My strongest thought on the readings for this week (which I admit I skimmed through rather quickly) was that they take an appealingly optimistic and can-do attitude towards things that we read about at the beginning of the semester. We started off reading about all the problems with current education, and ended up reading about all the empowered, progressive things people are doing to fix them. How lovely to come full circle and end on that positive note!
Last week's class was brief, and we spent most of our time working on the webinars. I had missed the previous class, in which how to produce a webinar was explained, so I was somewhat adrift when it came to the actual technology, but my group members clued me in fairly quickly. Overall, I enjoyed researching our topic and even had fun putting the presentation together, but I can't help but feel that our topic wasn't an ideal one for the format. There wasn't much we said or did that couldn't have been presented in a lecture or recorded format, with some slides. I envision webinars as being more like the seminars that their name comes from--topics that invite tons of discussion and collaboration, rather than a few people presenting knowledge to many others. On the other hand, being able to present a pre-researched topic, rather than trying to manage a full-blown conversation, was probably a huge blessing for those of us new to the medium--I had more than enough trouble keeping track of the chat frame when I wasn't speaking, I can't imagine trying to do both at once, at least not without a lot more practice.
Showing posts with label reading reflection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading reflection. Show all posts
15 April 2012
31 March 2012
Week 11: Twitter Reflection
So, this week is Twitter week in SI 643! I missed class on Monday (see image below for explanation), so I didn't get to hear anything about this assignment (and consequently don't have a class reflection post), but, well, I kind of adore Twitter, and I've been using it for years, so I'm pretty sure I can manage.
Or, at least, I was sure. Until I realized that I don't actually really read my Twitter feed these days, because that takes time. And time is in short supply lately. In some ways, Twitter is a good thing for people with no time--140 characters can't take more than a few seconds to read, no matter what they say. Unfortunately, when you're following 270-odd people, many of whom seem to spend all of their time reading fun things and re-posting them to Twitter... you get a full book's worth of reading every day.
So now I'm trying to consume enough librarian tweeting to have something to talk about in this blog post, but a lot of it is the same stuff we've been talking about in class and other blog posts. And the things my classmates are posting are seriously interesting, but mostly I have to save them to read later. Maybe I should've written about Twitter for my SI 500 case study. Hopefully I'll spend tomorrow's procrastination time reading all these articles and find something more interesting to say here...
As far as people I've started following (besides classmates), I've found myself drawn to people who have some sort of gimmick (for lack of a better word) to their librarianship--they're into gaming, or knitting, or bondage, or whatever. Or they're fake accounts dedicated to mocking the enemies of libraries. These people seem to have more attitude than the people who tweet seriously--and I've always used Twitter as much for my amusement as for actual information (especially lately), so I'd rather read their snark than add yet more fascinating-but-time-consuming articles to my list. It's not that Twitter can't be a serious medium, it's just that it doesn't currently benefit me to use it that way. Maybe that'll change once my inner self stops sobbing and shaking and pulling at her hair from finals-time-stress, but that remains to be seen.
Bonus fact: The best way to get me to follow you is to put "PRAGMATISM IS MY SUPERPOWER" in your description.
(screen-captured from Weather.com)
Or, at least, I was sure. Until I realized that I don't actually really read my Twitter feed these days, because that takes time. And time is in short supply lately. In some ways, Twitter is a good thing for people with no time--140 characters can't take more than a few seconds to read, no matter what they say. Unfortunately, when you're following 270-odd people, many of whom seem to spend all of their time reading fun things and re-posting them to Twitter... you get a full book's worth of reading every day.
So now I'm trying to consume enough librarian tweeting to have something to talk about in this blog post, but a lot of it is the same stuff we've been talking about in class and other blog posts. And the things my classmates are posting are seriously interesting, but mostly I have to save them to read later. Maybe I should've written about Twitter for my SI 500 case study. Hopefully I'll spend tomorrow's procrastination time reading all these articles and find something more interesting to say here...
As far as people I've started following (besides classmates), I've found myself drawn to people who have some sort of gimmick (for lack of a better word) to their librarianship--they're into gaming, or knitting, or bondage, or whatever. Or they're fake accounts dedicated to mocking the enemies of libraries. These people seem to have more attitude than the people who tweet seriously--and I've always used Twitter as much for my amusement as for actual information (especially lately), so I'd rather read their snark than add yet more fascinating-but-time-consuming articles to my list. It's not that Twitter can't be a serious medium, it's just that it doesn't currently benefit me to use it that way. Maybe that'll change once my inner self stops sobbing and shaking and pulling at her hair from finals-time-stress, but that remains to be seen.
Bonus fact: The best way to get me to follow you is to put "PRAGMATISM IS MY SUPERPOWER" in your description.
25 March 2012
Week 10: Reading Reflection
"Online Webinars! Interactive Learning Where Our Users Are: The Future of Embedded Librarianship" Susan E. Montgomery
My thoughts while reading the beginning of this article were along the lines of "Why does she think she needs to convince people that college students use the internet a lot?" That's pretty much a given. It was a given in 2010, too. She also uses statistics on internet use and cell phone/computer ownership from 2005 and 2006--though it's only been six or seven years, they're very outdated. And they don't take smartphones into account, because smartphones didn't really exist in 2006. Add that to clunky phrases like "as online use by students continues to grow..." (310) and I'm just confused. I can't tell exactly whom the audience for the paper is--I'd assume it's librarians, but then she makes statements like "Librarians are familiar with the value of using Webinars for instruction" (309), which sort of goes against the notion that they don't know or believe that college students do a lot of "online use." She makes a decent argument for why webinars are useful, but I'm not sure it really needed to be made, at least not to the people who are reading this article.
My thoughts while reading the beginning of this article were along the lines of "Why does she think she needs to convince people that college students use the internet a lot?" That's pretty much a given. It was a given in 2010, too. She also uses statistics on internet use and cell phone/computer ownership from 2005 and 2006--though it's only been six or seven years, they're very outdated. And they don't take smartphones into account, because smartphones didn't really exist in 2006. Add that to clunky phrases like "as online use by students continues to grow..." (310) and I'm just confused. I can't tell exactly whom the audience for the paper is--I'd assume it's librarians, but then she makes statements like "Librarians are familiar with the value of using Webinars for instruction" (309), which sort of goes against the notion that they don't know or believe that college students do a lot of "online use." She makes a decent argument for why webinars are useful, but I'm not sure it really needed to be made, at least not to the people who are reading this article.
"The Embedded Librarian Online or Face-to- Face: American University’s Experiences" Michael A. Matos, Nobue Matsuoka-Motley, and William Mayer
This essay has a lot of typos, and it's really bothering me. "Verses" substituted for "versus" makes my head explode. I hope it was actually a typo and not a real misunderstanding.
Anyway... I'm not particularly into this idea of moving library collections directly into the departments they correspond to. The article gives a few logistical and administrative ways in which the plan can go wrong, but to me it seems that physically splitting apart the library by topic breaks down the ability of a researcher to make connections across fields. This particularly dangerous in humanities fields where the research for one subject has a large overlap with another. Obviously there are already many specialized libraries for things like film, music, engineering, et cetera... but I think encouraging students to think of the library resources as a whole, rather than considering them as a set of unconnected sections that happen to be in physical proximity to each other, makes for better research.
I do think that the emphasis on building direct relationships with faculty and students in a given department is spot-on, though, and that connecting the collection to the department is important. It should just stay physically in the library.
I feel like I'm overwhelmingly negative in this post... I do think both articles bring up interesting and useful points. The weaknesses are just easier to write about.
I'm also not completely sure how I feel about webinars as a library tool. Both of the articles talk about the need to have librarians accessible often, and via a broad range of tools--the idea of webinars doesn't seem to fit so well to me, because (unlike pre-recorded tutorials or real-time chat) they are time-based and have to be scheduled. Students want individualized answers when they actually need them, and scheduling time for a webinar among other commitments is difficult. I think they're a good teaching tool, but one-on-one interaction and accessibility seems more important to me.
But......... that might just be because it was so hard for me to find time to do one. Archiving past webinars is definitely a huge help.
This essay has a lot of typos, and it's really bothering me. "Verses" substituted for "versus" makes my head explode. I hope it was actually a typo and not a real misunderstanding.
Anyway... I'm not particularly into this idea of moving library collections directly into the departments they correspond to. The article gives a few logistical and administrative ways in which the plan can go wrong, but to me it seems that physically splitting apart the library by topic breaks down the ability of a researcher to make connections across fields. This particularly dangerous in humanities fields where the research for one subject has a large overlap with another. Obviously there are already many specialized libraries for things like film, music, engineering, et cetera... but I think encouraging students to think of the library resources as a whole, rather than considering them as a set of unconnected sections that happen to be in physical proximity to each other, makes for better research.
I do think that the emphasis on building direct relationships with faculty and students in a given department is spot-on, though, and that connecting the collection to the department is important. It should just stay physically in the library.
I feel like I'm overwhelmingly negative in this post... I do think both articles bring up interesting and useful points. The weaknesses are just easier to write about.
I'm also not completely sure how I feel about webinars as a library tool. Both of the articles talk about the need to have librarians accessible often, and via a broad range of tools--the idea of webinars doesn't seem to fit so well to me, because (unlike pre-recorded tutorials or real-time chat) they are time-based and have to be scheduled. Students want individualized answers when they actually need them, and scheduling time for a webinar among other commitments is difficult. I think they're a good teaching tool, but one-on-one interaction and accessibility seems more important to me.
But......... that might just be because it was so hard for me to find time to do one. Archiving past webinars is definitely a huge help.
11 March 2012
Week 8: Reading Reflection
"Dangerous Questions at the Reference Desk" Mark Lenker, 2008.
My primary though throughout this article was "So ... where do these things stop?" The text presupposes a fundamental divide between the reference librarian and the available library materials (or just the internet access provided in the library). It also assumes that patrons with an obviously "dangerous" question are likely to approach the reference desk, which seems rather unlikely to me. When it comes down to it, librarians are just another resource--a lively, sparkling, brilliant, awesome resource... but in some ways we're just a path to information, same as a library catalog or Google. Even if we don't help someone find instructions for building a bomb or growing marijuana, he can still find the information on his own. This seems more a question of personal liability and ethics than a larger policy question--with emphasis on the liability aspect.
On the other hand, I really appreciate that the emphasis of "virtues analysis" is placed on the librarian him/herself as an ethical being, rather than an evaluation of the patron. I've read a couple of blog/twitter posts from people (not any of our star bloggers) who were pretty darn sure they could tell which people were asking for information about illegal substances/actions for research purposes and which people wanted to break the law--the answer to the latter basically being "teenagers" in every case. Considering how upset I got at those people, I really value Lenker's article for avoiding this kind of evaluation, and placing the burden of ethical decision on the librarian.
Two small notes: "vice" seems like a rather poor word choice in the present day, considering the connotation has shifted from "negative personal quality" to "self-indulgent habit." Similarly, I can't help laughing at the Victorian quality of the "virtue" vocabulary--"personal dissoluteness" rings in my head in the voice of a disapproving nineteenth century matriarch, disparaging her grandson for his drinking habits. But maybe I just read too much.
My primary though throughout this article was "So ... where do these things stop?" The text presupposes a fundamental divide between the reference librarian and the available library materials (or just the internet access provided in the library). It also assumes that patrons with an obviously "dangerous" question are likely to approach the reference desk, which seems rather unlikely to me. When it comes down to it, librarians are just another resource--a lively, sparkling, brilliant, awesome resource... but in some ways we're just a path to information, same as a library catalog or Google. Even if we don't help someone find instructions for building a bomb or growing marijuana, he can still find the information on his own. This seems more a question of personal liability and ethics than a larger policy question--with emphasis on the liability aspect.
On the other hand, I really appreciate that the emphasis of "virtues analysis" is placed on the librarian him/herself as an ethical being, rather than an evaluation of the patron. I've read a couple of blog/twitter posts from people (not any of our star bloggers) who were pretty darn sure they could tell which people were asking for information about illegal substances/actions for research purposes and which people wanted to break the law--the answer to the latter basically being "teenagers" in every case. Considering how upset I got at those people, I really value Lenker's article for avoiding this kind of evaluation, and placing the burden of ethical decision on the librarian.
Two small notes: "vice" seems like a rather poor word choice in the present day, considering the connotation has shifted from "negative personal quality" to "self-indulgent habit." Similarly, I can't help laughing at the Victorian quality of the "virtue" vocabulary--"personal dissoluteness" rings in my head in the voice of a disapproving nineteenth century matriarch, disparaging her grandson for his drinking habits. But maybe I just read too much.
19 February 2012
Week 6: Reading Reflection
The two Library Journal articles assigned this week, by Barbara Hoffert and Beth Dempsey, both focus on the new types of book club culture that center around libraries. One of the key ideas is that libraries do well to provide some sort of book club kit, or being able to provide a selection of thematically/topically related books for a club that does not all want to read the same thing. The Ann Arbor District Library provides Book Club to Go kits, which include ten copies of a book, a copy of the DVD (if available), and some supplementary materials in relation to the author and material. They also include evaluation forms, which allow readers to give the library feedback on the kit. I haven't looked into these kits very closely, but now I'm intrigued--I haven't seen them circulate very much, but I bet they do, since Ann Arbor is exactly the sort of community the Dempsey article mentions as being enthusiastic about book clubs (educated, well-off, et cetera). The titles are predictable, Water for Elephants, The Kite Runner, and easy classics like The Great Gatsby. Good books, but ones that people are likely to have read before, either in school or picked up off a bestseller list. Most of the books mentioned in the two articles are more ambitious, or more obscure. I imagine this works best when there's one person, a librarian or other type of leader, selecting the material and giving a rationale for that selection.
I'm not particularly familiar with book clubs, but I imagine them (at their best) to be pretty much like all the literature classes I took in college. Without anyone actually trying to teach anything directly--since literature classes are always a combined effort to situate the historical fact of a given writer/text and further the critical reading and writing skills of students (literature studies is all about transfer)--but with pretty much the same result. At their worst, they would probably make me tear my hair out--but I've had classes like that too. It's all about the people who are there. I'm up for trying one.
I'm not particularly familiar with book clubs, but I imagine them (at their best) to be pretty much like all the literature classes I took in college. Without anyone actually trying to teach anything directly--since literature classes are always a combined effort to situate the historical fact of a given writer/text and further the critical reading and writing skills of students (literature studies is all about transfer)--but with pretty much the same result. At their worst, they would probably make me tear my hair out--but I've had classes like that too. It's all about the people who are there. I'm up for trying one.
Metzger, Margaret. "Teaching reading: beyond the plot." Phi Delta Kappan 80.3 (1998): 240. Academic OneFile. Web. 8 Jan. 2011.
"Reading is invisible," writes Metzger. There aren't drafts to check, and no ability to command a student, "show your work," like in a math class. As soon as I read that statement, I thought, "that's what's wrong with reading education! That's why it doesn't work!"
To bring in our discussions about data-retention and test-based teaching (and employ some of Metzger's conclusions along with my own speculation): those "bad" methods aren't the greatest way to teach most things, but they're also better than nothing. When it comes to reading, though... reading is purely skill, not factual knowledge (you can argue that knowing the alphabet and having some command of phonetics works this way, but knowing those things doesn't necessarily mean you can read in a meaningful sense). The institution of reading comprehension tests is a way to gauge whether people can read, but they don't (unless they're really, really craftily written) reveal anything about how they read--so unless a teacher is particularly intuitive, how are they supposed to know where things have gone wrong?
The description of the Socratic Seminar seems clever to me, and like something that would work really well to engage a group of non-proficient readers... but like something that would have people already comfortable with literature chomping at the bit (well, that's my feeling, anyway), and so should be not be used as a panacea teaching method. So I'll leave this article with one hysterically true fact: "Cinderella is not about foot fetishes or love throughout the universe."
The other article on Socratic Seminars, by Lynda Tredway, seems to focus on using them to compare different texts, rather than to excavate a single excerpt (Can I add here that I hate when teachers use excerpts instead of whole novels or stories? Sure, you can learn analytic skills from them, but you're cheating the text out of true criticism and the students out of a comprehensive understanding of what they're reading. What works for nonfiction does not always apply to fiction.), which starts off in a good place by assuming that making connections between two texts is the point of the lesson, rather than something to be done later once one has honed one's skills on a single piece of writing. I'm not sure that being able to solve ethical quandaries is what I'd list as the main goal of education, but I'm willing to consider it as a serious aim.
Last but not least... Mark Prensky's proposition that a school lead the wave of the future by getting rid of all its paper books, and forcing students to do likewise. This is the third or fourth time I've read it, and it still makes me want to laugh myself sick. Not just because he very deliberately misunderstands both the idea of hypertext and the complications of producing digital texts, but because he is just so. darn. proud. of. himself. So I'll save my snark for class.
12 February 2012
Week 5: Reading Reflection
In the article "Put Understanding First," Wiggins and McTighe argue (correctly, I believe) that high schools teach skills too much "in isolation," and without providing a context either for using the skills or for appreciating that they are important. As I read, I was thinking about the (many, many, many) instances of this facts-without-application problem that I've encountered, as well as situations where a teacher managed to circumvent it, whether intentionally or by accident. The one that most stuck in my mind is actually a case where I don't think the authors of the article would have, at first glance, thought anything good was happening--but to me it suggests that there are more factors to be considered than just changing the way we give tests.
The article uses history classes as examples several times, and the subject seems to present an unusually thorny issue for educators. I think much of the problem comes from teachers and schools not wanting to appear to be pushing an agenda. The examples Wiggins and McTighe give of how to be a better history teacher would have to be followed very carefully, with lots of emphasis on the students forming their own conclusions, or run the risk of biasing the lesson. I'm not for censoring teachers, really (the teacher I describe below definitely had an agenda, even if it was mostly just to poke fun at any historical personage who took his or her own ideology too seriously), but there's enough of a battle going to keep creationism out of science classrooms that I don't fancy giving prejudiced or highly religious teachers an open license to revise history. We have required curricula for a reason. We just need to figure out a better way to teach them.
More than once, the article references the history class scene from Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I only vaguely remember the film (despite having seen it about fifteen times--why did all my high school teachers think that was the one movie they should show the day before Christmas or after AP exams? Did they think it made them seem edgy to show a movie about skipping school?), but I get the reference: monotone teacher drones on and on, answering his own questions.
Weirdly enough, I had a history teacher like that, but he was anything but dull. He was such an odd man (he'd come back from Vietnam a bit shell-shocked, looked like a cross between between Lurch from The Addams Family and Henry Blake on M*A*S*H, and was known for spending any time he wasn't teaching napping in his hard wooden desk chair), and his teaching method--a detailed outline of the day's material on the board, with blanks where names, dates, and figures would be filled in as he lectured--was so clever (the need to know what went into the blanks was irresistible), nobody ever zoned out in his class. He'd been using the same outlines and the same exams for decades. When the Emperor of Japan died in 1989, he simply crossed out 'Hirohito' and wrote in 'Akihito' on the typescript of the test (I hope nobody got that question wrong)... and was still handing it out with the Scantron sheets in 2001. He rarely asked questions of the class, and when he did they were more or less rhetorical. But it worked. He told stories as he lectured, some of them about his own (absurdly-exciting-for-a-suburban-teacher) life, some quirky, non-textbook side notes to the historical data (I distinctly remember him raising his eyebrows and making a crack about the dubious paternity of Genghis Khan's oldest child), and some that I'm pretty sure were just made up. It was riveting. And by being so clearly fascinated with his subject, and so unapologetically confident that it was of utmost importance to living in the real world, he made us believe it too.
I'm not sure how to address the issue of "transfer" with Mr. Gillespie's classes--the teaching and testing were at first glance exactly what Wiggins and McTighe take issue with. But there's something to be said for being able to capture the unwavering attention of a two dozen fifteen-year-olds for an hour a day, five days a week, nine months a year. In some cases, really good, retention-building teaching is just about being a good teacher. And just because we've realized that we need some new methods of teaching doesn't mean the old ones never worked.
The article uses history classes as examples several times, and the subject seems to present an unusually thorny issue for educators. I think much of the problem comes from teachers and schools not wanting to appear to be pushing an agenda. The examples Wiggins and McTighe give of how to be a better history teacher would have to be followed very carefully, with lots of emphasis on the students forming their own conclusions, or run the risk of biasing the lesson. I'm not for censoring teachers, really (the teacher I describe below definitely had an agenda, even if it was mostly just to poke fun at any historical personage who took his or her own ideology too seriously), but there's enough of a battle going to keep creationism out of science classrooms that I don't fancy giving prejudiced or highly religious teachers an open license to revise history. We have required curricula for a reason. We just need to figure out a better way to teach them.
More than once, the article references the history class scene from Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I only vaguely remember the film (despite having seen it about fifteen times--why did all my high school teachers think that was the one movie they should show the day before Christmas or after AP exams? Did they think it made them seem edgy to show a movie about skipping school?), but I get the reference: monotone teacher drones on and on, answering his own questions.
Weirdly enough, I had a history teacher like that, but he was anything but dull. He was such an odd man (he'd come back from Vietnam a bit shell-shocked, looked like a cross between between Lurch from The Addams Family and Henry Blake on M*A*S*H, and was known for spending any time he wasn't teaching napping in his hard wooden desk chair), and his teaching method--a detailed outline of the day's material on the board, with blanks where names, dates, and figures would be filled in as he lectured--was so clever (the need to know what went into the blanks was irresistible), nobody ever zoned out in his class. He'd been using the same outlines and the same exams for decades. When the Emperor of Japan died in 1989, he simply crossed out 'Hirohito' and wrote in 'Akihito' on the typescript of the test (I hope nobody got that question wrong)... and was still handing it out with the Scantron sheets in 2001. He rarely asked questions of the class, and when he did they were more or less rhetorical. But it worked. He told stories as he lectured, some of them about his own (absurdly-exciting-for-a-suburban-teacher) life, some quirky, non-textbook side notes to the historical data (I distinctly remember him raising his eyebrows and making a crack about the dubious paternity of Genghis Khan's oldest child), and some that I'm pretty sure were just made up. It was riveting. And by being so clearly fascinated with his subject, and so unapologetically confident that it was of utmost importance to living in the real world, he made us believe it too.
I'm not sure how to address the issue of "transfer" with Mr. Gillespie's classes--the teaching and testing were at first glance exactly what Wiggins and McTighe take issue with. But there's something to be said for being able to capture the unwavering attention of a two dozen fifteen-year-olds for an hour a day, five days a week, nine months a year. In some cases, really good, retention-building teaching is just about being a good teacher. And just because we've realized that we need some new methods of teaching doesn't mean the old ones never worked.
29 January 2012
Week 3: Reading Reflection
This article caught my eye because it seemed like something that would be assigned for SI 500. It draws some interesting--if well-traveled--parallels between the current tech/data boom and other historical events like the invention of printing. It also suggests that many of the perceived problems with contemporary information practices are defined and exaggerated by those in the information profession, and asserts a need to verify the existence and importance of these problems before mounting efforts to repair them. I do not like the accusatory tone the article takes on this point, but I agree that in some cases we may tend to spot problems that are only momentary and will be resolved by the simple fact that humans are adaptable creatures. The authors seem to agree with this, tracing problems of information overload from antiquity through the present, not as an escalating problem but as an ongoing and ever-changing constant.
Buschman, John. "Information Literacy, 'New' Literacies, and Literacy." The Library Quarterly, Vol. 79, No. 1 (January 2009), pp. 95-118.
This article takes a look at shifting approaches to information literacy among the academic community. In particular, this includes the exposure of privileged, academic forms of literacy and attention to emerging and marginalized texts and readers. There is also a strong emphasis on distancing the connotation of "information literacy" from what Buschman sees as the historic form--the actual ability to read text. I think this is a smart move, especially since both the old-fashioned and the new-fangled forms of literacy are facing plenty of problems right now. And the fact that a distressing number of Americans can't read at all is a separate problem from the fact that some other Americans can't successfully navigate a web search. By separating the two, there is a better chance that real problems can be isolated and addressed.
This article takes a look at shifting approaches to information literacy among the academic community. In particular, this includes the exposure of privileged, academic forms of literacy and attention to emerging and marginalized texts and readers. There is also a strong emphasis on distancing the connotation of "information literacy" from what Buschman sees as the historic form--the actual ability to read text. I think this is a smart move, especially since both the old-fashioned and the new-fangled forms of literacy are facing plenty of problems right now. And the fact that a distressing number of Americans can't read at all is a separate problem from the fact that some other Americans can't successfully navigate a web search. By separating the two, there is a better chance that real problems can be isolated and addressed.
Lorenzo, George, and Charles Dziuban. "Ensuring the Net Generation is Net Savvy." ELI PAPER 2: 2006. September 2006.
This paper is basically an explication of challenges in information literacy faced by people--namely college students--who are so accustomed to having web access that they don't think about how they make use of it. Most of it is familiar, and it's the sort of topic that gets thrown around at SI on a daily basis, but it's nice to have it all laid out in one place. Some of the ideas in the article definitely show the wear and tear of six years, but most of it seems relevant to the current situation.
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