Louis J. Montulli II, who helped create the early Web browsers Lynx and Netscape, also provided the spark of inspiration behind the <blink> tag. Here's how he remembers it happening:

The danger of joking with humorless people…

shortformblog:

Sometime in late summer I took a break with some of the other engineers and went to a local bar on Castro street in Mountain View. The bar was the St. James Infirmary and it had a 30 foot wonder woman statue inside among other interesting things. At some point in the evening I mentioned that it was sad that Lynx was not going to be able to display many of the HTML extensions that we were proposing,  I also pointed out that the only text style that Lynx could exploit given its environment was blinking text. We had a pretty good laugh at the thought of blinking text, and talked about blinking this and that and how absurd the whole thing would be. The evening progressed pretty normally from there, with a fair amount more drinking and me meeting the girl who would later become my first wife.

Saturday morning rolled around and I headed into the office only to find what else but, blinking text. It was on the screen blinking in all its glory, and in the browser. How could this be, you might ask? It turns out that one of the engineers liked my idea so much that he left the bar sometime past midnight, returned to the office and implemented the blink tag overnight. He was still there in the morning and quite proud of it.

Montulli says that he won’t name the engineers that actually implemented his joke idea. But he wants to make one thing clear: “I would like to publicly state that at no time did I actually write code or even seriously advocate for the <blink> tag.”  Poor guy, having to live down a terrible idea his co-workers took seriously. (via Hacker News)

An interesting argument, and I partially agree. Any kind of anger eventually burns itself out. But the fact remains that we&#8217;ve now had an unprecedented three &#8220;throw the bums out&#8221; elections in a row: 2006, when people were sick of the Republicans in Congress; 2008, when they were sick of George W. Bush; and 2010, when they became sick of Obama and the Congressional Democrats.
The sum total of those elections turned out to be more bums and less action. Backlash isn&#8217;t working. But the polls show public opinion remains volatile, and all the incentives for Washington to stay gridlocked remain in place. So I&#8217;m not sure whether the public just gives up, or does something really unexpected. 
thenewrepublic:

Could political anger really be on its way out? 
“When politics is not saturated by crisis, the months after a presidential election generally bring a cooler climate to Washington. We’ve been in a hot phase since about late 2005, when anger over the Iraq War peaked, and three massive change elections followed, in 2006, 2008, and 2010. Anger has been the prevailing tone of politics since the recession began, and the failure, before the arrival of the Occupy movement, of the President, Democratic politicians, and most progressive organizations to master the politics of anger has been central to the story of the last few years. But anger is a difficult force to sustain. Whether it’s left-populist anger, right-populist anger, or the anger of bankers whose bonuses are smaller than expected, it burns bright and eventually burns out.”
- Mark Schmitt, “Why 2012 May Mark the End of an Era of Political Anger”
Photo courtesy of The Boston Globe

An interesting argument, and I partially agree. Any kind of anger eventually burns itself out. But the fact remains that we’ve now had an unprecedented three “throw the bums out” elections in a row: 2006, when people were sick of the Republicans in Congress; 2008, when they were sick of George W. Bush; and 2010, when they became sick of Obama and the Congressional Democrats.

The sum total of those elections turned out to be more bums and less action. Backlash isn’t working. But the polls show public opinion remains volatile, and all the incentives for Washington to stay gridlocked remain in place. So I’m not sure whether the public just gives up, or does something really unexpected. 

thenewrepublic:

Could political anger really be on its way out? 

“When politics is not saturated by crisis, the months after a presidential election generally bring a cooler climate to Washington. We’ve been in a hot phase since about late 2005, when anger over the Iraq War peaked, and three massive change elections followed, in 2006, 2008, and 2010. Anger has been the prevailing tone of politics since the recession began, and the failure, before the arrival of the Occupy movement, of the President, Democratic politicians, and most progressive organizations to master the politics of anger has been central to the story of the last few years. But anger is a difficult force to sustain. Whether it’s left-populist anger, right-populist anger, or the anger of bankers whose bonuses are smaller than expected, it burns bright and eventually burns out.”

- Mark Schmitt, “Why 2012 May Mark the End of an Era of Political Anger

Photo courtesy of The Boston Globe

‘I am just going outside and may be some time’: Oates and the rest of us

One hundred years ago today, a man lay dying in an Antarctic tent, his feet frostbitten. His companions wouldn’t leave him behind. They were dying too, just more slowly than he was. Their food and fuel was running out, and any hope they had of making it to the nearest cache of supplies was dwindling because the man was slowing them down.

So he left.

“I am just going outside and may be some time,” he said, and stumbled out into a blizzard.

The man was Lawrence Oates, and he was part of Capt. Robert Scott’s doomed last expedition to the Antarctic. They hoped to be the first explorers to reach the South Pole, only to find Roald Amundsen had beaten them there by a month. Then on the trip back, it was “tragedy all along the line,” in Scott’s words. In the end, even Oates’ sacrifice wasn’t enough to save them. The last survivors died just 11 miles away from a supply depot.

I first encountered Oates’ story (and the painting of it above) in a children’s book about explorers, and was enthralled by his courage and nobility. As a grown man, there is something else that strikes me even more strongly.

Oates was the expedition’s wiseass.

We know about Oates’ sacrifice because of Scott’s diary, found alongside the captain’s body. Scott was nothing if not an Edwardian gentleman, and he told the story the way an Edwardian would. You can practically see him squaring his shoulders when he’s writing it, the naval officer keeping his log: “Should this be found I want these facts recorded.” There’s a certain assumption, the same one you also get in stories about the Titanic (which sank just a few weeks later). A gentleman should know how to die.

But if you read Oates’ letters, you see something different. To use a modern term, he’s snarky. He also comes off as the expedition’s Cassandra. Oates knows the expedition’s problems, and his ideas are mostly ignored. “Myself, I dislike Scott intensely and would chuck the whole thing if it were not that we are a British expedition,” he wrote.

And all of a sudden Oates is very familiar. We know this guy. Most of us have been this guy at one point or another. He’s the one grumbling in the back of every conference room, convinced the project is going off the rails and that he knows how to do the job better. But he believes in the mission, so he sticks it out and does his best.

I can’t tell you how many people like this I’ve met in public interest work and journalism. Ask a teacher. Ask a cop. Ask a social worker. Ask people in just about any nonprofit, government department or social service agency you care to name.

Most organizations undervalue their wiseasses. If you’re in charge, they can be tiring and troublesome. (Although, to Scott’s credit, he seemed to value Oates, even if Oates didn’t like him). Don’t think for a moment, however, that I’m making light of Oates, or people like him. Oates laid down his life for the expedition and his comrades. It’s a sad irony that the person who saw the expedition’s flaws so clearly ended up being the one who took himself out in an attempt to save it.

Oates the hero is inspiring but remote, a man from another time and in a situation most of us will never face. Oates the guy who soldiers on is another story. He’s got a lot in common with the people who keep the world running every day. And while that role may not be dramatic, there’s nobility in that, too.

For the first time since 1949, the United States is a net exporter of petroleum products. Feel any different?
Probably not. Which is why energy independence may be less important than most politicians admit.

For the first time since 1949, the United States is a net exporter of petroleum products. Feel any different?

Probably not. Which is why energy independence may be less important than most politicians admit.

pastisthepresent:

March 10th - On this day in 1876, Alexander Graham Bell makes history by making the first successful call on his invention, the telephone.

On March 10, 1876, three days after his patent was issued, Bell succeeded in getting his telephone to work, using a liquid transmitter similar to Elisha Gray’s design. Vibration of the diaphragm caused a needle to vibrate in the water, varying the electrical resistance in the circuit. When Bell spoke the famous sentence “Mr Watson—Come here—I want to see you” into the liquid transmitter, Watson, listening at the receiving end in an adjoining room, heard the words clearly.

Since it’s invention in early 1876, the creator of the telephone has been questioned as it was first developed by several people, but Alexander Graham Bell was the first to successfully use the device. 

I read a fair number of conservative and liberal blogs. While each is pretty good at explaining their respective political philosophy, they all are absolutely terrible at economics. By terrible, I mean that, without a doubt, they are abject failures of the highest order. Let me give you a few examples.

Hale Stewart, The Big Picture. Memo To Political Bloggers: Please Stop Writing About Economics; You Really Suck At It.

FJP: But sometimes charts and graphs look so nice.

(via futurejournalismproject)

Stewart’s six questions for bloggers (three for conservatives, three for progressives) are right on point.

All the adults are saying, ‘We need to improve science in the world. Let’s train the kids.’ I’ve never heard an adult say, ‘We need more science in the world. Train me.’

revkin:

On Cronkite, the Web and two kinds of comfort food: An excerpt from my recent Duke talk on the role of the Web in smoothing the journey for humanity in this crowding, complicated century. This is one of a few downer moments in an upbeat spiel: 

“For those who grew up in the twentieth century, which is a shrinking number of people in a room like this these days, we had supper with [Walter Cronkite] or with his peers – these white men on TV would dole the news as if it was mac and cheese comfort food for dinner…. There was something very reassuring about all of that… And he signed off in such a reassuring way. People just told us, “That’s the way it is,” and we didn’t have to think. If you picked up The New York Times, it was the same way…. Now, whether you’re thinking about climate or the Middle East or whatever, we’re still dining on comfort food, but it’s like the world’s largest buffet. If you like sushi or Indian or Tex Mex, if you’re libertarian or liberal you can find a Web site to feed you what makes you feel good. So we’re in an environment in which information is largely self-reinforcing rather than challenging or enriching.”

Help by transcribing any moments you like, or dislike.

My favorite Truman photo, but only my second-favorite Truman quote. The first?
&#8220;A statesman is a politician who has been dead 10 or 15 years.&#8221;
ourpresidents:


“My choice early in life was either to be a piano  player in a  whorehouse or a politician. And to tell the truth, there’s  hardly any  difference.”
Harry S Truman

Bacall and Truman are at the National Press Club canteen, February 12, 1945.
awesomepeoplehangingouttogether:

Lauren Bacall and Harry S. Truman

My favorite Truman photo, but only my second-favorite Truman quote. The first?

“A statesman is a politician who has been dead 10 or 15 years.”

ourpresidents:

“My choice early in life was either to be a piano player in a whorehouse or a politician. And to tell the truth, there’s hardly any difference.”

Harry S Truman

Bacall and Truman are at the National Press Club canteen, February 12, 1945.

awesomepeoplehangingouttogether:

Lauren Bacall and Harry S. Truman

Should musicians be worried about technology taking their jobs, too? Then again, somebody’s got the compose the music, as well as program the robot musicians.