It feels like in this household we make regular reference to this cartoon by VectorBelly.
And this time we went on.
First, Trevor Noah on American sportsing. I am certain this is not an exaggeration. This is the whole premise of Moneyball (2011)! By the way, his accounts of South African sports culture are also equally hilarious.
Next, Michael McIntyre on rugby versus football.
We then ended with the famous “This is not soccer” moment. 😀
Last night I was video chatting with my mum and one of my sisters. My 24-month-old niece was with them and busy navigating YouTube on my mum’s phone while we were chatting through Skype on my sister’s phone. I was desperately trying to win my niece’s attention, waving and saying “Hi, your big auntie here” non-stop in a pantomime manner.
She proved to be too cool to respond to this imposition though. She cast a brief look and simply minimised the Skype app away. With one aloof tap. My mum and sister ROFL’ed. Me? I was jaw-droppingly impressed and feeling a little rejected at the same time. 😦
We hear a lot about the digital mastery of children and young people. I follow the latest developments in the field with interest. Among what I enjoyed reading most recently are Sonia Livingston’s comments on the YouTube Kids scandal and David M. Perry’s “How to teach a cyborg“.
In the meantime, Livingstone recommends keeping an eye on children’s YouTube binges. “It depends on the age and resilience or vulnerability of the child, of course, but the best advice is occasionally to share an interest with your child on YouTube,” she says. “Don’t always look over their shoulder, or check up on them secretly,” but watch with them to see how they go about using the app and how they react to what they view. And make sure to turn on restricted mode for some basic protections.
Because while it’s Google’s responsibility to do better, at this rate, your toddler may well be a teenager by the time Silicon Valley admits it’s time to hire human moderators to make up for algorithmic failures.
Having an understanding based on second-hand accounts, however, means that certain things will always be difficult to imagine. For example, it didn’t come to my mind until the second sister told me that in order to fulfil the Santa role successfully this time, she had to make sure there were no shopping traces on the phone and the tablet in the lead up to Christmas. !!!!!
I wrapped up 2017 with baking. Creating something in the kitchen is not my strong suit, but with an unparalleled sweet tooth, I did a little bit of baking when I finally moved out of the campus halls of residence and had my own kitchen in 2009. It has been a while since that phase.
At that time I discovered many grownup-sounding desserts (e.g. green tea muffins, prune brownies, and a Guinness cake with Bailey’s cream), but in the end, the ultimate fail-proof recipe was for a tarte aux pommes. And that’s what I picked this time around.
While waiting for it to be ready, I suddenly started to think about a talk I attended on 14 December: Algorithmic Authenticity by Wendy Hui Kyong Chun. It was a fascinating talk from beginning to end, but the particular bit that came back to me was her comment on how we as a society are obsessed with the currency of being authentic and believe/claim that we know when we see something that is not. What is interesting is that given this combination there now is a formula for appearing authentic. To paraphrase her words, the formula is to present a slightly less than best possible version. 😀
I thought it was spot-on. Her discussion was focused on the 2016 US presidential election, but the phenomenon is certainly not limited to it. Think about all those “no-makeup makeup” tutorials on YouTube, for example!
Against this backdrop, here is my authentic pie just before going into the oven.
2 apples + 1 egg yolk + 100g cream + 100g sugar.
190 degrees, 30 minutes.
I am someone who just has to have a knick-knack box. I have always had one since, well, as far as I remember. Much of that compulsion has now gone digital. I see my Tumblr page in particular as my virtual knick-knack box and treasure it more than any other spaces I have carved out in this vast digital world.
My only complaint, however, is about its search function. It sucks. So this post is to move one of my collections from there to here for easier navigation. I have collected quite a few ‘pedagogical gems‘ over the past couple of years. <puffed with pride>
Learning Theory (crossposted 7 Feb 2016)
Cognitive bias cheat sheet (crossposted 4 December 2016)
An Illustrated Book of Bad Argument (crossposted 27 December 2013)
Tea Consent (Blue Seat Studios, as part of a campaign by Thames Valley Police, 12 May 2015)
A timeline of earth’s average temperature (xkcd, 2016)
Timeline Tools (Florian Kräutli, 8 April 2016)
How to choose a research method (Eva Nedbalova, NCRM, 2017)
Which stats test (crossposted 15 June 2017)
Discovering Statistics (crossposted 7 February 2014)
Seeing Theory (crossposted 1 March 2017)
Data Viz Project (Ferdio, 2017)
One Dataset, Visualized 25 Ways (crossposted 6 February 2017)
The Philosopher’s Web (via Open Culture, 20 October 2017; see also 14 July 2016 and 25 July 2013)
And to the makers of these — I heart you.
Kind of a (growing) YouTube playlist with my methodology students in mind. To borrow Ed Yong’s words, I scour the internet so that you don’t have to. 😉
Common errors made when conducting a literature review (Michael Quinn Patton, 2015)
Methods 101: Random sampling (Pew Research Center, 12 May 2017)
Increasing validity in qualitative research (Denise Clark Pope, 2017)
Why you can never argue with conspiracy theorists (Wired, 17 June 2017)
Relativity & the equivalence of reference frames (Hillary Diane Andales, 1 October 2017)
Let me start off my twelfth year of blogging on an indisputably positive note. In this age of misinformation and disinformation, I still feel that I am learning a lot on the internet. I now boil eggs perfectly every time thanks to a tip that I picked up on Twitter, for example. I also love hearing about little things that make people happy. Sound of Music style. There are numerous subreddits on that exact topic. There is also a Tumblr account called Things We Like, which used to have regular posts including one of my own a couple of years ago. One happiness hack that I will always remember was from a random stranger on Twitter: brighten your phone screen up a couple of notches in case you need an immediate mood booster. Yes, I have tried, and yes, it works.
Today I have discovered one such hack myself so I am sharing here – as a way of paying forward. WD-40 all door handles around your house. You will feel like your whole life is running swimmingly.
How the South Korean language was designed to unify (Ann Babe, BBC Travel, 18 December 2017)
Nothing in this article is new to me, but I still found it entertaining and thought-provoking to read. Perhaps the author’s self-reflection on her ‘in-between’ positionality resonated with me. Moreover, the article, especially the following passage, supports what I have long hypothesised.
There is no clear boundary between the word ‘I’ and the word ‘we’,” Choi writes in her book A Postcolonial Self. “As the usage of the words ‘we’ and ‘I’ are often interchangeable, so too is the identity of the ‘we’ often interchangeable with the identity of the ‘I.’ The meanings of ‘we’ and ‘I’ are negotiable not only in colloquial Korean usage but also in the consciousness and unconsciousness of Korean minds.”
In Korean there is this idiomatic expression of having a wide ojirap. Its literal reference is to the front flap of an upper garment, but what the expression actually means is that the person in question tends to get involved in other people’s affairs, for better or worse.
I am sure that every language on this planet has some sort of equivalent to a ‘busybody’ or a ‘nosy parker’. However, my hypothesis is that the Korean variant has its extra something, which is that the ‘ojirapper‘ genuinely thinks it is their own business when they are meddling in someone else’s, even if that someone else is a total stranger who happens to be in the same carriage of the train. To put it another way, in that momentary context, the boundaries slide, at least in the ojirapper‘s mind.
By the way, ojirap is an established word in the language; ojirapper, on the other hand, is a modern slang born and used principally online, and as you may have guessed already, its connotation is never positive.
There was this strongman character who appeared across many entertainment shows in the early 90s in Korea. Last Saturday morning, for some trivial reasons, I ended up searching for a video clip of his performance, preferably where he would bite off the side of a beer can with his bare teeth. That was one of his signature gigs. I never knew his name, but I remembered that he had a very prominent mole in the centre of his forehead.
However, my extensive search, both in Korean and English, yielded nothing useful. It was a big blow on my confidence in my information skills! So I needed something more powerful than Google or Naver. I turned to the family chatroom. Literally within a minute, all siblings (except one who wasn’t online at that moment) fired back his name, his recent activities (including his volunteer work in the Sewol rescue operation), and suggestions on how I should have gone about my search.
You thought I had an elephant’s memory? That’s because you haven’t met my family. And this chatroom is like an external brain from which I am only one tap away. ❤
A couple of days ago, I had an interview with a US journalist about recent developments on sexual harassment in South Korea. Our version of #metoo, if you like, which took place exactly a year prior to the Harvey Weinstein case. Those developments, often digitally mediated, appear to be empowering, as in “giving a voice to the previously voiceless“, but during the interview I found myself saying, even quite categorically, that speaking up and being heard are two different things and that seeing those courageous “silence breakers” in the US gaining public support and recognition is certainly encouraging but also a little ‘frustrating’ for victims of sexual assaults in South Korea, who had been saying the same thing all this time, if not for longer. I didn’t get to elaborate on this point as we diverged to other related phenomena such as the rise of a men’s rights movement, but by frustration I meant what Langton (2009) calls “perlocutionary frustration“, which may be experienced when one’s utterances are heard but not accepted.
I have been thinking a lot about global parallels in women’s life experience since I started looking into misogyny, online but also more broadly, in 2015, and the interview gave me extra cause for thought. Then, as if someone at SNL were telepathically in sync with me, they put on this delicious satire that summarises all. (My only complaint would be that the video is stingy with Leslie Jones’s dance moves.)
So that I can read again and again – the entire thread as well as all replies. ❤
In the meantime, at another corner of the world. 😀
As far as I am concerned, I think of this tweet around this time every single winter. Not the song but the tweet.