After a year and a half hiatus, I am resuming command of the blog from the binary clutches of deep-cyberspace. In my defence, I can only apologise for the long blogging break. Moving jobs, finishing library school, discovering new e-resources - these things all take time.
Still, a new decade marks a new resolution to blog regularly about timely and interesting happenings. And although Twitter has been a part of my consciousness for some time now, I am still regulary required to leap to the defence of the online micro-blogging site.
Some of the most common phrases: "what's it all about anyway", "oh that's just FB status updates without all the other stuff", "I don't get the point of knowing whether someone's eaten an apple or not." However, Twitter isn't (or at least shouldn't) be like that. Yes, it encourages a form of status posting. Yes, one theoretically (and many do) could post the contents of one's breakfast. I admit that this type of tweeting does for me fulfil a deep seated need to know about random trivia.
However, the real power of Twitter lies not in its random statuses but in the sharing and linking of data across platforms and across multiple data sources.
Today from my followees I learnt about the latest CILIPCouncilBlog, I analysed the impact of foresquare loation-based tweets, found out about Mexican film screenings, saw how many libraries use or are in consultation with Nielson Bookdata, read about the latest debates in HE, realised that other people aside from me read the weekly LCSH 'new headings' list, found out that the Pope's UK visit will apparently cost an inordinate amount of money and signed a petition to state that the UK taxplayer should not be obliged to foot the bill. I follow 138 people. 99 follow me. I am listed in eight lists. I follow publishers, libraries, librarians, writers, comedians. I feel connected and enjoy seeing what other people do all day.
On a larger scale, by putting a # before a word in Twitter one creates 'trending topics' which then become real-time searches. We have such classics as #latenightlibrarian, #uksnow and #LCSH. I have recently been trying to introduce #creatureofhabit and #librarianonleave with varied amounts of success. My favourite current trends are #foodinlibraries and #omnomnom, so perfectly opposite in their hatred and love of eating.
Kitteh speak becomes more commonplace in tweets as lolcat language takes over. There is a relaxed and convival atmosphere which gives birth to the perfect medium through which to share professional anecdotes about successful initiatives or dismal failures.
This is my main purpose for using and contributing to Twitter, to become connected within a connected world, to join a network of information professionals who all support and embrace the future and future technology. Oh and of course, I am missing Stephen Fry. Please write your latest book soon and come back to the Twitter-verse. K? Plsnthx.
Thursday, 4 February 2010
Thursday, 20 November 2008
The most depressing thing I've heard someone say in a long while...
"Well, no one uses LCSH anymore do they? I mean, it's all just keyword searching now."
Nooooooo. All those hours trying to get those semantic relationships just right...please tell me that someone cares!
After all, Great Britain -> Foreign Relations -> United States
is the total opposite in meaning to
United States -> Foreign Relations -> Great Britain
and if the book was about both, then LCSH give you a way to exhibit both.
Not quite the same as just typing 'Obama' and crossing your fingers now is it.
Tsk.
Nooooooo. All those hours trying to get those semantic relationships just right...please tell me that someone cares!
After all, Great Britain -> Foreign Relations -> United States
is the total opposite in meaning to
United States -> Foreign Relations -> Great Britain
and if the book was about both, then LCSH give you a way to exhibit both.
Not quite the same as just typing 'Obama' and crossing your fingers now is it.
Tsk.
FRBR
Functional requirements for bibliographic records; the conceptual model which is about to redefine the bibliographic universe. Group one entities finally give us a more precise terminology to use when dealing with reference questions; after all, 'I want to read this book' is a substantially different statement to 'I left this book on the desk a second ago but now it's disappeared.' Thus we now have a work, an expression, a manifestation and an item. We are able to draw together and cluster all results about a work. Take for example Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. In accordance with the new database structures that are growing up around FRBR principles, we could have one record for the work, and then attach multiple manifestation records to that to include original text, different editions, film adaptations and even Baz Luhrman's soundtrack.
FRBR is starting to have an impact on standards, evident in RDA. RDA, designed as the next step from AACR2, is structured very closely around the principles of FRBR. FRBR looks at user tasks, namely: to find, to identify, to select and to obtain. The bibliographic record is then checked for these elements to determine the extent to which the catalogue is meeting the needs of users. Which is great. But one of the main problems, and not to sound condescending, is that quite often our users are not sure what they want until they browse the catalogue. Currently the OPAC may bring up books about Romeo and Juliet as well as the text itself. For FRBR, this is a problem. However, in the interests of serendipity, perhaps this is not such a bad thing.
With a modicum of search training, a user is able to use the OPAC sufficiently. And dates of editions are always displayed. It worries me that the FRBR model would lead us to provide new 'manifestation' link records for each reprint of a book; technically it is a new entity although the intellectual content remains identical. I can see how useful FRBR would be to literary and musical works, but the impact seems reduced within the sciences.
The other major issue concerns the impact upon MARC21. If AACR2 is seen as predating computerised cataloguing, then MARC21 can be viewed as a means of creating nothing more than a computerised catalogue card. However, despite the format's limitations in terms of data extraction, we currently have several million records in this format worldwide. Quite what will happen to them is unclear. Perhaps it is time for a new encoding set to be introduced, one with more flexibility and functionality. And yet somehow the idea of converting all those records from one format to another seems like an awfully big adventure.
FRBR is starting to have an impact on standards, evident in RDA. RDA, designed as the next step from AACR2, is structured very closely around the principles of FRBR. FRBR looks at user tasks, namely: to find, to identify, to select and to obtain. The bibliographic record is then checked for these elements to determine the extent to which the catalogue is meeting the needs of users. Which is great. But one of the main problems, and not to sound condescending, is that quite often our users are not sure what they want until they browse the catalogue. Currently the OPAC may bring up books about Romeo and Juliet as well as the text itself. For FRBR, this is a problem. However, in the interests of serendipity, perhaps this is not such a bad thing.
With a modicum of search training, a user is able to use the OPAC sufficiently. And dates of editions are always displayed. It worries me that the FRBR model would lead us to provide new 'manifestation' link records for each reprint of a book; technically it is a new entity although the intellectual content remains identical. I can see how useful FRBR would be to literary and musical works, but the impact seems reduced within the sciences.
The other major issue concerns the impact upon MARC21. If AACR2 is seen as predating computerised cataloguing, then MARC21 can be viewed as a means of creating nothing more than a computerised catalogue card. However, despite the format's limitations in terms of data extraction, we currently have several million records in this format worldwide. Quite what will happen to them is unclear. Perhaps it is time for a new encoding set to be introduced, one with more flexibility and functionality. And yet somehow the idea of converting all those records from one format to another seems like an awfully big adventure.
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
RDA: a Really Decisive Action or a Relatively Disappointing Area?
So. Resource description and access has landed. Sort of. Every time I glance at planet cataloging, open my Update magazine, or happen to browse the CILIP website, there it is. Draft proposals. More draft proposals. And yet more - well, you get the idea.
Ann Chapman provides a really concisive overview of the new code in Update magazine this month. Yet, the more I read about it, the more I feel that I'm missing something.
I understand that AACR was developed in a pre-computerised world. In this world, the catalogue card was King. The main access entry point was Queen and the added entries were really just some half-royal illegitimate infants running blindly through the castle keep. Most information was printed in books. The nearest we came to the concept of multi-media was listening to cassette tapes on our oh-so-trendy walkmans. It is amazing that since then the world has changed so rapidly. Many people conduct so much of their lives in an online environment, not least their education. Although I am wary of falling into trap of believing in the simplistic "information society" worldview, no one can doubt that the impact of digital resources on many people's lives has been enormous.
In practical terms, for the library user this meant the development of the OPAC and enhanced searching facilities. In this environment, the card catalogue Kings were deposed by the people's republic of the online public access catalogue, thus rendering the concept of main and added entries obsolete for the user. As new forms of media developed, it became problematic to catalogue electronic, digital and mutli-media items within the world of AACR2.
Thus changes needed to be made, but I can't help wondering whether they have been the right ones. RDA seems to be concerned predominantly with updating the language and the layout of the cataloguing rules, which is fair enough and makes good sense. It also lets us catalogue non-print items in a more meaningful way; again, big points there. Yet attempting to have one code to cover all media, when said media all behave in such wildy different ways, is perhaps (and I say this only tentatively) not the easiest concept with which to identify. There is also issue of the millions of MARC records currently doing their job perfectly thank you very much; what will happen to those?
As RDA works on a FRBR model, there is a need for functionality, which is great. However, the concept of 'preferred' and 'variant' access points is a little worrying, especially when so much work is currently going into the NACO project.
The simplification of terms, for example ‘s.l.’ being replaced by statements such as ‘place not recorded’ or ‘place not known’, might be easier for new cataloguers but it concerns me that it may lead to a gradual decline of skill and a steady decline in the quality of bibliographic records.
It is a concern that, the further we simplify the skill of cataloguing, the further we thus move to a library management who believes that cataloguing could be automated. After all, save the salaries of cataloguers and speed up a mechanical process. Except that it isn't mechanical. It involves skill, a clear vision of local practice and user needs, and an ability to apply rules with skill and panache. However, I'm not saying that RDA will lead ultimately to this future, but we do have to be careful as cataloguers to raise our advocacy within the wider library community.
Practically, there seems like there will be little change. I suppose only time will tell.
Ann Chapman provides a really concisive overview of the new code in Update magazine this month. Yet, the more I read about it, the more I feel that I'm missing something.
I understand that AACR was developed in a pre-computerised world. In this world, the catalogue card was King. The main access entry point was Queen and the added entries were really just some half-royal illegitimate infants running blindly through the castle keep. Most information was printed in books. The nearest we came to the concept of multi-media was listening to cassette tapes on our oh-so-trendy walkmans. It is amazing that since then the world has changed so rapidly. Many people conduct so much of their lives in an online environment, not least their education. Although I am wary of falling into trap of believing in the simplistic "information society" worldview, no one can doubt that the impact of digital resources on many people's lives has been enormous.
In practical terms, for the library user this meant the development of the OPAC and enhanced searching facilities. In this environment, the card catalogue Kings were deposed by the people's republic of the online public access catalogue, thus rendering the concept of main and added entries obsolete for the user. As new forms of media developed, it became problematic to catalogue electronic, digital and mutli-media items within the world of AACR2.
Thus changes needed to be made, but I can't help wondering whether they have been the right ones. RDA seems to be concerned predominantly with updating the language and the layout of the cataloguing rules, which is fair enough and makes good sense. It also lets us catalogue non-print items in a more meaningful way; again, big points there. Yet attempting to have one code to cover all media, when said media all behave in such wildy different ways, is perhaps (and I say this only tentatively) not the easiest concept with which to identify. There is also issue of the millions of MARC records currently doing their job perfectly thank you very much; what will happen to those?
As RDA works on a FRBR model, there is a need for functionality, which is great. However, the concept of 'preferred' and 'variant' access points is a little worrying, especially when so much work is currently going into the NACO project.
The simplification of terms, for example ‘s.l.’ being replaced by statements such as ‘place not recorded’ or ‘place not known’, might be easier for new cataloguers but it concerns me that it may lead to a gradual decline of skill and a steady decline in the quality of bibliographic records.
It is a concern that, the further we simplify the skill of cataloguing, the further we thus move to a library management who believes that cataloguing could be automated. After all, save the salaries of cataloguers and speed up a mechanical process. Except that it isn't mechanical. It involves skill, a clear vision of local practice and user needs, and an ability to apply rules with skill and panache. However, I'm not saying that RDA will lead ultimately to this future, but we do have to be careful as cataloguers to raise our advocacy within the wider library community.
Practically, there seems like there will be little change. I suppose only time will tell.
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
Hammer Horror: a genre to die for.
I have been intrigued by the Hammer Film Productions output for a long time and so, now that I am a proud member of a postal video rental club, I decided to find out more. The name actually derived from the stage name of the studio's original founder. I duly put the first title that came to mind onto the rental list and sat back to wait for the magic.
I wasn't disappointed. The Brides of Dracula arrived several days later, just in time for a Friday night in front of the laptop. It is probably the best film I have seen all year, if not of all time, and no hyperbole intended.
The film, short by today's standards at approximately 85 minutes, begins by introducing us to Marianne, a young woman who is travelling to a finishing school to take up an appointment as a tutor. After her coach stops at an inn, the driver suddenly takes fright and leaves the poor young girl inside the inn by herself. The story then proceeds quickly, as Marianne winds up at the castle and stupidly frees a blood sucking Baron. Fair play to her though as he did look rather dashing at the time; it's all in the eyes, you know.
So he escapes, she escapes, she falls in the woods, he starts creating a harem of Brides in the old windmill. Then, drum roll please, enters the star of the proceedings, the wonderful Mr Peter Cushing. What brilliance, what intelligence, what skill. Nothing will get in the way of this Van Helsing protecting the beautiful innocent Marianne. Put your guns away and show some respect for the holy water, crosses and just plain fisticuff methods of the 1960s-pretending-to-be-late-19th-century vampiric war.
Let's face it, if Dracula couldn't kill him, then what chance does this young disciple in an obviously plasic cape have? He could at least have got hold of a velvet one, he is supposed to be a Baron after all. But then that is the beauty of this film: the sets that look like they're one breath away from keeling over, the plot lines that don't fully run together, the fact that there is a church quite conveniently in the back room of the village inn. And yet, they still manage to chill, to excite and most of all to make you laugh and shriek in the same breath. I shall definitely be renting more. I can't believe it's taken me this long to find out about them.
One last thing: Marianne, if Dr Van Helsing gives you a rosary, it's not a necklace love, don't take it off before bedtime! Silly girl.
I wasn't disappointed. The Brides of Dracula arrived several days later, just in time for a Friday night in front of the laptop. It is probably the best film I have seen all year, if not of all time, and no hyperbole intended.
The film, short by today's standards at approximately 85 minutes, begins by introducing us to Marianne, a young woman who is travelling to a finishing school to take up an appointment as a tutor. After her coach stops at an inn, the driver suddenly takes fright and leaves the poor young girl inside the inn by herself. The story then proceeds quickly, as Marianne winds up at the castle and stupidly frees a blood sucking Baron. Fair play to her though as he did look rather dashing at the time; it's all in the eyes, you know.
So he escapes, she escapes, she falls in the woods, he starts creating a harem of Brides in the old windmill. Then, drum roll please, enters the star of the proceedings, the wonderful Mr Peter Cushing. What brilliance, what intelligence, what skill. Nothing will get in the way of this Van Helsing protecting the beautiful innocent Marianne. Put your guns away and show some respect for the holy water, crosses and just plain fisticuff methods of the 1960s-pretending-to-be-late-19th-century vampiric war.
Let's face it, if Dracula couldn't kill him, then what chance does this young disciple in an obviously plasic cape have? He could at least have got hold of a velvet one, he is supposed to be a Baron after all. But then that is the beauty of this film: the sets that look like they're one breath away from keeling over, the plot lines that don't fully run together, the fact that there is a church quite conveniently in the back room of the village inn. And yet, they still manage to chill, to excite and most of all to make you laugh and shriek in the same breath. I shall definitely be renting more. I can't believe it's taken me this long to find out about them.
One last thing: Marianne, if Dr Van Helsing gives you a rosary, it's not a necklace love, don't take it off before bedtime! Silly girl.
Thursday, 29 May 2008
Striking coincidence?
As I was
reshelving some recently returned books this morning, a face peering out at me from the cover of a certain literary critic's work reminded me very strongly of a certain bag-guy-turned-good character from a cult hit 90s TV show primarily concerned with vampire hunting.
So, I'll let you decide: Derrida and Marsters, same difference?
reshelving some recently returned books this morning, a face peering out at me from the cover of a certain literary critic's work reminded me very strongly of a certain bag-guy-turned-good character from a cult hit 90s TV show primarily concerned with vampire hunting.So, I'll let you decide: Derrida and Marsters, same difference?
Wednesday, 14 May 2008
Why reading is important
Reading is important. It’s also really good fun. It is the only way that I would know how to experience life through the eyes of for example an Israeli woman, an Irish farmer or an American banker. The words on the page light up the brain, fire up the imagination, to take you on the greatest adventures. You learn something new, about the world, about yourself, maybe even about other people. It sounds clichéd, but it’s not. I promise. Give it a go. Nothing to loose. Go along for the ride, hitch onto the text, create your own interpretations. Picture Mma Ramotswe sitting in her agency drinking bush tea. Feel the heat of the sun as she contemplated the old Botswana sense of morality which is slowly, for her, ebbing away. Travel with Thursday Next through time and reality as she tracks down those literature thieves and evil-doers galore. Most importantly, have fun. Enjoy what you read.
2008 is the National Year of Reading. Read something fun today.
2008 is the National Year of Reading. Read something fun today.
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