A common trend in writing is to come up with “clever” names for articles. This annoying attempt to create reader curiousity is only appropriate for print design. The web is another story.
Not only is writing on the web for humans, but it is also for machines, or in many cases, humans using machines that help them find what they want. If a typical contemporary print magazine contained an article about naming articles, there is a good chance that it may be called “What’s in a Name?” While this is annoying to a reader who is trying to decipher what the article is about, this title will not be significantly detrimental to a reader’s ability to find it (though I have many times flipped through my magazines, trying to find that great article I read, only to find out after scanning over the right issue many times that it had been named irrelevantly). However, if that same article is put on the web, not only do you essentially exclude your useful article from search queries about “naming articles appropriately,” but you also run the risk of mucking up the search results for someone who is looking for the origin of the popular Shakespeare quote.
So, next time you write a blog, imagine, if you were someone searching for the information in that article, what words would be in your query. Then, try to include those words in the title of your blog. It’s true that the contents of the blog may be relevant to what someone is searching for, but that information only has a <p> tag around it. The title of a blog on my page has an <h3> tag on it, which holds much more weight as important information to a search engine than a <p> tag. Then, in the archive of my blog, each page <title> includes the title of the blog in it, which I have found to have more semantic weight than anything for determining search rankings.
Keep in mind that you should title your blog postings relevantly. Just because “brittney spears” is a popular search query, including it in the title of your blog post won’t help your search rankings any unless there is truly valuable information in your blog about brittney spears. Search engines such as Google will get you sorted out one way or another if your information isn’t truly pertinent to said search query. I know that seems to run contrary to my previous point about the Shakespeare quote, but nevermind that, just be a good web citizen and name your blogs appropriately.
Since starting blogging, I have increasingly found myself referring people to my blog, rather than explaining things that already reside there. Though my blog isn’t particularly personal, it reminds me of those rather impolite mass-emails you may get from a friend on occasion saying “This is what is going on in my life: yadda yadda.” I say rather impolite because my natural reaction has always been “Who are you to think I care?” and “Am I not important enough for you to write an e-mail just for me?”
That’s what’s great about blogs:
You can tell a story, or get information out there and only have to tell it once
Others who spend a lot of time around you don’t to get sick of hearing it over and over
Others are less inclined to wonder why you think they care, because they have sought the information
Others can consult the information at their leisure
You don’t have to worry about omitting crucial information from one telling to another
Anyway, now I sometimes find myself explaining something that happens to already be on my blog, then I get fed up, stop explaining, and simply say “just read my blog.” How selfish of me to consider my time so precious that another moment of human interaction isn’t worth explaining something an extra time.
Some people get offended if you don’t read their blog. I had someone ask me, “Hey, David, how is the blog going?” I, of course, responded “Don’t you read it? If you read it you wouldn’t have to ask me that question.”
I think some day in the future a man will come home from work and say to his wife “Hi, honey, how was your day?” and her response will be a hurt “Don’t you read my blog!?” Or, he might even hear “Are you reading another woman’s blog!?”
I have for some time noticed it, but didn’t know what to call it until today. Affluenza: the disease of epidemic proportions that causes Americans to sacrifice their health, communities, and families, all for the senseless pursuit of owning stuff, or simply “wealth” to buy stuff. Apparently, there’s a TV show on it, a book, and seminars to help combat it (the friend who introduced me to Affluenza noted that perhaps to buy the book was to demonstrate that you have Affluenza). I love this quote from the Amazon.com book review:
“To live, we buy..all the while squelching our intrinsic curiosity, self-motivation, and creativity.”
Apparently this book won’t teach you anything you don’t already know, but it’s exciting to witness our society finally waking up.
Do I have affluenza? I score 15 points on the Affluenza Diagnosis Test, which puts me just below having mild Affluenza. Well, nobody is perfect, and it’s not like all posessions are bad. Some of the things that may or may not make me guilty of Affluenza:
I have a TV…and cable, even though I only watch one or two channels, an average of 1 hour a week.
My computer is always on.
I’m using my Air Conditioner today (we have over 100 degree heat index today!)
My car is a V6, and I drive to work about 4 miles every day at a speed of 30mph.
My personal belief is that if you truly have an intrinsic passion for something, owning a few things that help you exercise that passion is okay. That’s why I won’t count my two guitars, my CD’s, and my book collection. Perhaps I shouldn’t count my computer being on all of the time, because it enables me to exercise my passion for design and for the internet (I believe there is virtue, if used for certain things, in the information classification and transfer that the internet makes possible). Also, working alot of hours has been cited as a symptom of Affluenza, but I do that because I like what I do (not that I never work a few more hours than I’d actually like to).
Of course, the “passion” argument sucks, because someone could say “I have a passion for driving an obnoxious tank that gets 6 miles a gallon half an hour to and from work down the main arterial road of my city,” and that’s not cool. I guess if you’re concerned about it, ask me, and I will tell you whether you should make your purchase or not. I’ll get this all sorted out some day into a solid argument, but until then, just be careful.
A truly fascinating art project related to this from right here in Nebraska: Obsessive Consumption.
Sidethought: I wonder if our economy would just collapse if everyone were magically cured of Affluenza.
The other day I saw Michael Moore’sFarenheit 911. I was initially disturbed by the film, but, like in Bowling for Columbine, it was obvious that Moore was using dramatic devices to try to persuade the viewer, and I knew that the information presented couldn’t be as simple as he was making it out to be. I found myself wishing that someone would compile retorts to the movie’s issues. Then I came across Dave Kopel‘s Fifty-nine Deceits in Farenheit 911. I haven’t had a chance to read the whole thing, but at first blush it looks like a promising resource for hearing the other side of the story, or to just get an understanding of how Moore manages to persuade the poor people who use his movies as their sole information source.
There are very few things in this world that I know enough about to express a strong opinion on, and politics is far from being one of them. I will spare you from hearing another uninformed opinion on politics, but present this resource for you to form your own opinions.
Have you noticed the Shrek Postmarks from our friends at USPS?
This makes me ill. One: pop culture is pervasive enough as it is (which is what makes it pop culture, I guess), and I would rather not have its agents shoved in my face everywhere I go. Two: its one more place you can’t look without being marketed to. Shocked a Graphic Designer is so anti-marketing, or rather this type of marketing? I’m not the only one.
