“People think if we do nothing, we will have what we have now,” said
Karen Davis, the president of the Commonwealth Fund, a nonprofit health
care research group in New York. “In fact, what we will have is a
substantial deterioration in what we have.”
If nothing else, it shows that even small gestures can ripple out broadly, and resonate in strange corners.
(For the record, I am the originator of this phrase; it came to me when I was creating this blog. I'm still not entirely clear as to its meaning; perhaps, someday, I will know. For now, I relish the ambiguity, and the hints of mythic significance.)
(Based on a comment originally posted on Lance's blog, in response to this post.)
current city, there are five bookstores. There is the small used bookshop with
the former historian who will talk your ear off about local gossip. There is the
tiny Walden Books in the out-of-the-way mall. Two college
bookstores offer an unpredictable selection of texts and local authors and pop culture. Downtown there is a bookstore/coffeeshop that mostly specializes in
magazines which is the place everyone buys the New York Times on Sunday, and where posters for events around town inevitably get posted. All of them are quite small; each is a single room, except
for the used bookstore, which is two tiny rooms.
Like increasing numbers of people in this day and age, I have an account on Facebook. I also have accounts at LibraryThing, Zenfolio, Redbubble, Etsy, Artfire, Twitter, MySpace, Ravelry and probably a few I've forgotten. I also have at least 6 email accounts, a web page, and three online stores. Then there's the two blogs I have here on Typepad. If I had a video camera, I'd probably be adding to YouTube or Vimeo.
In short, I'm a wired woman, very much enmeshed in what the cognescenti like to call "Web 2.0."
As a result of this, and of my years blogging, I've become very much interested in the ways that various online service providers communicate with their clients and the sorts of problems that ensue when they fail to navigate this new environment successfully. (Etsy offers an often astonishing example of what happen when communication breaks down. See Unofficial Etsy News and EtsyBitch for discussions of this and links.)
I've also become increasingly protective of my content; the days when I believed wholeheartedly in the idea that all knowledge should be free has been replaced by the conviction that while knowledge should be spread widely and generously, the people who make the effort to produce it deserve recompense for their efforts. That is, the trade-off of my generosity in this regard is me making enough to eat and pay rent and insurance. I'm willing to share low-res images with the world at large, here and on my other blog and on flickr, but it's an act of temporary generosity on my part, not an abandonment of my interest in the content. If I decide to pull those images, both TypePad and Flickr (and its parent company, Yahoo), agree, as per their Terms of Service, that any license I may have granted them in order to use their sites ends. The licenses they require are also reasonable, related primarily to me giving them permission to show that content to people who visit my sites.
It used to be that this was the case for Facebook as well. Their TOS was a bit more demanding - they wanted a much more extensive license to use our stuff - but, like most such network providers out there, they included a clause that basically said, if you take your stuff off the site, or cancel your account, our right to use it ends.
Argh, Chris got me! I'll do my best with this one, though it may be tricky since I'm not certain of the names of the many parks I visited as a kid. When you're rattling around in the back seat with your brother, you tend not to pay attention to things like park entrance signs!
Ones I've been to in bold. Ones I've not been to in italics. The remainder are ones I'm unsure of.