simple and might be found in any issue, but ‘moor’ would be less common.” “Why, of course, that would explain it. Have you read anything else in this message, Mr. Holmes?” “There are one or two indications, and yet the utmost pains have been taken to remove all clues. The address, you observe is printed in rough characters. But the Times is a paper which is seldom found in any hands but those of the highly educated. We may take it, therefore, that the letter was composed by an educated man who wished to pose as an uneducated one, and his effort to conceal his own writing suggests that that writing might be known, or come to be known, by you. Again, you will observe that the words are not gummed on in an accurate line, but that some are much higher than others. ‘Life,’ for example is quite out of its proper place. That may point to carelessness or it may point to agitation and hurry upon the part of the cutter. On the whole I incline to the latter view, since the matter was evidently important, and it is unlikely that the composer of such a letter would be careless. If he were in a hurry it opens up the interesting question why he should be in a hurry, since any letter posted up to early morning would reach Sir Henry before he would leave his hotel. Did the composer fear an interruption—and from whom?” “We are coming now rather into the region of guesswork,” said Dr. Mortimer. “Say, rather, into the region where we balance probabilities and choose the most likely. It is the scientific use of the imagination, but we have always some material basis on which to start our speculation. Now, you would call it a guess, no doubt, but I am almost certain that this address has been written in a hotel.” “How in the world can you say that?” “If you examine it carefully you will see that both the pen and the ink have given the writer trouble. The pen has spluttered twice in a single word and has run dry three times in a short address, showing that there was very little ink in the bottle. Now, a private pen or ink-bottle is seldom allowed to be in such a state, and the combination of the two must be quite rare. But you know the hotel ink and the hotel pen, where it is rare to get anything else. Yes, I have very little hesitation in saying that could we examine the waste-paper baskets of the hotels around Charing Cross until we found the remains of the mutilated Times leader we could lay our hands straight upon the person who sent this singular message. Halloa! Halloa! What’s this?” He was carefully examining the foolscap, upon which the words were pasted, holding it only an inch or two from his eyes. “Well?” “Nothing,” said he, throwing it down. “It is a blank half-sheet of paper, without even a water-mark upon it. I think we have drawn as much as we can from this curious letter; and now, Sir Henry, has anything else of interest happened to you since you have been in London?” “Why, no, Mr. Holmes. I think not.” “You have not observed anyone follow or watch you?” “I seem to have walked right into the thick of a dime novel,” said our visitor. “Why in thunder should anyone follow or watch me?” “We are coming to that. You have nothing else to report to us before we go into this matter?” “Well, it depends upon what you think worth reporting.” “I think anything out of the ordinary routine of life well worth reporting.” Sir Henry smiled. “I don’t know much of British life yet, for I have spent nearly all my time in the States and in Canada. But I hope that to lose one of your boots is not part of the ordinary routine of life over here.” “You have lost one of your boots?” “My dear sir,” cried Dr. Mortimer, “it is only mislaid. You will find it when you return to the hotel. What is the use of troubling Mr. Holmes with trifles of this kind?” “Well, he asked me for anything outside the ordinary routine.” “Exactly,” said Holmes, “however foolish the incident may seem. You have lost one of your boots, you say?” “Well, mislaid it, anyhow. I put them both outside my door last night, and there was only one in the morning. I could get no sense out of the chap who cleans them. The worst of it is that I only bought the pair last night in the Strand, and I have never had them on.” “If you have never worn them, why did you put them out to be cleaned?” “They were tan boots and had never been varnished. That was why I put them out.” “Then I understand that on your arrival in London yesterday you went out at once and bought a pair of boots?” “I did a good deal of shopping. Dr. Mortimer here went round with me. You see, if I am to be squire down there I must dress the part, and it may be that I have got a little careless in my ways out West. Among other things I bought these brown boots—gave six dollars for them—and had one stolen before ever I had them on my feet.” “It seems a singularly useless thing to steal,” said Sherlock Holmes. “I confess that I share Dr. Mortimer’s belief that it will not be long before the missing boot is found.” “And, now, gentlemen,” said the baronet with decision, “it seems to me that I have spoken quite enough about the little that I know. It is time that you kept your promise and gave me a full account of what we are all driving at.” “Your request is a very reasonable one,” Holmes answered. “Dr. Mortimer, I think you could not do better than to tell your story as you told it to us.” Thus encouraged, our scientific friend drew his papers from his pocket and presented the whole case as he had done upon the morning before. Sir Henry Baskerville listened with the deepest attention and with an occasional exclamation of surprise. “Well, I seem to have come into an inheritance with a vengeance,” said he when the long narrative was finished. “Of course, I’ve heard of the hound ever since I was in the nursery. It’s the pet story of the family, though I never thought of taking it seriously before. But as to my uncle’s death—well, it all seems boiling up in my head, and I can’t get it clear yet. You don’t seem quite to have made up your mind whether it’s a case for a policeman or a clergyman.” “Precisely.” “And now there’s this affair of the letter to me at the hotel. I suppose that fits into its place.” “It seems to show that someone knows more than we do about what goes on upon the moor,” said Dr. Mortimer. “And also,” said Holmes, “that someone is not ill-disposed towards you, since they warn you of danger.” “Or it may be that they wish, for their own purposes, to scare me away.” “Well, of course, that is possible also. I am very much indebted to you, Dr. Mortimer, for introducing me to a problem which presents several interesting alternatives. But the practical point which we now have to decide, Sir Henry, is whether it is or is not advisable for you to go to Baskerville Hall.” “Why should I not go?” “There seems to be danger.” “Do you mean danger from this family fiend or do you mean danger from human beings?” “Well, that is what we have to find out.” “Whichever it is, my answer is fixed. There is no devil in hell, Mr. Holmes, and there is no man upon earth who can prevent me from going to the home of my own people, and you may take that to be my final answer.” His dark brows knitted and his face flushed to a dusky red as he spoke. It was evident that the fiery temper of the Baskervilles was not extinct in this their last representative. “Meanwhile,” said he, “I have hardly had time to think over all that you have told me. It’s a big thing for a man to have to understand and to decide at one sitting. I should like to have a quiet hour by myself to make up my mind. Now, look here, Mr. Holmes, it’s half-past eleven now and I am going back right away to my hotel. Suppose you and your friend, Dr. Watson, come round and lunch with us at two. I’ll be able to tell you more clearly then how this thing strikes me.” “Is that convenient to you, Watson?” “Perfectly.” “Then you may expect us. Shall I have a cab called?” “I’d prefer to walk, for this affair has flurried me rather.” “I’ll join you in a walk, with pleasure,” said his companion. “Then we meet again at two o’clock. Au revoir, and good-morning!” We heard the steps of our visitors descend the stair and the bang of the front door. In an instant Holmes had changed from the languid dreamer to the man of action. “Your hat and boots, Watson, quick! Not a moment to lose!” He rushed into his room in his dressing-gown and was back again in a few seconds in a frock-coat. We hurried together down the stairs and into the street. Dr. Mortimer and Baskerville were still visible about two hundred yards ahead of us in the direction of Oxford Street. “Shall I run on and stop them?” “Not for the world, my dear Watson. I am perfectly satisfied with your company if you will tolerate mine. Our friends are wise, for it is certainly a very fine morning for a walk.” He quickened his pace until we had decreased the distance which divided us by about half. Then, still keeping a hundred yards behind, we followed into Oxford Street and so down Regent Street. Once our friends stopped and stared into a shop window, upon which Holmes did the same. An instant afterwards he gave a little cry of satisfaction, and, following the direction of his eager eyes, I saw that a hansom cab with a man inside which had halted on the other side of the street was now proceeding slowly onward again. “There’s our man, Watson! Come along! We’ll have a good look at him, if we can do no more.” At that instant I was aware of a bushy black beard and a pair of piercing eyes turned upon us through the side window of the cab. Instantly the trapdoor at the top flew up, something was screamed to the driver, and the cab flew madly off down Regent Street. Holmes looked eagerly round for another, but no empty one was in sight. Then he dashed in wild pursuit amid the stream of the traffic, but the start was too great, and already the cab was out of sight. “There now!” said Holmes bitterly as he emerged panting and white with vexation from the tide of vehicles. “Was ever such bad luck and such bad management, too? Watson, Watson, if you are an honest man you will record this also and set it against my successes!” “Who was the man?” “I have not an idea.” “A spy?”
This would be a good interaction for radio because of the amount of dialogue that is said in quick succession as well as how it progresses the plot. There is a lot of emotions going through this dialogue, from puzzlement to excitement. It would be a nice range of emotions for a radio version.
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“Really, Watson, you excel yourself,” said Holmes, pushing back his chair and lighting a cigarette. “I am bound to say that in all the accounts which you have been so good as to give of my own small achievements you have habitually underrated your own abilities. It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but you are a conductor of light. Some people without possessing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it. I confess, my dear fellow, that I am very much in your debt.” He had never said as much before, and I must admit that his words gave me keen pleasure, for I had often been piqued by his indifference to my admiration and to the attempts which I had made to give publicity to his methods. I was proud, too, to think that I had so far mastered his system as to apply it in a way which earned his approval. He now took the stick from my hands and examined it for a few minutes with his naked eyes. Then with an expression of interest he laid down his cigarette, and carrying the cane to the window, he looked over it again with a convex lens. “Interesting, though elementary,” said he as he returned to his favourite corner of the settee. “There are certainly one or two indications upon the stick. It gives us the basis for several deductions.” “Has anything escaped me?” I asked with some self-importance. “I trust that there is nothing of consequence which I have overlooked?” “I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your conclusions were erroneous. When I said that you stimulated me I meant, to be frank, that in noting your fallacies I was occasionally guided towards the truth. Not that you are entirely wrong in this instance. The man is certainly a country practitioner. And he walks a good deal.” “Then I was right.” “To that extent.” “But that was all.” “No, no, my dear Watson, not all—by no means all. I would suggest, for example, that a presentation to a doctor is more likely to come from a hospital than from a hunt, and that when the initials ‘C.C.’ are placed before that hospital the words ‘Charing Cross’ very naturally suggest themselves.” “You may be right.” “The probability lies in that direction. And if we take this as a working hypothesis we have a fresh basis from which to start our construction of this unknown visitor.” “Well, then, supposing that ‘C.C.H.’ does stand for ‘Charing Cross Hospital,’ what further inferences may we draw?” “Do none suggest themselves? You know my methods. Apply them!” “I can only think of the obvious conclusion that the man has practised in town before going to the country.”
I think that this would be a good scene to open a Sherlock Holmes movie. It would let the audience know exactly what Sherlock is like, how he is a genius, but also kind of does not understand how people cannot use his methods.
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“I have in my pocket a manuscript,” said Dr. James Mortimer. “I observed it as you entered the room,” said Holmes. “It is an old manuscript.” “Early eighteenth century, unless it is a forgery.” “How can you say that, sir?” “You have presented an inch or two of it to my examination all the time that you have been talking. It would be a poor expert who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may possibly have read my little monograph upon the subject. I put that at 1730.” “The exact date is 1742.” Dr. Mortimer drew it from his breast-pocket. “This family paper was committed to my care by Sir Charles Baskerville, whose sudden and tragic death some three months ago created so much excitement in Devonshire. I may say that I was his personal friend as well as his medical attendant. He was a strong-minded man, sir, shrewd, practical, and as unimaginative as I am myself. Yet he took this document very seriously, and his mind was prepared for just such an end as did eventually overtake him.” Holmes stretched out his hand for the manuscript and flattened it upon his knee. “You will observe, Watson, the alternative use of the long s and the short. It is one of several indications which enabled me to fix the date.” I looked over his shoulder at the yellow paper and the faded script. At the head was written: “Baskerville Hall,” and below in large, scrawling figures: “1742.” “It appears to be a statement of some sort.” “Yes, it is a statement of a certain legend which runs in the Baskerville family.” “But I understand that it is something more modern and practical upon which you wish to consult me?” “Most modern. A most practical, pressing matter, which must be decided within twenty-four hours. But the manuscript is short and is intimately connected with the affair. With your permission I will read it to you.”
I saw Sherlock Holmes movie and Imagine this chapter being this remake for film. I picture on my head as a comid film, twisted comedy
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I confess at these words a shudder passed through me. There was a thrill in the doctor’s voice which showed that he was himself deeply moved by that which he told us. Holmes leaned forward in his excitement and his eyes had the hard, dry glitter which shot from them when he was keenly interested. “You saw this?” “As clearly as I see you.” “And you said nothing?” “What was the use?” “How was it that no one else saw it?” “The marks were some twenty yards from the body and no one gave them a thought. I don’t suppose I should have done so had I not known this legend.” “There are many sheep-dogs on the moor?” “No doubt, but this was no sheep-dog.” “You say it was large?” “Enormous.” “But it had not approached the body?” “No.” “What sort of night was it?’ “Damp and raw.” “But not actually raining?” “No.” “What is the alley like?” “There are two lines of old yew hedge, twelve feet high and impenetrable. The walk in the centre is about eight feet across.” “Is there anything between the hedges and the walk?” “Yes, there is a strip of grass about six feet broad on either side.” “I understand that the yew hedge is penetrated at one point by a gate?” “Yes, the wicket-gate which leads on to the moor.” “Is there any other opening?” “None.” “So that to reach the yew alley one either has to come down it from the house or else to enter it by the moor-gate?” “There is an exit through a summer-house at the far end.” “Had Sir Charles reached this?” “No; he lay about fifty yards from it.” “Now, tell me, Dr. Mortimer—and this is important—the marks which you saw were on the path and not on the grass?” “No marks could show on the grass.” “Were they on the same side of the path as the moor-gate?” “Yes; they were on the edge of the path on the same side as the moor-gate.” “You interest me exceedingly. Another point. Was the wicket-gate closed?” “Closed and padlocked.” “How high was it?” “About four feet high.” “Then anyone could have got over it?” “Yes.” “And what marks did you see by the wicket-gate?” “None in particular.” “Good heaven! Did no one examine?” “Yes, I examined, myself.” “And found nothing?” “It was all very confused. Sir Charles had evidently stood there for five or ten minutes.” “How do you know that?” “Because the ash had twice dropped from his cigar.” “Excellent! This is a colleague, Watson, after our own heart. But the marks?” “He had left his own marks all over that small patch of gravel. I could discern no others.” Sherlock Holmes struck his hand against his knee with an impatient gesture. “If I had only been there!” he cried. “It is evidently a case of extraordinary interest, and one which presented immense opportunities to the scientific expert. That gravel page upon which I might have read so much has been long ere this smudged by the rain and defaced by the clogs of curious peasants. Oh, Dr. Mortimer, Dr. Mortimer, to think that you should not have called me in! You have indeed much to answer for.” “I could not call you in, Mr. Holmes, without disclosing these facts to the world, and I have already given my reasons for not wishing to do so. Besides, besides—” “Why do you hesitate?” “There is a realm in which the most acute and most experienced of detectives is helpless.” “You mean that the thing is supernatural?” “I did not positively say so.” “No, but you evidently think it.” “Since the tragedy, Mr. Holmes, there have come to my ears several incidents which are hard to reconcile with the settled order of Nature.” “For example?” “I find that before the terrible event occurred several people had seen a creature upon the moor which corresponds with this Baskerville demon, and which could not possibly be any animal known to science. They all agreed that it was a huge creature, luminous, ghastly, and spectral. I have cross-examined these men, one of them a hard-headed countryman, one a farrier, and one a moorland farmer, who all tell the same story of this dreadful apparition, exactly corresponding to the hell-hound of the legend. I assure you that there is a reign of terror in the district, and that it is a hardy man who will cross the moor at night.”
I consider thi chapter will make compelling scene in radio. It is a very interactive chapter. Radio its about verval iteraction
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But whatever the true explanation of Barrymore’s movements might be, I felt that the responsibility of keeping them to myself until I could explain them was more than I could bear. I had an interview with the baronet in his study after breakfast, and I told him all that I had seen. He was less surprised than I had expected. “I knew that Barrymore walked about nights, and I had a mind to speak to him about it,” said he. “Two or three times I have heard his steps in the passage, coming and going, just about the hour you name.” “Perhaps then he pays a visit every night to that particular window,” I suggested. “Perhaps he does. If so, we should be able to shadow him and see what it is that he is after. I wonder what your friend Holmes would do if he were here.” “I believe that he would do exactly what you now suggest,” said I. “He would follow Barrymore and see what he did.” “Then we shall do it together.” “But surely he would hear us.” “The man is rather deaf, and in any case we must take our chance of that. We’ll sit up in my room tonight and wait until he passes.” Sir Henry rubbed his hands with pleasure, and it was evident that he hailed the adventure as a relief to his somewhat quiet life upon the moor.
I would truly enjoy to see this small section played out in a visual adaptation because I feel like it could play off well by going back and forth from the actual description to a flash back of the events occurring and could be used to some interesting and impressive visual cinematography.
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The fresh beauty of the following morning did something to efface from our minds the grim and gray impression which had been left upon both of us by our first experience of Baskerville Hall. As Sir Henry and I sat at breakfast the sunlight flooded in through the high mullioned windows, throwing watery patches of colour from the coats of arms which covered them. The dark panelling glowed like bronze in the golden rays, and it was hard to realize that this was indeed the chamber which had struck such a gloom into our souls upon the evening before. “I guess it is ourselves and not the house that we have to blame!” said the baronet. “We were tired with our journey and chilled by our drive, so we took a gray view of the place. Now we are fresh and well, so it is all cheerful once more.” “And yet it was not entirely a question of imagination,” I answered. “Did you, for example, happen to hear someone, a woman I think, sobbing in the night?” “That is curious, for I did when I was half asleep fancy that I heard something of the sort. I waited quite a time, but there was no more of it, so I concluded that it was all a dream.” “I heard it distinctly, and I am sure that it was really the sob of a woman.” “We must ask about this right away.” He rang the bell and asked Barrymore whether he could account for our experience. It seemed to me that the pallid features of the butler turned a shade paler still as he listened to his master’s question. “There are only two women in the house, Sir Henry,” he answered. “One is the scullery-maid, who sleeps in the other wing. The other is my wife, and I can answer for it that the sound could not have come from her.” And yet he lied as he said it, for it chanced that after breakfast I met Mrs. Barrymore in the long corridor with the sun full upon her face. She was a large, impassive, heavy-featured woman with a stern set expression of mouth. But her telltale eyes were red and glanced at me from between swollen lids. It was she, then, who wept in the night, and if she did so her husband must know it. Yet he had taken the obvious risk of discovery in declaring that it was not so. Why had he done this? And why did she weep so bitterly? Already round this pale-faced, handsome, black-bearded man there was gathering an atmosphere of mystery and of gloom. It was he who had been the first to discover the body of Sir Charles, and we had only his word for all the circumstances which led up to the old man’s death. Was it possible that it was Barrymore, after all, whom we had seen in the cab in Regent Street? The beard might well have been the same. The cabman had described a somewhat shorter man, but such an impression might easily have been erroneous. How could I settle the point forever? Obviously the first thing to do was to see the Grimpen postmaster and find whether the test telegram had really been placed in Barrymore’s own hands. Be the answer what it might, I should at least have something to report to Sherlock Holmes.
This section would be a interesting section for a radio broadcast because it could be used to showcase a visual description just off the vocal words and the conversation could show the vocal levels used by the actors so that it would not have to be stated that he lied but instead we would know just by the voices.
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Our breakfast table was cleared early, and Holmes waited in his dressing-gown for the promised interview. Our clients were punctual to their appointment, for the clock had just struck ten when Dr. Mortimer was shown up, followed by the young baronet. The latter was a small, alert, dark-eyed man about thirty years of age, very sturdily built, with thick black eyebrows and a strong, pugnacious face. He wore a ruddy-tinted tweed suit and had the weather-beaten appearance of one who has spent most of his time in the open air, and yet there was something in his steady eye and the quiet assurance of his bearing which indicated the gentleman. “This is Sir Henry Baskerville,” said Dr. Mortimer. “Why, yes,” said he, “and the strange thing is, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, that if my friend here had not proposed coming round to you this morning I should have come on my own account. I understand that you think out little puzzles, and I’ve had one this morning which wants more thinking out than I am able to give it.” “Pray take a seat, Sir Henry. Do I understand you to say that you have yourself had some remarkable experience since you arrived in London?” “Nothing of much importance, Mr. Holmes. Only a joke, as like as not. It was this letter, if you can call it a letter, which reached me this morning.” He laid an envelope upon the table, and we all bent over it. It was of common quality, grayish in colour. The address, “Sir Henry Baskerville, Northumberland Hotel,” was printed in rough characters; the post-mark “Charing Cross,” and the date of posting the preceding evening. “Who knew that you were going to the Northumberland Hotel?” asked Holmes, glancing keenly across at our visitor. “No one could have known. We only decided after I met Dr. Mortimer.” “But Dr. Mortimer was no doubt already stopping there?” “No, I had been staying with a friend,” said the doctor. “There was no possible indication that we intended to go to this hotel.” “Hum! Someone seems to be very deeply interested in your movements.” Out of the envelope he took a half-sheet of foolscap paper folded into four. This he opened and spread flat upon the table. Across the middle of it a single sentence had been formed by the expedient of pasting printed words upon it. It ran: As you value your life or your reason keep away from the moor.
This passage feels like it was written specifically for a video adaption because of the detail in the descriptions of the guests and letter, but also leaving out much of the description of the scenery which would allow the director many artistic liberties to add in to improve or expand the mood and make the scene take on a more menacing tone.
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Dr. Mortimer refolded his paper and replaced it in his pocket. “Those are the public facts, Mr. Holmes, in connection with the death of Sir Charles Baskerville.” “I must thank you,” said Sherlock Holmes, “for calling my attention to a case which certainly presents some features of interest. I had observed some newspaper comment at the time, but I was exceedingly preoccupied by that little affair of the Vatican cameos, and in my anxiety to oblige the Pope I lost touch with several interesting English cases. This article, you say, contains all the public facts?” “It does.” “Then let me have the private ones.” He leaned back, put his finger-tips together, and assumed his most impassive and judicial expression. “In doing so,” said Dr. Mortimer, who had begun to show signs of some strong emotion, “I am telling that which I have not confided to anyone. My motive for withholding it from the coroner’s inquiry is that a man of science shrinks from placing himself in the public position of seeming to indorse a popular superstition. I had the further motive that Baskerville Hall, as the paper says, would certainly remain untenanted if anything were done to increase its already rather grim reputation. For both these reasons I thought that I was justified in telling rather less than I knew, since no practical good could result from it, but with you there is no reason why I should not be perfectly frank. “The moor is very sparsely inhabited, and those who live near each other are thrown very much together. For this reason I saw a good deal of Sir Charles Baskerville. With the exception of Mr. Frankland, of Lafter Hall, and Mr. Stapleton, the naturalist, there are no other men of education within many miles. Sir Charles was a retiring man, but the chance of his illness brought us together, and a community of interests in science kept us so. He had brought back much scientific information from South Africa, and many a charming evening we have spent together discussing the comparative anatomy of the Bushman and the Hottentot. “Within the last few months it became increasingly plain to me that Sir Charles’s nervous system was strained to the breaking point. He had taken this legend which I have read you exceedingly to heart—so much so that, although he would walk in his own grounds, nothing would induce him to go out upon the moor at night. Incredible as it may appear to you, Mr. Holmes, he was honestly convinced that a dreadful fate overhung his family, and certainly the records which he was able to give of his ancestors were not encouraging. The idea of some ghastly presence constantly haunted him, and on more than one occasion he has asked me whether I had on my medical journeys at night ever seen any strange creature or heard the baying of a hound. The latter question he put to me several times, and always with a voice which vibrated with excitement. “I can well remember driving up to his house in the evening some three weeks before the fatal event. He chanced to be at his hall door. I had descended from my gig and was standing in front of him, when I saw his eyes fix themselves over my shoulder and stare past me with an expression of the most dreadful horror. I whisked round and had just time to catch a glimpse of something which I took to be a large black calf passing at the head of the drive. So excited and alarmed was he that I was compelled to go down to the spot where the animal had been and look around for it. It was gone, however, and the incident appeared to make the worst impression upon his mind. I stayed with him all the evening, and it was on that occasion, to explain the emotion which he had shown, that he confided to my keeping that narrative which I read to you when first I came. I mention this small episode because it assumes some importance in view of the tragedy which followed, but I was convinced at the time that the matter was entirely trivial and that his excitement had no justification. “It was at my advice that Sir Charles was about to go to London. His heart was, I knew, affected, and the constant anxiety in which he lived, however chimerical the cause of it might be, was evidently having a serious effect upon his health. I thought that a few months among the distractions of town would send him back a new man. Mr. Stapleton, a mutual friend who was much concerned at his state of health, was of the same opinion. At the last instant came this terrible catastrophe. “On the night of Sir Charles’s death Barrymore the butler, who made the discovery, sent Perkins the groom on horseback to me, and as I was sitting up late I was able to reach Baskerville Hall within an hour of the event. I checked and corroborated all the facts which were mentioned at the inquest. I followed the footsteps down the yew alley, I saw the spot at the moor-gate where he seemed to have waited, I remarked the change in the shape of the prints after that point, I noted that there were no other footsteps save those of Barrymore on the soft gravel, and finally I carefully examined the body, which had not been touched until my arrival. Sir Charles lay on his face, his arms out, his fingers dug into the ground, and his features convulsed with some strong emotion to such an extent that I could hardly have sworn to his identity. There was certainly no physical injury of any kind. But one false statement was made by Barrymore at the inquest. He said that there were no traces upon the ground round the body. He did not observe any. But I did—some little distance off, but fresh and clear.” “Footprints?” “Footprints.” “A man’s or a woman’s?” Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he answered. “Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!”
This meeting between Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Mortimer would make a very interesting scene for a Radio broadcast specifically because it could focus specifically on the interactions between the two as well as their emotions can be played out well on the air, and it would force the audience to truly listen for these emotions rather than watch them play out and focus to much on extra images and sounds.
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- Sep 2016
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medium.com medium.com
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“Find your voice, shout it from the rooftops, and keep doing it until the people that are looking for you find you.”— Dan Harmon
Yes so your neighbors will hate your guts, and the cops can cite you haha
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Talk about the things you love
I think it's important to find your own voice and express yourself or your ideas. If not you will slowly become another "sheep" into today's society. So if you find something you love and are passionate about then you can find your voice and speak!
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The way to be able to take a punch is to practice getting hit a lot.
I find just this one line to be extremely powerful. If no one ever took chances and tried new things along with putting themselves out there I think society as a whole would be less developed and educated. Our parents always tell us to take risks and be ourselves and this line captures that perfectly.
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If you’re only pointing to your own stuff, you’re doing it wrong. If you want fans, you have to be a fan first. If you want to be noticed, you have to notice. Shut up and listen once in a while. Be thoughtful. Be considerate.
I really like this statement because not a lot of people follow this rule. It reminds me of the statement "respect is a two way street, you have to give it to get it." This follows that same aspect. Other people don't always want to hear about you, eventually they get bored. Sometimes you need to reciprocate the favor. It's not always a competition.
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But human beings are interested in other human beings and what other human beings do.
I really clicked with this line mainly because of what I've already learned in this class. There are various forms of social media that I never knew existed. This is a way for people to basically keep constant contact with one another. With flickr and youtube, you can actually see the person. With youtube and soundcloud you can hear the person. And with instagram, facebook, and twitter you can combine all of these things in one place. Just by reaching in our pockets, you can be in touch and see what is going on in another country with distant friends, family, and even strangers!
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Don’t say you don’t have enough time. We’re all busy, but we all get 24 hours a day. People often ask me, “How do you find the time?” And I answer, “I look for it.” You might have to miss an episode of your favorite TV show, you might have to miss an hour of sleep, but you can find the time if you look for it.
Finding time is a hard task for anybody, but some have a harder time than others. Everyone has a goal, but only some people strive for it. I think the most important part of finding time is choosing what you can sacrifice to make time for one of your goals.
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The way to be able to take a punch is to practice getting hit a lot. Put out a lot of work. Let people take their best shot at it. Then make even more work and keep putting it out there. The more criticism you take, the more you realize it can’t hurt you.
This quote stood out to me the most. A lot of people are afraid to speak their minds in fear of somebody else not liking what they have to say or disagreeing with them. It seems like a lot of the time people are more willing to give criticism than their own opinions, i'm probably guilty of that too.
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You might have to miss an episode of your favorite TV show, you might have to miss an hour of sleep, but you can find the time if you look for it.
This quote speaks to me because there are a lot of things I would like to do but I can never seem to find the time. Now there are limited hours in a day, thus one can never do absolutely everything they want to. But with different choices there would be more opportunities for me to expand my creativity, like not watching netflix.
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If you want followers, be someone worth following. Don’t be creepy. Don’t be a jerk. Don’t waste people’s time. Don’t ask too much. And don’t ever ever ask people to follow you. “Follow me back?” is the saddest question on the Internet.
I feel like people are too wrapped up in how many likes they get and how many followers they have these days. Instead of focusing on the quality of what you're doing or the passions you may have, it's the battle of who got the most likes on their insta pics.
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The minute you learn something, turn around and teach it to others.
This I have been trying to do since this past summer. Whenever I read a book or listened to an interesting podcast I would share what I learned with my family, friends and coworkers. At first I thought I would simply be annoying everyone, but it turned out very well. I provided my siblings with a wealth of knowledge, had constructive debates with friends, and learned new things from my coworkers.
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If you want people to know about what you do and the things you care about, you have to share.
This made me think of myself when I first started college. As an introvert it was extremely difficult making any friends. I realized that this was because I didn't share my interests with people. I would always just make small talk. But once I started to share my interests in stuff like music, sports and movies, I realized how much of a complete stranger I really was to these people. They knew nothing about me and it was due to me not expressing myself.
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Teaching people doesn’t subtract value from what you do, it actually adds to it.
Why accept failure when success is free. Do not be limited to things just because you do not have any knowledge or help. Create something out of nothing.You can always learn more than what the picture shows. Good advice to readers.
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When you teach someone how to do your work, you are, in effect, generating more interest in your work. People feel closer to your work because you’re letting them in on what you know.
People you know the most feel like you owe them. They have a sense of entitlement for the things you work hard for. I believe Kleon's observation is 100% accurate.
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Once a day, after you’ve done your day’s work, find one little piece of your process that you can share. Where you are in your process will determine what that piece is.
I find that I can personally work on this. I usually am more of a listener, and so I do not really like to talk about myself. I get very overwhelmed, and I am very aware if someone is no inerested in something. I like to have my projects speak for themselves. I do need to just be open and proud of the things I do. I do a lot of background work for things, so I think I would harder if I attached myself to my projects.
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Where do you get your inspiration? What sorts of things do you fill your head with?
I think this is so interesting. I know that at many points in my life I have wondered what other people are thinking in their head. I think this especially when you first meet someone. They notice things about you that you do not necessarily pay attention to about yourself. I like to think that we will never be like any other person in the world, whether it be in what we do for the day and what we are thinking. One minuscule thing can create a lightbulb moment in our heads, so whatever we think plays into that. Any moment can really be a light of inspiration. I think that is preety amazing. It is not just the physical objects and moments, but even just a feeling or emotional moment with someone else.
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It’s very important not to quit prematurely. The people who get what they’re after are very often the ones who just stick around long enough.
I thought this particular quote was insightful because there is a great deal of truth to it. Many things in life are all about perseverance. If you really want something, continue to stick around to see it through.
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So be ambitious. Keep yourself busy. Think bigger. Expand your audience. Don’t hobble yourself in the name of “keeping it real,” or “not selling out.” Try new things. If an opportunity comes along that will allow you to do more of the kind of work you want to do, say Yes. If an opportunity comes along that would mean more money, but less of the kind of work you want to do, say No.
This principle is something that I hold close to me at all times. Always strive for something bigger, always move in the direction that you want to move. Do not let others slow you down or tell you what you want to do.
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So study the great stories and then go find some of your own. Your stories will get better the more you tell them.
This reminds me of a piece of advice I saw from a comic artist: in order to find a style of comic art you like to create, trace someone else's comics until you know their style, then adapt the style to fit you and use it to tell your own story. It's so much harder to build something from scratch- why not build on scaffolding? As long as what you create is yours in the end, studying others can only help us improve.
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If you’re not ready to take the leap of sharing your own work with the world, you can share your tastes in the work of others
I know I really like seeing what my favorite authors and artists listen to and read. It makes me feel like I know them a little better; they become people, instead of just names. As a creator, sharing things about you invests your fans in you, as opposed to just your work.
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Where do you get your inspiration? What sorts of things do you fill your head with? What do you read? Do you subscribe to anything? What sites do you visit on the Internet? What music do you listen to? What movies do you see? Do you look at art? What do you collect? What’s inside your scrapbook? What do you pin to the corkboard above your desk? What do you stick on your refrigerator? Who’s done work that you admire? Who do you steal ideas from? Do you have any heroes? Who do you follow online? Who are the practitioners you look up to in your field?
A good set of questions to begin to find voice, and to pique latent aspects of identity that often go unsung.
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Talk about the things you love. Your voice will follow.
Capturing this feeling is a challenge, yet I think this leads into it well. I love nothing more than hearing someone talk about their passion. Thinking about it now, maybe this is the time our voices are the most clear and unfiltered.
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I used to worry a lot about voice, wondering if I had my own.
This is still something I have a hard time with and am working on.
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6. Teach what you know.
This is another favorite of mine. How would we know anything at all if it wasn't taught to us by someone first? It's a wonderful way to broaden our own minds and the minds of others. This creativity point was especially useful when I was a freshmen in college. I had to be taught the tools of the trade in order to be a good student and basically to survive. I now use all points of information everyone gave me, and pass it on to incoming freshmen.
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The way to be able to take a punch is to practice getting hit a lot. Put out a lot of work. Let people take their best shot at it. Then make even more work and keep putting it out there. The more criticism you take, the more you realize it can’t hurt you.
I really, really love this philosophy. The reason why this one stood apart from the others is because the first sentence in my annotation can apply to any life situation that you need/ need not to improve on (school, sports, work, relationships). I stand by the belief that a critic is the most important character in life, because in most cases their criticism gives birth to "the seeds we didn't know the soil held" ( a different way of thinking beyond our own imagination) . Although it may take many "hits" to sprout the seeds, the more exposure to criticism you have, the quicker an idea is born.
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When you put your work out into the world, you have to be ready for the good, the bad, and the ugly. The more people come across your work, the more criticism you’ll face.
I believe part of being a better person is learning how to take critics. Critics are not always going to be a good thing but they teach you how to improve yourself and make yourself a better person. Without criticism how would we learn from the past? indeed the more criticism you get, the stronger you become. Also when you do get criticized , that means that you are making an influence in the world and you are being seen.
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The minute you learn something, turn around and teach it to others
This statement is a very intellectual statement because part of the learning experience is teaching others, when you invest in someone’s learning, they will somehow invest in yours. There is no way this world would be educated if someone didn’t turn around and educate another person.
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Everybody loves a good story, but good storytelling doesn’t come easy to everybody. It’s a skill that takes a lifetime to master
We develop skills through trial and error and reflection and analysis - looking at what worked, what didn't, and why. So it's okay if what we make isn't as good as we'd like it to be, as long as we learn something from the experience.
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Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you.
Tags
Annotators
- cstaier
- fredaosei
- afroney
- elitebiz
- Abbissss
- YouveGotToBeKittenMe
- phb256
- mfroelic
- tayllargardner
- kipdoe
- gcrunkhorn
- dvaldez95
- amacaran
- bensorensen1
URL
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ds106.us ds106.us
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There are no rules for good photographs, there are only good photographs.” -Ansel Adams
I really liked this quote. It makes photography feel more accessible to the average person and not just somebody with a high end camera and an art degree.
Tags
Annotators
URL
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ds106.evanmay.com ds106.evanmay.com
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I tried shuffling around some of the blocks of data inside the file, giving me
I like this one, it looks very scrapbook? Or Picasso.
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learning.instructure.com learning.instructure.com
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Real Rules: The basic structural constraints that form the foundation of standard English, such as articles precede nouns: “the apple,” “the elephant,” “the computer,” rather than “apple the,” “elephant the,” “computer the.” We aren’t conscious of these rules most of the time when we write, and we generally only violate them by pure accident. Invented Rules: These are the constraints invented by grammarians, the ones we’re told incessantly to follow. The shoulds of writing: a colon should precede a list, don’t split infinitives, an independent clause should be followed by a comma, etc. The word “invented” doesn’t necessarily suggest these rules are “wrong” (although some are), just that they have been normalized by writers and grammarians.
Grammar could be easier if the "exeptions", invented rules, is what I understand, just were easier
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Routine 5-paragraph essays are, frankly, easier to read and evaluate.
And for this reason I honestly believe people have figured out how to completely bs papers because it follows that structure. Writing papers are suppose to allow us to reiterate what we learned from an assignment but sometimes it just feels so forced that we say anything that fits in context to meet the basic requirements
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“what good is learning a rule if all we can do is obey it?”
This quote is so interesting. It goes long with the rebellious anthem, "rules are made to be broken". Rules are made to keep order and if obeyed, chaos may be avoided. There are some rules, though, that need to be refined, and those who step outside the confines highlight what is wrong with the current rule and helps allow people to indiviualize their thoughts and find new solutions and rules to any range of issues.
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hybridpedagogy.org hybridpedagogy.org
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How is literature and our reading of it being changed by computers? What influence does the container for a text have on its content? To what degree does immersion in a text depend upon the physicality of its interface? How are evolving technologies (like the iPad) helping to enliven (or disengage us from) the materiality of literary texts?
I like this part because it makes me think about how good is technology but at the same time it is really bad. It help us to be smart and It also makes us stupid.
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How is literature and our reading of it being changed by computers? What influence does the container for a text have on its content? To what degree does immersion in a text depend upon the physicality of its interface? How are evolving technologies (like the iPad) helping to enliven (or disengage us from) the materiality of literary texts?
For me, I don't like reading from a screen. Having a physical book always triumphs reading on a iPad. Physical books are much easier to navigate, easier to read and feels more natural in comparison to reading from some sort of technology.
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www.samplereality.com www.samplereality.com
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I don’t care much about the canon, except as a means to clue us in to what stands outside the canon. We should create and pay attention to bots that don’t fit the canon. And protest bots should be among these bots. We need bots that are not (or not merely) funny, random, or comprehensive. We need bots that are the algorithmic equivalent of the Wobblies’ Little Red Songbook, bots that fan the flames of discontent. We need bots of conviction.
shows power!!
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One answer is the protest bot. A computer program that reveals the injustice and inequality of the world and imagines alternatives. A computer program that says who’s to praise and who’s to blame. A computer program that questions how, when, who and why. A computer program whose indictments are so specific you can’t mistake them for bullshit. A computer program that does all this automatically.
This is artificial intelligence at its finest. I can only imagine the amount of conditional statements need to create these bots.
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blog.mahabali.me blog.mahabali.me
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When I created a domain, it didn’t become mine.
He's saying that the domain will never actually become his because he's paying someone for it and they can take it away from him at any moment.
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But at the same time, don't we have to pay for every utility that we use? In the "real world" we have to pay for electricity, water, internet, and phone bills. At least the way that I see it, by paying for a domain we are simply paying for a utility.
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I don’t own the domain name. I pay for it every year. That looks like rent
I've seen domains go from 99 cents to $50,000. I only pay Nine dollars per year for my domain but still it does feel more like rent rather than me actually owning it.
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My understanding of ownership is that something belongs to me. That I have already acquired it or been gifted it. And I own it until I die, no additional payment required. If I own it and I die, it passes to my heirs.
It's interesting to see both versions of ownership. I at times do agree with Maha that id I can't pass it on then what's the point but I also see that technology is a lot less communicable. The internet is constantly in flux so really we don't own anything when it comes to the internet that can be passed on.
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ds106.us ds106.us
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These temporal blog-publishing projects partake of many social media qualities. First, they often trigger active audience contributions.
It is interesting to read further into this article and see that blogging is basically the foundation of what we call social media today. We have facebook, twitter, and myspace (though old now) amongst others that you wouldn't view as "storytelling" but in reality it is. It "triggers" your audience to engage with you and tell their thoughts and opinions on what you post. It allows someone to share happiness and good things that are happening in their life. While this is a good thing, it can also trigger contributions like a political debate or touchy news topics. I can't help but feel that while active contributions from the audiences you attract is good, it can sometimes be dangerous. Its really cool to see the transformation in time though.
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It is likely that some of the platforms and styles we explore here will be outmoded or replaced by the time you read this
I feel this is really true. I was in about middle school when everyone had a Myspace and Instant message though their e-mail platform. Though just a couple years later Myspace was retired to the land of forgotten sites when Facebook came and took the crown from Myspace among my peers.
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Blogging may well be the most visible and accessible form of Web 2.0 storytelling. It is one of the oldest social media authoring platforms, allow-ing at least a decade of steady creation to provide a wealth of experiment
I feel that though blogging is a storytelling form of social media. I feel that it lends itself more to the form of nonfiction writing than it does a fiction. Most blogs that I have seen have something to do with the bloggers own personal life than them telling a fictional story or showing. Though there are some blogs dedicated to fiction writing, I have one for my fiction seminar and also had it for my 302 English class. It's when I think of blog I think someone talking about their life experiences than fiction writing.
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The leading social media site for images, Flickr, offers many examples of the different ways social images can tell stories.
This alludes to the old saying "a picture is worth a thousand words". I picture can give a more meaningful depiction of a story than written dialogue can, but is still don't believe it captures the entire story. While it does show more emotion than words, it doesn't necessarily show the authors thoughts.
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Second, people can take turns advancing a story through a wiki, round robin style. One editor (which can be a single person or a group clustered around one computer) writes something and then hands off the URL to another creator. The second editor adds to the story, but cannot subtract.
This is a very interesting aspect of digital storytelling. It is also one of the few digital mediums that real life cannot replicate. Wikis allow a story to be suspended in time indefinitely and allow others story tellers to build off of it. So at any given time the reader can see a collaboration of multiple story tellers presented in one story.
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B u t e v e n n o n f i c t i o n a l b l o g s p r e s e n t t h e m s e l v e s a s c h a r a c t e r s .
This is very true. Even if somebody blogs about their beliefs the readers only experience one aspect of the author. This is where interactions on the internet fall short when compared to real life interactions. You can read someones thoughts on the internet, but you can't establish an emotional connection that comes from the authors physical tendencies and expressions. You can read a bloggers beliefs and try to understand them, but its hard to grasp the context of their beliefs without physically talking to them.
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, I found myself thinking of each blog as the stu-dent ’ s self-representation, far more than I had through such other digital teaching tools as discussion boards and Web 1.0–style Web pages.
In this particular anecdote the author took the words right out of my mouth. The cool thing about blogging is that everyone starts with a blank canvas that they can customize and fill with there own content versus other social media sites that give you a pre-made structure like facebook.
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T h e p e r s o n a l a s p e c t o f b l o g s h a s p e r s i s t e d o v e r t h e p a s t d e c a d e , s i m u l t a -neously complemented by other interpretations: group blogs, community blogs, intranet blogs for corporate knowledge management, newspaper blogs, and so on.
I think this statement displays the broad range of different benefits that can be seen in blogging. As the first sentence of my annotation states, over the past decade blogging has exploded and evolved into and internet empire. Blogs can be used at communal and international levels. No longer are they just used for personal intimacy, but to portray updated information in chronological order to others about pretty much any anything. The best thing about it is that its all in one place. From news, to business information, to education, all the materials you need to comprehend a site are just a view away.
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“Facebook is the novel we are all writing.”
A novel composed of 50% political memes, it seems.
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Taken together, the several voices of Dionaea House comprise a sin-gle, interlinked story. Characters refer to each other by addressing them, describing their actions to a third party, or linking to their Web content.
This article continues to surprise me with the different ways that storytelling can be done. The Dionaea project links several sites to create a complex story. It even allows the audience to leave comments. This sort of interaction brings the audience closer to the story and to others that are reading it as well. This sort of storytelling could and should be more popular in my opinion.
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This discussion of social media storytelling has focused on those plat-forms driven by text and images.
I never blogged much growing up or now, but I can definitely see platforms like Twitter and Facebook that focus on shorter texts and pictures, taking the spotlight away from blogging. They are simpler, have a larger accessible audience and have more interaction such as "liking", sharing and retweeting each others content.
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Each story consists solely of five images in a linear sequence. A title is the only bit of text allowed and hence serves as the only explanation of what the images reveal, although cre-ators sometimes sneak in several words within the description field.
Such a cool idea, such a simple concept with endless possibilities. The 5 same images could tell a completely different story based on its sequence arrangement. Going to have to try it out.
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These may not be stories, like the Fénéon republication, but they certainly establish a character over time. They may also take advantage of the very short form to attempt other, preexisting short forms, such as the haiku.
I've never had a twitter up until this class so I've never really known much about Twitter, much less as a tool for blogging. But after reading this section its clear that it has many of the same roots as traditional blogging, such as its variability in story telling and formatting.
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he personal sense asso-ciated with diaries also enabled “blogger” to emerge as a category, even a professional identity, letting us think of blogs as character vehicles.
In high school I was an avid reader of a few lifestyle blogs and over time the bloggers would follow me back after gaining a relationship through comments and still follow each other today
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the first commentator shared his thoughts about the characters. David40 then asked, “Why is Jack drawn to Renfield during his period of pining for Lucy?” Babyjinx offered an explanation, then David40 responded. Next Elizabeth Miller, one of the world ’ s leading Dracula scholars, commented about Renfield ’ s name: “The name ‘Renfield’ never appears in Stoker ’ s Notes. The character is there from the outset, but he is referred to as either the Mad Patient or the Flyman.” More discussion ensued.
After being used to using Facebook and other social media where I at least "sort of" know the friends/ followers that I have, I often forget how easy it is to interact with complete strangers. This interaction between random commentators and a renowned scholar reminded me of the power of connectivity that the internet really has.
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Bloggers are characters. Each blogger demonstrates a persona, to whatever degree of fiction. These personalities are shown over time, according to the serial nature of digital storytelling.
This means that a blogger can become a different person than they usually are when they are writing if they want.
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Blogs reveal authors ’ personae through posts, but also through other content contained on the blog site. Blogrolls, for example, show intended affiliations and interests. “About” pages can contain small (or large) autobi-ographies
How we discover our characters in the modern age of blogging which is different than story telling of the past, but also makes it more available
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These personalities are shown over time, according to the serial nature of digital storytelling.
after watching a blog for a while, you start to get to know the blogger much better
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bloggers present themselves as characters
I would say that people typically only show one or two sides of themselves while blogging- you don't really see them "in the wild", and thus they become by default more as characters and less as real people.
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ess tidy, but more real.
I feel like people tend to see history as this sanitized version where nobody ever smiled, and everybody was serious all the time- because those are the photos and the transcripts that survived. The humanizing of history is so cool (and it shows that humor hasn't really changed over the past few decades, either).
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MySpace page
another blast from the past- it makes me wonder what they'll think of classes like this and the content we'll create in 10 years' time
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appear wishing him well and offering helpful advice.
this reminds me of reddit, actually, in particular /nosleep. In stories like "there are people outside my window during blackouts" the author will include remarks about the comments on the story.
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Second, some of this content may disappear
Except the Space Jam website. That content will never disappear.
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I CAN HAZ LIMELIGHT NOW? . . .
This is the problem with using memes in a story that is supposed to exist outside its time- my first thought on reading that was not "oh, futuristic" but rather "what is this, middle school??". This is supposed to take place in 2017- now less than 4 months away- but nobody now would actually say this unless they were deliberately being annoying. Any troll would use a current meme, not an outdated one like this.
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“Link rot”
Never heard this term before- I've always heard "the link expired" or just "the link doesn't work". I like "link rot"- it paints the internet as a living, growing thing.
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From the first days of the form, its similarity to diaries pro-vided a ready comparison to that classic narrative tool, and easy ways to think about both production and consumption.
I always thought of a blog relating to a journal or diary entry. Very fascinating point there.
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he blog-as-diary concept became recognizable enough to appear as a device in fiction. Bruce Sterling used this approach to tell a short story about a hyperlocal, yet very mobile, future. The blogger-narrator describes the rocky course of his engagement, while noting developments in net.art, social media, and general technology along the way
Blogs are very helpful to get your ideas out and let others see what you have on your mind. I relate to Bruce Sterling, because I feel like blogs have a purpose and that's to tell a fascinating story.
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Blogs are diaries: This metaphor has been a powerful one, especially as a heuristic to explain the odd-sounding technology to newcomers.
So I was right! My definition of a Blog would be, a website containing a writer's own experiences and observations.
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Second, some of this content may disappear
Thinking about storytelling in the context of being temporary versus permanent is interesting. Digital stories are temporary and can vanish after a given amount of time. Paper stories, unless they are physically destroyed, are permanent. This is not to say that one kind of story or story telling is more important than another, but to say that each type has something unique to offer.
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These personalities are shown over time, according to the serial nature of digital storytelling.
I completely agree that everyone has a digital personality. I also think that everyone's digital personality is dynamic, in that it is always changing due to influences in our daily lives that provide us with new perspectives.
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Second, some of this content may disappea
Thinking about stories through the context of their temporary versus permanent nature is interesting. Paper copies, unless physically destroyed, are permanent, but digital stories and information eventually vanish. However, I would argue that this does not mean one is more important than the other.
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e personal sense asso-ciated with diaries also enabled “blogger” to emerge as a category, even a professional identity, letting us think of blogs as character vehicles.
I've always liked how blogs are so personal to the blogger, but so many others can relate and get something from others blogging about their person experiences
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authors can collaborate on stories through wikis as a form of docu-ment hosting. Any number can take turns editing a text, adding, delet-ing, or modifying words.
I think it would be very fascinating if we as a class got to do a wiki type blog. For example, a problem could be given to the class and everyone would have the opportunity to go into the blog and edit the answer to their best knowledge. Although it would turn out to be annoying to the students, the instructor could just sit back and watch how his students think and get an idea of how informed his students are pertaining to that topic.
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Readers can enter into dialogue with the story through blog comments
I think this style is very excited because readers can determine how/where the story goes. It gives readers a sense of attachment with the story.
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, I found myself thinking of each blog as the stu-dent ’ s self-representation, far more than I had through such other digital teaching tools as discussion boards and Web 1.0–style Web pages. They felt like personae, the face of the student in my class, as opposed to their broader life.
When I first realized that we were going to create blogs for this class, I thought our blogs were going to be like every other social media where our whole lives are on it but then I later realized that it is just going to be "our whole lives dealing with ds106"(although we can personalize it to represent ourselves).
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Each blogger demonstrates a persona, to whatever degree of fiction.
I agree with this because of when I blog. I am not a very good blogger, but the process of doing it has helped me become a better person. When I blog I feel more freeing and confident with what I have to say. Most of the things that I blog are things I would never say out loud. The things I blog are usually what I keep in my head. I become a better version of myself through this process.
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The personal sense asso-ciated with diaries also enabled “blogger” to emerge as a category, even a professional identity, letting us think of blogs as character vehicles. This, too, situates blogs well for story thinking
I found this interesting because there are many famous bloggers and internet people who just used the internet, and they have made it into their life. They have created an income out of a job no one thought before could be a job. A blog has a more "personal" feel that feels like the reader can relate to the writer. It is a crazy paradox of reading a blog like a personal conversation with someone, and then it being projected for anyone in the world to see. I have a blog, so I find it therapeutic, and now you can do that and make a pretty big impact.
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Its blurring of the boundary between fiction and nonfiction par-allels its storytelling stance straddling content authorship and audience co-creation. 4
This plays into the idea of to not believe everything you see on the Internet. Since posts become viral some people on the internet might exaggerate their story, or have an attention grabbing title. A clickbait post. There are blogs meant to tell a story to relieve you of your troubles, or just to give you a good laugh. There are also the ones that create the story to fit their intention.
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www.theatlantic.com www.theatlantic.com
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the creative aspect of thinking is concerned only with the selection of the data and the process to be employed and the manipulation thereafter is repetitive in nature and hence a fit matter to be relegated to the machine.
The internet has plenty of things that are not real or that are manipulated, It is up to us to do research.
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Mere compression, of course, is not enough; one needs not only to make and store a record but also be able to consult it, and this aspect of the matter comes later.
That is done now. All we need are keywords typed in a search engine, and we will find a lot about the subject a click away.
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Mendel's concept of the laws of genetics was lost to the world for a generation because his publication did not reach the few who were capable of grasping and extending it; and this sort of catastrophe is undoubtedly being repeated all about us
I think thatis crazy. It is so easy for us to document what we are thinking, whether we are keeping it for ourselves or making it public. Without something like Mendel's concept of genetics we can only ask "what if?' when that could have beena missing piece in someone's research.
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hackeducation.com hackeducation.com
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You do not own your Amazon Kindle books; you’ve purchased a license to access the content
Company's tell you that you "own" things that you've purchased but you've actually just bought the license to borrow the product. Most people aren't well aware of this because then it would make people angry that they don't actually "own" it.
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You don’t own the movies you watch via Netflix; again, it’s a subscription and unlike a print magazine subscription, once you stop paying the bill, you won’t have stacks of old copies lying about.
I really liked looking at it this way. It is really characteristic of a blog as though you may own it there is little to no proof. I always say I have (have as in own) a Netflix account even though I really down own any part of it.
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- Aug 2016
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medium.com medium.com
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We’re supposed to toil in secrecy, keeping our ideas and our work under lock and key, waiting until we have a magnificent product to show before we try to connect with others.
I like what he is saying because I think sometimes people want to seem "put together" in their lives and in their work. However, when we share the messiness and difficulty had with our work it can be more appreciated when it's finished, and maybe encourage people who are struggling with the same thing.
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If you want people to know about what you do and the things you care about, you have to share. Talk about the things you love. Your voice will follow.
This part stuck out to me because I struggle with this. He is reminding us that someone, somewhere has the same passions and interests and us and we will never find these people unless we are bold enough to share.
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Think process, not product
As a whole, this tip is a true perspective changer. I took a class in which each assignment was 'graded' not on completion, but effort and creative process. The pressure associated with assignments is instantly relieved, leaving the opportunity for originality and extraordinary ideas to emerge.
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We’re always being told find your voice. When I was younger, I never really knew what this meant. I used to worry a lot about voice, wondering if I had my own. But now I realize that the only way to find your voice is to use it. It’s hardwired, built into you.
This portion of the article particularly grabbed my attention because I am a firm believer that those who try to find themselves are, in all reality, losing themselves in the same instant.
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- Jul 2016
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narrateannotate.wordpress.com narrateannotate.wordpress.com
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Use Hypothesis and add your second Daily Create as a public annotation to this blog post
Daily Create: Contrasting Emotions #ilt5340 #ds106 #tdc1655 pic.twitter.com/8Z8Z7RfFl9
— Erin (@ErinnMarieG) July 24, 2016<script async="" src="//<a href=" http:="" <a="" href="http://platform.twitter.com" target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener">platform.twitter.com="" widgets.js"="" target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener">platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>!
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second DS106 Daily Create
https://lfrappao.wordpress.com/2016/07/20/d-c-i-wish-i-were-somewhere-else/ I wish I were somewhere else
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Daily Create
https://lfrappao.wordpress.com/2016/07/20/d-c-logo-can-you-read-this/ Can you read this
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narrateannotate.wordpress.com narrateannotate.wordpress.com
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Use Hypothesis and add your second Daily Create as a public annotation to this blog post
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second DS106 Daily Create
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Daily Create
Daily Create #1656! https://twitter.com/t_edgar88/status/756231928378830849
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a public annotation to this blog post
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Daily Create
Daily create: Refute an expression.
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second DS106 Daily Create
Love Flea Markets but not Fleas
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second DS106 Daily Create
Every day is rest day, unless you're a gym cat.
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second DS106 Daily Create
Daily Create 1655: Contrasting Emotions!
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Produce
Daily Create: Contrasting emotions.
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Daily Create
TDC1654 Daily Create: Bad Logo!
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a public annotation
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Produce your first DS106 Daily Create
Inspired by "Insomnia"
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your first Daily Create
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first DS106 Daily Create
Dedicated to my upcoming trip to Iceland, I present to you my introduction in native Icelandic.
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narrateannotate.wordpress.com narrateannotate.wordpress.com
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second Daily Create
Side pony and peace:
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second DS106 Daily Create
Mapped my path...
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