On Summit

In E.M. Roger's now famous diffusion of innovation theory, adoption of a new product or practice takes the form of a bell shaped curve. This diffusion, as Roger's explains, is "the process in which an innovation is communicated through certain channels over time among the members of a social system...". Rogers’ Innovation Diffusion Bell Curve Note. From Rogers, E.M. (2003) . Diffusion of innovations, New York: The Free Press. Reading left to right, the curve consists of a sliver of innovators that make up just 2.5% of the population. Those are the people on the "bleeding edge" of innovation. They're followed by early adopters (13.5%), the early majority (34%), the late majority (34%), and laggards (16%). While many people have quibbled over how accurate or meaningful Roger's curve is, it remains at least a recognized model for how we might begin to think about innovation and adoption. I bring it up today as a frame of reference regardi...

You may recall a recent blog post in which I assigned grand metaphorical meaning to the derelict vessel in the alley behind our house. Perhaps counter-intuitively, I made the case that this abandon hull was not the irresponsibly disposed of eyesore it might appear to be, but rather an artifact worthy of our contemplation. Oh, it was a magical boat; the embodiment of our journey and the physical manifestation of fate's inscrutable plans. Thurber would have recognized its importance, and probably Shelley too. This woefully out of place boat was a metaphor, signal, and sign all at once; a 12ft long reminder that our small and oft-battered selves have no idea where life's currents might land us. We are all of us adrift on life's great ocean and the future is unwritten! Well, it pains me to report that not everyone has seen the poetic significance of this sadly landlocked vessel. While I was busy ascribing grand themes to the Mystery Ship of Old North Columbus the neighbors ...

The things that show up in our alley aren't typically blog worthy. It's mostly garbage, discarded furniture, and the occasional pile of construction waste. We live in a transitional neighborhood, with lots of tenants and lots of turnover. It's not uncommon to see what's likely the entire contents of someone's apartment stacked in the alley and around the dumpsters. This is understandable. People without a lot of financial resources or a strong support network often have to make tough choices, and make them quickly. If circumstances compel one to abandon the contents of an apartment and travel light for life's next act, that's what you do. The landlord and the collection agency will sort out the rest. That said, there's a boat in our alley. It's not a boat-on-a-trailer-boat, and it's not a canoe-leaned-up-against-someone's-garage-boat. It's an honest-to-God-derelict-vessel of the the 12ft power boat variety, a good two miles from any sort ...

Editor's Note: Portions of this post appeared previously in Jeff Regensburger's Google+ account. It turns out that I've got something of a dilettante's appreciation for hobos. By that I mean that while I find myself intrigued by hobos and their place in the pantheon of American archetypes, I haven't actually taken the time to really, well, learn anything about them. As a result, my understanding of hobos has been shaped more or less by their depictions in popular culture. My Man Godfrey , Emperor of the North , and countless cartoons featuring threadbare vagabonds percolate in my memory alongside odd bits like John Hodgman's zenish list of 700 hobo names . Oh, I tried reading William Vollman's "Riding Toward Everywhere" , but honestly it sort of bogged down. That failed attempt at a more academic appreciation of the subject notwithstanding, I'm left pretty much with the cartoon version of hobos that most of us likely share. Still, the idea of h...

...or, Why I Can't Write About the Past. The Preamble This is really hard. See, there's this thing from the past (a song actually). On the face of it, it's nothing more than semi-obscurist musical footnote; an unreleased track from a third-tier act that might or might not matter. It's the kind of cultural ephemera that, in another era, would have passed quietly into history, inviting neither comment nor reflection. Clearly though this is not another era. It's the age of Web 2.0; the age where everything can be digitized, shared, and commented on. No shred of information is too small, and no piece of the information puzzle is too trivial. So, there's this song. I've been considering sharing it, but I just couldn't pull the trigger. First of all, I'm not quite sure how to do it without coming off as wistful, misty-eyed, or nostalgic. I'm also not sure, in some larger sense, if it's even important enough to share. I mean, I think it's import...

No review of a Guided By Voices show is ever truly complete without a reference to Bob Pollard's leg kicks. Here's some commonly used descriptions you might consider for your next GBV review: Big leg kick High leg kick Really high leg kick Boozy leg kick Classic leg kick Chin-high leg kick Waist-high leg kick Kung-fu leg kick Patented high leg kick Trademark high leg kick Botched Bob leg kick Aforementioned leg kick High leg kick or really high leg kick? Good critics can tell the difference. Check back next month for Reviewing Guided By Voices: Part Two: Estimating Bob Pollard's Blood Alcohol Level .

Recently, the Wall Street Journal published an article by Meghan Cox Gurdon decrying the state of contemporary young adult literature. To hear Ms. Gurdon tell it YA literature has become little more than a cesspool of sex and violence cultivated by amoral publishers and depraved authors. Oh it's a threatening landscape to be sure; one full of "ever-more-alarming offerings", "hideously distorted portrayals of what life is", and "damage, brutality and losses of the most horrendous kinds". Now, if that sounds a bit over the top, it is. Gurdon's article is an inflammatory screed of such epic proportions that it almost defies argument. Her accusations, assumptions, and misrepresentations fly so quickly and with such vigor that a rebuttal seems nearly impossible. Should one strike first at her narrow characterization of YA literature or her tacit approval of censorship? Should opponents spend pages debunking the supposed ill-effects of exposure to ...