Human beans love thinking in binary oppositions. That is often way too crude for serious understanding and problem-solving. I offer a complex visual metaphor that might help you and others push against the binary reflex.
Sometimes the answer to “is X true or false?” can only be a shrug. The answer might be unknowable, or perhaps unknowable without an impractical amount of work. Jaina seven-valued logic offers an interesting perspective on (or alternative to) the problem.
A Zettelkasten is a particular sort of hypertext document as well as a technique for creating it. My aim in this post is to give you an understanding of a Zettelkasten document – its parts and its whole – and, more importantly, show something of what it’s like to work with a Zettelkasten. A Zettelkasten will appeal to some people much more than to others, and I’d like you to be able to predict where you’d fall on that spectrum. Presenting vignettes of my own work (lightly fictionalized) is the means I’ve chosen.
Comparisons of the Zettelkasten to what I earlier called a “wiki traditional” hypertext document will come in a later post.
Back in 2002, I published an article about how people learn “tacit knowledge,” using as an example how students of veterinary medicine learn a diagnostic category.
I’ve gotten a lot of mileage from that example over the years (in speeches and such), and I’d like to update the article, because there were some aspects I missed back then.
What does it mean to be a good Christian? How do you decide whether something someone made is art or not art? If you say you’re practicing Agile software development, and I say you’re not – that you’re missing the point – where do we go from there?
The answer to the last question, in my experience, is: nowhere, and fast. But we don’t have that problem with questions like “is that tree an elm?” or “is light a particle or a wave?” Why not?
A little lesson from Wikipedia.
(Note: fear not. The second installment in the hypertext series is coming along. It’s long.)
Hypertext documents vary a good deal, so statements beginning “Hypertext is…” are likely to obscure more than they reveal. In three posts, I’ll discuss the dominant style (“wiki traditional”), one that flips the emphasis (“Zettelkasten”), and how well two metaphors (“garden” and “rhizome”) work for each. My premise is that if you understand what you’re doing when you write a particular kind of hypertext, you’ll do it better.
I propose resurrecting the old-time Republic of Letters to encourage more thoughtful writing. “The Republic of Letters was the long-distance intellectual community in the late 17th and 18th centuries in Europe and the Americas. It fostered communication among the intellectuals of the Age of Enlightenment.” – wikipedia Many names you’ll recognize were participants in the Republic of Letters. For example, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, perhaps the last true polymath, wrote tens of thousands of letters.
Author’s note: This is an essay that does a “close reading” of a particular essay that critiques deconstruction (or, really, the modern humanities). A valid objection is that I have devoted a lot of effort to an essay that probably wasn’t intended to be a finely-honed, final statement of someone’s opinion. However, I think it’s still worthwhile, because it illustrates something literary-style criticism is for: you’re reading along in something when an oddity brings you up short.
In 1993, the software engineer Chip Morningstar published an essay called “How To Deconstruct Almost Anything.” In it, he surveys what he learned reading Jonathan Culler’s 1982 book On Deconstruction: Theory and Criticism after Structuralism, which was a standard text at the time for people who want to do literary criticism. Nowadays, he’d have had an easier time. I would recommend Peter Berry’s 1995 Beginning Theory: An Introduction to Literary and Cultural Theory or Lois Tyson’s 1998 Critical Theory Today: A User-Friendly Guide.