I am finally finishing the post-trip craziness. This means that I will soon be able to actually blog the HT05 conference.

I am also finally digging into my research wholeheartedly. This semester promises to be very instructive. I'm finishing my honors thesis on mid-19th century Philadelphia's ethnic experience. But I'm also conducting a directed study in the philosophy of science.

My first book? Models and Metaphors, by Max Black.

Wow. Anyone intending to do anything on the Semantic Web must read this book. Black was a specialist in the philosophy of mathematics, and this analysis of language/philosophy identifies and begins to address most of the toughest questions facing the Semantic Web today.

Sure, it's a tough read. I wouldn't suggest it for after-dinner lounging in the sofa with a glass of your favorite beverage. But it's worth the effort.

A more thorough analysis should follow in the next week or so. But here's a preview:

One of the hardest questions faced by Semantic Web architects is very simple: what is a meaning? Here's what black says:

Here, we see the basic difficulties of designing a system which can automate the handling of ontologies.

This is going to be a very profitable study. I'm really excited. I get to think about fundamental issues, dig into some philosophy/linguistics, and generally poke around lots of interesting topics. I'm going to be writing a series of small papers to help me learn the literature; these papers will probably appear on the blog.

But speaking about something concerned with linguistic philosophy and science, check out this: a new framework which describes trigonometry without sines, cosines, or tangents

(chapter excerpt).

The yellow sun spilled over the greening trees.

Lilly petals.

Smooth breezes.

A butterfly forages among the bluegrass.

Lift soft wings gently,

stroke, tap colorful shrub clusters.

Smooth. Clear. Bright.

These are two of my greatest wishes:

• to have the humility to accept and admit how small I really am.
• to have the grace of God to improve.

It is sometimes easy to focus on effort and forget God until I make the next mistake. This is the first mistake.

It is humbling to have hope and mercy so often offered by One so truly Great.

Alfred Reed, one of the greatest American composers of the 20th century, died two days ago at the age of 84.

His music provides much of the foundational staple of Concert Band and Wind Symphony repertoire. Millions have played and love his pieces.

This semester, our symphonic band will be playing his marvelous work, Armenian Dances. (mp3 via the site of the marvelous Austin Civic Wind Ensemble).

Thanks, Alfred. We'll miss you.

What happens to youth?

I look around me and see people with bright futures and promising ideals. These people are rare, but they're not that rare. And then I look at the world around me, at the older generations. I see fewer people actually living these ideals. Young idealists are rare, but role models are even more scarce.

No movers and shakers, are we the dreamers of hopeless dreams, doomed to dwell a future of desolate streams?

I talk with people, and I hear great enthusiasm and hope for our generation's youth. And yet those who merely hope were also young once...

Sigh. I think that the greatest error of my generation is the vice of personal fulfillment. Everyone is so busy bickering over the top items in Maslow's hierarchy, that they forget the people that struggle beneath their feet to find clean water and healthy food. Most ideals in my generation are merely birdcalls. They signal social group membership but do little to really care for others. Everyone looks after their own desires before really caring for others. If it were otherwise, then we would se a lot more professionals volunteering and moving down South.

Instead, we all decide that the next rung on the treadmill is more important than the narratives in the magic boxes we call TV and Computer, narratives which themselves struggle to be noticed among the cacophony of advertisement.

I think this is what happens to youth. Talk is cheap. Money is cheap. But a life is a precious thing to spend. When spent for other lives, it is well spent. Is a life well spent if it fails to realize the full potential of skill-talent, yet realizes the full effectiveness of a life spent for others? Yes.

Mark is right. The blogosphere, the press, the academics, and the government are all talkers. The people with ideals, with great skills-- what do they do? Try to convince the masses to sully their hands with the grunt work. Enough talk. We need some action.

And me? For now, I continue to fill out the graduate school applications. After all, I want to realize the full potential of my talent, don't I? And after all, most people don't even think about these things. I write this stuff for others to read. I think, and brood. I'm young. I don't have to do stuff now. I'm in preparation mode right now. After all, I have a promising future. That makes me OK, right?

As I grow older, my respect for athletes of many sports has grown. Although the players of many team sports can often settle into the stereotype of "the jock," I have learned that these stereotypes are often false. Often, sports requiring high amounts of physical accomplishment both attract and influence participants toward discipline, methodical observation, and practiced effort.

Last year, I learned to respect the efforts of track/cross-country athletes, when I became more fully acquainted with Melissa St. Clair, one of my school's top athletes and top scholars.

Last night, I learned to respect the efforts of swimmers when I spent some time in the college's pool. In over three years at Elizabethtown, I had never gone to the pool. Indeed; I have not been swimming for eight or nine years. I was in for a surprise.

I could barely swim a single lap.

This was a large surprise, since I think little of an 8.5-hour bicycle ride. But upper body strength is a foreign concept to a cyclist, so I suppose it makes sense.

I have concluded the swimming is the best possible exercise for players of wind instruments. The water pressure on your torso forces the diaphragm to work much harder.

Jet lag is like the effect of a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster.

Only without the lemon.

Or the gold brick.

The conference is over, sadly.

A whole cascading heap o' stuff is going through my mind right now, but I can't blog it yet; I still need to email them my presentation. I'm tweaking it so it makes sense as a single unit. The presentation really requires the speech, since the presentation was really intended to be supplementary information to the speech-- my way of sneaking in 25 minutes of information into 20 minutes.

The rest of the presentation consisted of on-screen software demo work.

To alleviate the crazy inexplicable confusion which would probably be induced by my presentation, I'm reworking it for the conference DVD. I expect to email it upon arriving home tomorrow. *then* I can blog the conference.

Until then, read what Jill says about Clare's StorySpinner (I'm making an editing tool Tinderbox file for it).

I forgot to post this, but Weekend America's interview of the Harrisburg Area Bloggers (including moi) was posted online some time ago.

As I sit in the lobby of the Dorint Hotel (free Wireless, courtesy of the conference organizers), listening to Sinatra, I finally have a chance to reflect. The presentation is ready, and the portable sculpture has been assembled. The lineup of papers is very good, and I'm looking forward to a marvelous three days.

The social event on Thursday will be at the Museum der Moderne Salzburg. I can't wait!

(Thanks to the U.S. Air Force Band for the soundtrack, Copland's "Fanfare for the Common Man," which I heard the Julliard Symphony and the Royal Academy of Music Orchestras play in a combination concert at Royal Albert Hall)

So much has happened. But I can't tell it now. My T-Mobile Wireless connection is nearly about to finish, and I leave for Salzburg and HT05 in just a few hours. I need to get some sleep. I've been up at 5:15 AM every morning and gone to bed after midnight every time. Appointments, travel, visits, research, and thinking are all necessary and very time-sensitive right now as I try to make the most of my trip to England and Europe. I have been discussing graduate school ideas with quite a few people, and I have tried to maximize my efforts.

Right now, I'm at the Heathrow Sheraton, outside of London, and my England travels are all finished. Some photos are up on flickr.

Call me a geek, but my favorite experience during the trip has been the discovery of a monument to Hobson, the Cambridge University Carrier in the early 16th century.

We're off! I'm blogging this from the Newark International Airport. The flight leaves in an hour.

(the next day....)

I'm here. The airplane worked. Internet is spotty, so updates will probably also be spotty.

The minimalist travelogue, "European Transclusion," can now be found on this website.