Monthly Archive for November, 2004

Within 12 hours after passing along the design mentioned in the previous entry, it looks like some of our ideas were implemented in Evolution, at least the removal of the word “appointment” and the one-click snoozing.

The rest of the recommendations didn’t make it in, but try submitting something like that to Microsoft, and see what happens. Free software is sweet.

I’ve been noticing a strange line of thinking becoming more and more prevalent in politics. I’ve seen it in President Bush and Rush Limbaugh, but I’m sure others are using it too. It’s the “they are trying really hard to beat us, so we must be right” line of thought.

Bush has used that one about foreign terrorists in Iraq. The fact that terrorists streamed into Iraq with such fervor to fight the U.S. occupation means that they know the occupation of Iraq will be a very bad thing for their organizations, he suggested.

Of course, that wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that they think America is the root of all evil in the world, and an opportunity suddenly arose to put their money where their mouth is when America decided to send thousands of it’s citizens to the middle east? If Osama bin Laden went on a book tour in Sweden, would we try to capture him because we know his book tour would likely be the downfall of the United States, or would be try to capture him because it was our golden opportunity to do something that had been bothering us for a while?

And in October, Rush Limbaugh suggested that his (arguably racist) comments about Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb “must have been right about something… If I wasn’t right, there wouldn’t be this cacophony of outrage that has sprung up in the sports writer community.”

It’s amazing that you can use the amount of outrage your comments stir as a measure of how correct they are. If I walk up to someone with a short temper and tell him his mother is a whore and he procedes to open up a can of whoop-ass on me, does that really mean I was right?

My paper on HCI theory is finally complete. It is not a masterpiece, but there are some good ideas inside. I feel strongly that Kuutti has missed the mark in her characterization of the invention of direct manipulation, and I think I make a good case for putting the C back in HCI. That said, it’s kind of rough around the edges. I really psyched myself out about this paper, and as a result it was very slow going. I think a big part of the problem is my difficulty following directions. Anyway, the introduction:

Theories have poured into HCI from many disparate fields, including cognitive psychology, artificial intelligence, ergonomics, sociology, anthropology, graphic design, and computer science. When it comes to theories devised within the field of HCI itself, researchers have created everything but consensus. Many “theories” simply take the form of goals: usability, calmness, fun, etc. Others take the form of methods: ethnography, cooperative design, etc. Still others offer predictive models of interaction: GOMS, Fitt’s Law, etc. This cacophony of independent approaches can be fatiguing for HCI practitioners and researchers. A history of failed attempts at applying these theories and a perceived lack of consensus or cooperation has created an atmosphere of distrust and independence in the HCI community.

This essay is titled with the first two lines of Thomas Erickson’s poem, “Theory Theory: A Designer’s View.” The poem exposes our conflicting images of theory: is it a robust mixture or an incomprehensible mess? Is it a happy club or an elitist clique? Erickson asks what, if any, is the role of theory in design and then begs the question by suggesting that theory is to be used when it is useful. This essay will attempt to explain the difficulties Erickson highlights, and offer a more thorough analysis of the relationship between HCI theory and practice.

Read more…

Why do I forget so much?

I haven’t been running for at least a month. And then not for several months before that. Twenty steps out the door, I am thinking running is not just therapudic for me, it is *cathartic*.

I run out to the road, taking a side track around the one-story office space behind our apartment complex. I pee on the edge of the woods behind a dumpster, and look at the stream a few feet into the trees. I take a few steps toward the stream, and there is some frantic activity in the water. I don’t like that I scared some animal, and so I turn around and run out to the street.

A few hundred feet along, I stop at a clearing. I walk down into the field, and crouch down, thinking the grass is wet. It’s not, so I sit. I stare at the high tension power lines running along this track of field. There’s a stream in front of me that’s only there because of the road. I mean, it’s only there in that exact spot because of the road. Before it was following the curves of the earth, heading for the ocean in some sort of purposeful way, but now it’s just cradled in the ditch left by the road. I realize how comforted I am by the combination of nature and rural infrastructure. It reminds me of home.

I used to do this at home, on the field off of woodland road. One time I was so upset about some family stuff that I threw on my running shoes and headed down Gurleyville Road and cried and cried and cried, running out towards Woodland. I got to that field, and walked out into the night sky, and sat down. I think I only remember this because a car stopped and the driver asked if I was OK. I told him I was.

So I realized sitting on this field (tonight, not however many years ago) that I’ve been clamoring for comfort the last couple of weeks. I’ve been eating… overeating, to try to comfort myself. I eat until I am overfull, I eat until I am no longer accountable for my behavior. I remove my responsibility for myself by eating until I can’t eat anymore. I’ve been sleeping in. I’ve been procrastinating. I’ve been listening to music… seeking out music that I couldn’t get this year because I couldn’t be in the choirs. I’ve been dying for experiences like Horsebarn Hill with Meaghan and Ben and Niamh four years ago. I’ve been dying for that, and I haven’t been getting it. There’s no-one here who I feel like I can call at 11pm on a Thursday and say “hey, can I just come over and hang out?” That’s why I’ve been missing Meaghan. She was always that person for me, who didn’t care about itineraries.

So I’m doing all of these things–self-destructive things because it’s go time. I have this paper I’m working on for Yvonne, about the role of theory in HCI, and it’s killing me. It’s a week late now, and it’s crap. I want very much to do this thing, but all my self doubt is just piling up like dirty laundry in front of the door to my room. I go running to comfort myself, when I should be working. Even this… even this introspective writing is a mechanism for me to hide from my fears.

So, I’m going to shave, and I’m going to take a shower. Cleaning myself up is another thing I can do, and then maybe I’m going to sit down and knock some essay out. Maybe. It’s a struggle.