I hurt myself on a pizza cutter last night—but not even on the blade? Somehow that last detail is absurd enough that I’m more upset about that than the injury itself.

I know Kirby Heyborne as the star of several Mormon B movies, so I was taken aback when he turned out to be the narrator for the audiobook of Cory Doctorow’s “Little Brother.” Weirdest Venn diagram overlap of my interests I’ve seen in a while.

One of my academic pet peeves is when people use the word rigor as a validating synonym for something else, like “quantitative” or “giving out lots of Cs.” Rigor is important, but narrow definitions aren’t useful.

If Elijah can make infinite flour and oil happen, demanding that the widow feed him first really comes off as a jerk move.

There’s a great John Finnemore sketch that involves a ridiculous number of nested stories, and I’m thinking of it as I approach the end of Frankenstein (a novel in the form of letters sent by a man recounting conversations with Frankenstein, who quotes other letters, etc.).

Pleased to see that page proofs I’m reviewing have preserved the emojis in quoted tweets. It’s frustrating for this social media researcher how many journal publication platforms do not support them.

I’m sure this is overthinking things, but I have a LOT of linguistic questions about Frankenstein.

The last time I read Frankenstein, I got a kick out of noticing all the Swiss connections. This time, I’m amusing myself by thinking of the title character as a hubristic tech bro.

Petite preuve que la technologie n’existe pas hors culture : Quand un site web américain n’acceptera pas un numéro de téléphone comme « valide » si les chiffres sont séparés par des points, comme j’ai pris l’habitude de faire. Faut des tirets, comme un vrai Étatsunisien.

First Gloomhaven session of 2023 yesterday. Tough scenario, and we might have lost either way, but my Leeroy Jenkinsing with a squishy Spellweaver certainly didn’t help.

Il faut une version de la chanson « Sacré Charlemagne » qui se plaint des responsabilités de la vie adulte.

Another Saturday, another bout with guilt and anxiety sparked by my general ignorance of home maintenance.

One of our newest family traditions is kiddo watching a Homestar Runner video during her bedtime snack while I do some dishes and see how many of the lines I still remember verbatim.

Tonight, I suddenly remembered my sister’s BYU roommate who insisted on calling ketchup and mustard “toppings” because saying “condiment” would require her to say “condom” along the way.

Ce matin, j’ai préparé du muësli fait-maison au lieu de faire des corrections, et je n’ai aucun sentiment de culpabilité.

The desire to “enhance” or “improve” learning is a noble one, but I’m increasingly convinced it gets too much attention—and distracts us from as (or more) important questions about education and technology.

I think one of the most endearing nerdy things about our marriage is how in our texts, we still use the Can Haz language from the meme culture of when we first met.

In the Canvas LMS main interface, it describes analytics reports as based on “near real-time data.” In documentation, it specifies that “near real-time” is “may be delayed by 40 hours.”

Canvas: “You can draw conclusions about student participation with our analytics!” Also Canvas: “Mobile page view data aren’t exact, and our analytics only update every 24 hours, so don’t draw too many conclusions, lol.”

Reading through the data available through Canvas analytics, I’m reminded of Catherine D’Ignazio and Lauren Klein’s argument (in their excellent book “Data Feminism”) that structured, “clean” data is most necessary for “strangers in the dataset.”

My tenure dossier has passed all the college-level steps, and I just finished reading the kind letter my dean wrote. Now off to the Provost’s office for months of waiting!

Is there any way to complete a CAPTCHA without providing free labor for ML/AI developers? Makes me angrier every time I have to do it.

One of kiddo’s library books right now is part comic and part choose your own adventure, all wrapped up in a solo TTRPG adventure. It’s a bit too old for her, but we’re both loving it.

Jon Sciezka and Julia Rothman’s “The Real Dada Mother Goose” is a real delight. It’s not often that kiddo checks out books that are homages to Dada, Oulipo, and other things I studied as a French major.

Une vraie amie, c’est celle qui visite Bruxelles en vacances, trouve par hasard une librairie avec plein de BD et t’envoie un message pour te demander quel album tu veux qu’elle apporte aux États-Unis pour toi.