I was invited to join the XML London Programme Committee, probably to shut me up after I spent some of XML Prague talking Charles Foster into making the conference happen again this year. Geert Bormans, Tom Hillman and Andrew Sales have also joined, and Charles remains Chair.
XML London is happening on June 10-11 at University College London. The submission deadline is on March 21 and all you need to produce now is an extended abstract that outlines your full paper, and presentation.
So, today I needed a flowchart editor. Something like Visio, really, but less bloated and available on Linux and Windows. I did a quick Google search.
There’s Dia, obviously. It’s not being developed these days, though, and I never did like it much. Also, it looks bad on a HiDPI screen–my laptop is blessed (or cursed, if you run Java software) with 4k.
The next thing suggested was yEd, developed by yWorks, a company specialising in “the development of professional software solutions that enable the clear visualization of diagrams and networks.” They had an online HTML5 version that I tried and liked, and even better, the desktop software was a) available for Linux, and b) free. Now, yEd is written in Java so a) wasn’t actually all that surprising, but for a company whose bread and butter is diagrams, releasing it for free was.
But Java, you say? What about HiDPI? Well, here’s the best part: while most of their downloads include a prepackaged JREÂ 8, they also make available the JAR without the JRE, allowing me to run it in an early release JRE 9, and Java 9 has supported HiDPI for quite some time now. And let me just say this: yEd looks great. It’s perfectly scaled, with beautiful icons and a spacey interface.
Plus, on top of the HiDPI goodness, the software itself is great. I’m really pleased.
So many changes already.
I said no to this year’s Göteborg Film Festival, having worked at film festivals since 1987 (and since 1990 at the Draken).
I didn’t submit a paper to XML Prague this year. I was there, though. Naturally.
If you love XML and markup languages, and think you have something to say, submit a paper. We will judge you but we will also welcome you. There are few better places than XML Prague to introduce an idea or make an argument.
You know you want to.
I’m in Bethesda, MD, just outside of Washington DC, and this year’s Balisage conference starts tomorrow. I’m excited and a bit nervous.
I’ve spent most of today preparing my talk, which is why I’m nervous. It always happens. While planning a paper, I tend to be convinced that it’s the greatest thing ever, or not very far off. While writing it, uneasiness creeps in and while I’m still convinced of the paper’s merits, I am no longer sure I should be the one writing it. I put it off, one day at a time, thinking that I have plenty of time to rediscover the enthusiasm that led me to the subject to begin with and decide I should clean up my computer instead. Or something equally pointless.
This goes on until the last possible moment, that is, a few days before the submission deadline, after which I force myself to write the first draft and submit it, usually minutes before midnight on the final day. A more charitable person might call this “process”, but “terror” is probably closer to the truth.
Completing the second draft, provided that the first is accepted, of course, tends to be similar. If my self-doubt runs sufficiently deep, I will have trouble opening the reviewers’ comments and much more trouble updating the paper itself. Again, a last-minute fix is required and is what usually happens.
Wash, rinse, repeat for the slides.
Which is why I’m writing this instead of finalising the slides.
Well, thanks for asking.
XML London was great. There was a lot of focus on XSLT 3.0, with Abel Braaksma discussing the intricacies of processing uninterrupted streams (I really need to get around to playing with streaming transformations soon), and a workshop on XSLT 3.0’s new packaging features with both him and Michael Kay, but also a number of interesting case studies. Special mention should go to Lech Rzedzicki for his brilliant talk on XML, blockchains and regulatory reporting in finance (no, I’m not going to tell you what blockchains are; you should read his paper), but also to John Sheridan and Jim Mangiafico for their presentation of their easier-to-use search language and tools for UK legislation. This latter talk holds a very special interest to me, as I recently wrote something similar if not quite as refined for my client, LexisNexis UK.
Also, my friend Andrew Sales presented a case study on what, on the surface, looked like a migration project but where all the cleverness was actually about making the editing and publishing chains as foolproof as possible. It’s a brilliant solution, one that any fan of meta-programming (code generating code) should appreciate.
And yes, Close Encounters of the Third Kind in 35mm was a treat, even though the sound was poorer than expected.
I’m in London one week out of four, and this week is one of them. Usually, my London visits are all about meeting colleagues face to face and working in an actual office rather than in my basement study, grabbing a pint with friends at The Harrow, and buying too many books at Foyle’s and Waterstone’s. This week, though, I’m adding two things to this already solid plan:
One: I will watch Close Encounters of the Third Kind at BFI Southbank. Close Encounters is my favourite film. I’ve watched it dozens of times in cinemas over the years and probably as many times on video, DVD and Blu-ray. I own almost every version of it in existence (if you have the 35mm or 70mm print and wish to part with them, let me know), but also a fair amount of associated paraphernalia, from books to graphic novels to soundtracks. It’s an amazing film. It’s pure magic.
Two: I will attend XML London. It’s my first time there and it’s nice to attend a conference just for fun (meaning that I have no involvement with it, speaking, reviewing or otherwise). Who knows, I might do a paper for them in the future, but this year, I’ll stay in the background and let others do the talking.
I’m excited.
My paper submission for this year’s Balisage was accepted. I’ll be talking about toys, among other things.
Well, it’s either that or that I’m lazy. I have been busy in real life, though, and it’s sometimes hard to prioritise a blog post, even when I have something I actually want to say.
Which I really don’t, right now.
This is where I wanted to do a thorough write-up on The Hateful Eight, the new Quentin Tarantino film I watched in 70mm Ultra Panavision at the Imperial in Copenhagen, Denmark. Unfortunately, life got in the way and I’ve had no time to spend on my occasional blog, so here are the highlights:
The film itself is a typical Tarantino film, relying heavily on dialogue and actors doing what the director tells them to do. This, however, means closeups and not much else, which brings me to my next point.
Ultra Panavision is, well, ultra wide. Among the so-called letterbox formats, it’s ridiculously wide. As it’s a 70mm format, the resolution is, at least theoretically, ridiculously high, bringing me to my third point.
There are very few shots that actually require that resolution. Most of them don’t, and even though I know there are people who will disagree with me, this film would have fared better without the 70mm format. So here’s my fourth point.
The Hateful Eight, also known as H8, would have been a better movie, at least a more enjoyable one, if filmed in a less extreme format. As things stand, the ultra wide screen is a distraction, and the resolution, while nice, is not needed. The story is there regardless, but the format is, well, abused. Which brings me to my fifth point.
It is in the nature of the format itself that it lends itself better to the kind of film that makes actual use of its grandeur. It is also a format that no-one could run unaided today; the company had to provide cinemas with projectors and lenses and whatnot, or the shows would have been limited at best, even for the cinemas that do have their 70mm equipment intact. See, Ultra Panavision requires a special kind of lens that no-one has today, and very few had in the 60s when the format was last used at all. It’s not your garden variety 70mm, it’s, well, ultra special.
So to my last point: H8 does a disservice to every filmmaker wanting to film in 70mm since it uses the format wrong, in my humble opinion. It happened because Tarantino had the clout to do it, not because it was required. As a result, the presentations, including that at the Imperial, were lacking, sometimes severely, because it’s the one format that no-one can screen without help.
The film itself? Well, typically Tarantino. Think Reservoir Dogs with lots of money and hype.