I’ve updated my WordPress blog software to version 4.9 and in doing so thought I would try their latest default theme. So the website looks a little different but all the content is the same as it was last week. While doing the update I messed up something with the server permissions and everyone was locked out. This is something of a test post to check we’re back to normal. Over on another eponymous blog, Austin Kleon writes about his experiment in daily blogging. This observation feels true to me:
I had forgotten how wonderful blogging is as a mode of thinking. Blogging is, for me, more about discovering what I have to say, and tweeting more about having a thought, then saying it the right way.
In a recent post, I listed the titles of all 53 of my unpublished blog drafts. This obviously prompted me to go back and look at some of them. Among those still languishing in ‘blog purgatory’ was a post ‘On Punching White Supremacists’ and was written in January, when the dos and don’ts of Nazi Punching became a hot topic of conversation after a particular proto-Nazi was punched live on TV. The post appeared to be a complete thing, and I am unsure why I did not publish it at the time. Perhaps I forgot. Perhaps I felt I should not be ‘on record’ as being either for or against Nazi Punching—Both positions are morally perilous, as the post itself explains. Or perhaps I felt that the world simply did not need another ‘hot take’ on Nazi Punching. Anyway, it seemed silly to keep the thing in limbo. The arguments for and against are a useful aide memoir, even if my conclusions are ambiguous. So I published it. You can read the post here.Continue reading “Nazi Punching”
Oh Lordy Lordy, I have 53 separate blog posts sitting unpublished in the drafts section of this website. None are in a state to be published, but I thought I would post the titles for your examination. Ten years ago, Michelle Kazprzak did the same thing, which is where I got the idea. She wrote:
It’s pure blog purgatory, where I toy with some of these posts once every few months, but they never reach a postable state. In fact, most of these drafts are just titles, with no body to them at all, or body text consisting of one line to remind me what the post should be about. This paucity of text combined with the passage of time (every day a small sip of the water of Lethe), makes the probability that these posts will ever be completed quite low. The titles of these unfinished posts confront me each time I open my blog software as a series of blazing headlines demanding attention. The last time I looked at them all, it occurred to me they might be worth sharing in and of themselves
If a perception of this kind of competitive debating as old-fashioned and the preserve of public schools and university societies goes unchallenged, then we lose a great deal. Robert Sharpe [sic] of the worldwide writers’ association English PEN sees charges of elitism as a shame, because “the skills one learns through a good debate are crucial for modern life. Political events continue to remind us of the importance of persuasive arguments and good oratory that appeal not only to our rational side, but our emotional side too.” He also thinks the ability to see the other side is particularly important. “The essence of free speech is that we allow people with whom we disagree to speak. Wrongheaded views will be aired. But free speech means no one gets the last word. We can – and indeed, we should – use our own right to free speech to challenge expression we think is unpleasant or wrong. To do this we need to be equipped to argue in public. Debating competitions are a fantastic way to teach this important skill to young people.” Later this year, English PEN will join the Chamber Debate in the House of Lords, in which students from state schools across the country will discuss the issue of free speech.
Strike one item off the bucket list: I’ve written a WordPress plugin. Paragraph Level IDs is available now from the WordPress plugin directory, and I’ve created a static page on this site to explain the detail. But in essence, the plugin adds lots of little anchors into the HTML of your blog posts, before each paragraph. This means that the author and users can link to specific paragraphs in a piece of online text. This functionality is extremely useful when dealing with long screeds of text. Someone may quote a bon mot, but if you follow the link to where the writer says the quote came from, you often have to trawl through many paragraphs to find the quote and check the context. If a site has anchors, or id attributes embedded in the HTML, the person creating the link can send the reader to the exact paragraph in the text. This is a very old technique, one that has been present in HTML since its earliest incarnations. But few people use it routinely on their webpages. This plugin offers an easy way to alleviate that inefficiency! Continue reading “Why I wrote my WordPress plugin”
Yesterday was the 10th birthday of WordPress, the blogging platform from which these words that you are reading are delivered to your glowing rectangle.1 Here is an interesting infographic, showing how dominant the software has become. WordPress founder Matt Mullenweg has typed a love letter to his anthropomorphised project. I’ve been using WordPress since September 2005, or eighty percent of the platform’s lifetime. I have used every version of the software since the antiquated version 1.5. When I began blogging, WordPress had been downloaded 538,514 times. According to the infographic, that number has risen to more than 66 million. This puts me comfortably into the earliest 1% of users. I was using WordPress before it was cool. When I began, the default Kubrick design had only just been introduced, and there was even an option to activate an older ‘classic’ template. There were no options for uploading images (you had to do that via FTP or ‘hotlink’ from an existing image online) or integration with social media, and there was no way to change the look and feel of the site unless you knew some CSS and PHP. However, the two core pieces of functionality that make WordPress so useful were already in place back in 2005 – themes and plugins. By uploading small pieces of stand-alone code, you could change the look (themes) or functionality (plugins) of the site without messing with the core code. That was not a unique feature of WordPress, but I am sure that the simplicity of the way it was implemented contributed to its success. That, and the fact that WordPress is OpenSource, meaning anyone can edit the code and create themes and plug-ins. I was very impressed when, in 2010, Mullenweg transferred ownership of the WordPress trademark to a non-for-profit company, meaning the platform cannot be sold to an Internet giant, as Tumblr was last week. Other sites in which I have a hand that use the WordPress platform include The LIP Magazine archive, The Word of an Insignificant Woman, Liberal Conspiracy, and English PEN.
1. Unless, of course, you’re reading this at some point in the near or far future when I have, in an ironic twist, abandoned WordPress for some other software and imported all my old posts.
The Free Word Centre has a couple of big bookcases at one end of its central space. Last week, I was surprised to discover on the shelves a copy of the The Blog Digest 2007, which was edited by Justin Mckeating and features a couple of contributions by me. It naturally drags to the surface those old thoughts about the nature of blogging and why someone does it. Back in 2006, when we put together that book, ‘meta-blogging’ (i.e. philosophising about the nature of this new activity) was all the rage. Nowadays? Not-so-much. Back then, it felt as of blogging was its own thing, a distinct community with its own round-up. Now, it is simply another way to take part in a global conversation. Long-form Twitter. Before, bloggers and journalists were considered different creatures. Now, blogging is how journalists do their thing, and it’s never clear whether any given piece you might read online has also made its way into the printed edition of the paper or magazine. I know why I started blogging: catharsis. I was spending far too much of 2005 writing angry letters to newspapers, and submitting contributions to the BBC Have Your Say website. The comments I made were on pretty much the same topics as the things I discuss on this blog even now: free expression, human rights, belief, foreign policy, the nature of democracy, gay rights, and the evolving internet technology. It was a natural wish to be able publish without waiting for some editorial intern to deem my contribution as relevant! I think my motivation for maintaining the blog has subtly changed since I began, seven years ago this month. There is much less anger and frustration, less need to blurt out a rebuttal of some hideous, shoddy political argument. There are two reasons for this change. The first is that politics has moved on: the insidious, divisive ideology pushed by President George W. Bush (and shockingly enabled by Tony Blair) has thankfully waned. The second is that now I actually work in human rights campaigning, well within the London political ‘mix’ and with a tangible route to make a difference on the issues I care about. The personal blog is no longer the only way I participate in the political process. As a result, it becomes less urgent. I am grateful that anyone stops by to read these pages, as I know many of my friends and a few strangers sometimes do. But I know I have no right to expect anyone to continue reading. With that in mind, I perceive a tendency to write as if I am taking notes, diarising (weblogging in other words) as a personal project. I write as much for the future me as for the present you, the present them. I often see the writing as a sort of insurance for the future, a partial brain-backup or a resource that an aged, dementia-addled version of myself can use to pass the time when I no longer go outside. That, and a record for the progeny. For the past few years, as I’ve mellowed, I have often thought of myself as writing for hypothetical children! I am grateful to those among my own ancestors who wrote something for me, and it is not unreasonable to expect my descendants to read through the blog! I hope they get a feel for this point in human history, and a sense of my ideals. And if I seek to persuade anyone with my writing, it is them. In a certain sense, therefore, this blog can be seen as shaped by two events, which took place exactly a decade apart. The first is the infamous terror attack of September 11th 2001, which was the spark that ignited two wars and provoked the policies that so angered me. The second event was the birth of my daughter on 11th September 2011 – one year ago today. She cannot read yet, but now, at last, I know who I am writing for.
First posted over at the English PEN site. In her monthly column for MediaShift, Jillian York (Director of International Free Expression at the EFF, and a Global Voices board member) turned her attention to online campaigns for imprisoned bloggers. In particular, how can a campaign be effective in a country like Syria, which has recently become impervious to international pressure? As part of the piece, Jillian asked several free speech campaigners for their views on the question, and I responded on behalf of English PEN:
When a blogger is imprisoned, it is not just his voice that is silenced. Those who share his point of view are discouraged by his example, and choose to keep quiet. A public solidarity campaign on social media can have the opposite effect, emboldening others to speak out and fill the void left by their imprisoned comrade … so while the text of a message may be “Free Hussein Ghrer,” the subtext is “We Have Not Forgotten Hussein Ghrer,” which is a powerful message to send to the authorities. Sending letters or (as English PEN does) books to these prisoners carries a similar message.
You can read more of my comments, alongside those of several bloggers who are on the frontline of activism, at the MediaShift website. You can leave comments there too.
Back in 2006 or so, when blogging was The Next Big Thing That Everyone Was Doing, there was much discussion over whether a blog could kickstart a literary or journalistic career. Writers News even commissioned me to write an article about it, in which I quoted the economist and blogger Tim Worstall:
Tim Worstall, editor of the anthology 2005: Blogged, agrees. “I’m not sure that it is possible to make a living from blogging,” wrote Worstall, in his Second Anniversary blog post. “But”, he continued, “it is entirely possible to make a living out of having blogged.” Worstall sees blogging as an alternative to apprenticeships and unpaid internships, a route to paid writing.
I think we can cite many examples of writerswho gained exposure through blogging and then found paid writing gigs: David Allen Green and Laurie Penny at the New Statesman; book deals for PC David Copperfield and The Girl With A One Track Mind. Another route is that taken by the creators of the Pornokitsch Blog, which takes the transatlantic Science Fiction & Fantasy culture as its beat. They have used their blog as a springboard into the publishing world, leveraging using the contacts and credibility developed over four years of blogging, to produce a series of short story collections. The blog as route not into journalism, but publishing. And who should be one of the authors they publish? None other than… yrstrly. My story (0,0) is in the Crossroads anthology, released on the Kindle in August 2012. Its a companion book to Lost Souls, “tales of woe and angst, loneliness, redemption and humour” including stories by Arthur Conan-Doyle, Benjamin Disraeli and Mary Coleridge. If you order the limited edition copy of Lost Souls, you get Crossroads on the Kindle for free. You cannot say fairer than that.