Writing on the Wall

During my time at UMD, I have been engaged in a constant battle to find a quiet place to study during those periods of time between work and class. I started out in the graduate study room in McKeldin Library, but it was not long before hoards of students began choosing that place to study as well. Now, I’m relatively good at tuning out certain noises. However, when people are talking to one another, I find it incredibly difficult not to eavesdrop. I get drawn in, more intent on listening to what is being said than on reading an article for class. In any case, it was not long before I had to move. Occasionally I could find a quiet spot elsewhere in the library, but more often than not, the constant traffic and conversations of passerby broke my concentration. So, I started studying in the English Graduate Lounge in Tawes. Similar problems occurred, though there was a fair share of quiet times, and I still go there on occasion. But right down the hall, I found a relatively quiet corner (unless TA’s were having conferences). I began going there on occasion in order to get both quiet (for the most part) and privacy (you can hide quite well behind the one wall, leaving only your feet and legs visible to people in the hallway). In any case, I was content.

Corner of Tawes

Eventually, I started to notice writing on the wall.

Writing on the Wall

First, this appeared:

Last Lost

After a quick Google search, I found out that these two lines are lyrics from a song entitled “The Last Lost Continent” by La Dispute. The song can be found here.

Another day, I found this:


These lines are lyrics from a song entitled “Tilde” by the band Touché Amore.

And later, I discovered these:


These lines are also from a La Dispute song entitled “Nine.”

Summer Love

These words, though communicating a familiar sentiment—summer love, did not bring up any definitive results on Google. Perhaps the inscriber decided to try his or her hand at composing lines.

Some of the handwriting looks similar and the fact that two of the lines come from La Dispute and three of the four are song lyrics seems to indicate that it may be the work of the same person, though I never discovered who the other person or persons were who also found that spot a good place to study or take a break. Perhaps it was just a student who would often meet with one of the TA’s in a nearby office, or maybe it was a TA seeking a bit of distance from his/her other office mates. In any case, it was interesting for me to read these little lines inscribed on the wall by a stranger who had perhaps found the same semi-quiet privacy that made the corner such a good place for me to go and study between work and class. By leaving my own kind of writing on the wall through my QR code that links to this blog post, I will make my own mark, continuing the story of that corner of Tawes.

QR Code

QR Writing on the Wall


When I Heard the Learn’d Digital Humanist

I decided to visit Walt Whitman’s birthplace, located in Huntington Station, NY, for several reasons. I’ve been meaning to visit the house for a long time, even though it lies only 10 or so miles from my parents’ house. I also attempted to teach a few Whitman poems earlier this semester. In the past I would drive by the site all the time, frequent the nearby Walt Whitman Mall, and was aware of Long Islanders’ pride in their favorite poet’s origins. I suppose next I’m supposed to visit the home of Billy Joel, from a town known as Oyster Bay, Long Island.


I took a tour of the grounds and the house itself, where Walt Whitman Sr. practiced carpentry. I walked through the parlor, kitchen, master bedroom, spare bedroom, and servant’s quarters. As you can imagine, everything looks very old, and it would have been quite easy to hit my head on the low ceiling going up the steps. The Whitmans owned a host of useful tools that are no longer necessary anymore, such as a giant loom, bed rope stretcher stick (can’t remember what it is actually called, but apparently this is where the saying “sleep tight” comes from), and even a hoop and stick.


My visit to Walt Whitman’s birthplace was quite enjoyable. Many thanks to my father for joining me on his busy Sunday afternoon.




20130324_163435 QRCode_02Yib

Note: I could not secure a more significant spot to place the QR Code, such as the statue, the house, ect., as I was being watched by the tour guide and did not want to get kicked out for vandalism. So the grass would have to do. For some reason the picture does not work when I try to scan it with my phone (bad resolution?), so I also included the original code file.

Adventures in respectful vandalism

I had a bit of trouble at first in selecting a place to vandalize with which to interact.  The locations to which I have strong connections are for the most part 1) In a different state, 2) On campus, or 3) My apartment.  A lengthy road trip was out of the question, the Tawes building (for all its charms) lacks a certain something, and the only evidence for other people interacting with my apartment was the vehicle registration card that was left here by a previous tenant and which I, sadly, threw away when I found it on the top shelf in the kitchen.  As I contemplated these considerations, I determined that it would be quite absurd if — here of all places — I couldn’t think of a sufficiently memorialized spot.  However, I also did not want to get arrested.  Thus I settled on a location of moderate fame:  the George Mason Memorial.  I discovered it by walking into it during a ramble around the tidal basin last year; I feel rather fondly toward it, mostly because it seems so easy to neglect or to pass by.

George Mason Memorial name George Mason Memorial from a distance


This is supposed to be a fountain in front of the memorial, but it has no water.  I think it looks like a great spot for some theatre-in-the-round.

Instead of a traditional blog post, I put a monologue in my QR code.  I wanted to do something respectful (since this is, after all, very public property with which to attempt interaction), brief, and that didn’t immediately indicate my real name.  I made a minute-long movie using xtranormal, for which I selected an animated character who could (with some generosity of the imagination) represent me.  The link to which I attached my QR code sends the viewer to my video as published on YouTube, here:  http://youtu.be/ARsatTfZEvY.  The video can also be played on xtranormal.com here:  http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/14303672/why-i-love-the-george-mason-memorial , but I thought it best to use the YouTube link since more people are likely to be familiar with it and to have phone apps for it.  The movie itself is a little excessively cheerful, but I hoped that this might serve as a defense against the potential annoyance of serious-minded visitors to the memorial!


(I took some pictures and tried to look like an innocent tourist while I was waiting for my opportunity to pounce with tape.)

The statue of Mr. Mason was created by sculptor Wendy Ross.  More info about her work (including the memorial) can be found at her website, here:  http://www.rosssculpturestudio.com/.  I taped my code to the back of one of the pillars.  The way you see it is by sitting on the bench with George and sidling all the way back so that you are leaning on the back of the bench and (unless you are, like him, nine feet tall) your feet are dangling merrily straight out in front of you in the posture of a five-year-old on any adult’s furniture.  Judging by the number of people I saw climb up there while I was waiting for a witness-free moment to do the deed, I’m not the only one to feel that this is a desirable spot in which to sit (though few may scoot far enough back to spot my code).



These two photos were taken from the same spot; looking to the right, one sees my code on a pillar; turning to the left, one sees George.

After I finished (and ascertained that I had avoided arrest), I paid a visit to my other favorite statue in D.C. and bought a Rosie the Riveter lunchbox.  All in all, not a bad day!

George Mason Memorial with QR codeCIMG2349

QR-oss Mansion

After my first idea for this exercise went bust, I began ruminating on alternative sites in my Delaware hometown to photograph. I trolled around the town’s website to see if anything popped up (these sorts of things recede into the background of everyday existence, don’t they?), and lo and behold, I had passed the perfect place on my way to photograph my failed first attempt! Presenting… The Historic Ross Mansion!

IMG_3938I passed by this property every day my senior year of high school – it lies on a back way into town, right across from a set of railroad tracks that are still used daily by trains bearing coal and grain to power plants and mills throughout Sussex County. On clear nights at my parents’ house I can hear the eerie sound of a midnight train whistle across the mile or so expanse – my high school best friend lives right next to the tracks, and I’ve always wondered how she sleeps through it each night.

IMG_3925As you can read on the historic marker above, the Ross Mansion (nobody includes “Governor”) dates back to the mid-nineteenth century, its architecture clearly revealing its Victorian origins. The sign, a historic artifact in itself, fails to include reference to the two newest additions to the property – a slave quarters discovered in the early nineties and a honeymoon cottage/gatehouse.

IMG_3944I dug around a little and found this University of Delaware article from 1992 about the discovery of the Ross Mansion slave quarters. I remember hearing the story from my parents (though I must have been only 5 or so), about how they found this building in the backwoods of the Ross Mansion property and discovered what it truly was. At the time it was the only known slave quarters in the entire state. Now it has been restored and relocated to a new location right behind the mansion.

IMG_3927A little while after the addition of the slave quarters to the grounds, this little structure appeared at the entrance of the property. My parents both told me that this was another woods find, a honeymoon cottage discovered in the foresty depths of the land; however, when I sought to verify their story, I uncovered two others! Multiple sites refer to the structure as a “gatehouse” – possibly referring to its current function (?), while others corroborate the honeymoon cottage designation, although origination stories differ here: some sources (like the county realtor’s association) say that the cottage was built for the Governor’s son, whereas the historical society, which manages the property, says on their site: “Explore a ‘Honeymoon Cottage’ bought from a catalog and located on the property.” Now, I have no idea what that even means, and it just sounds ridiculous, so despite their prestigious title, I’m choosing to ignore such claims. You can decide for yourselves – mail-order or vintage handmade?

Many non-historic buildings have begun to surround the Ross Mansion property in recent years – most prominently the newly relocated local library and a sports complex. What’s interesting, though, is the fact that the city council mandated that the architecture of both sites must reflect the grand old mistress of the adjoining property (i.e. the Mansion). See for yourself:

Southwest face of the mansion


Above center is the southwest side of the mansion, above left shows the arched windows of the library, while above right is a pressbox with exposed support beams. My dad pointed all of this out to me – I was totally unaware of how the “story” of the architecture of the Ross Mansion had spread to other surrounding facades. And still, the story of the Ross Mansion property is not limited to local lore (where did that cottage come from??) or architectural style – it’s still being unfolded, actually. In the annual Easter egg hunt, the Town and Country Fairs (complete with fireworks, craft stalls, and a full-blown reenactment with cannons – pardon the pun), and the occasional professional engagement photo shoot performed by a boy-now-man that I used to HATE sitting next to in fifth grade, the story of Ross Mansion is one that’s still being told in many voices.


Special thanks to my dad for driving & sharing his own stories. And Sadie, for moral support.


Blast Furnace Phoenix: The Death and Life of Bethlehem Steel

Blast furnace at Bethlehem Steel--Library of Congress, compiled 1968 by the Historic American Engineering Record

Blast furnace at Bethlehem Steel–Library of Congress, compiled 1968 by the Historic American Engineering Record

Since its beginnings in 1861, Bethlehem Steel was an industry giant.  If you’ve ever driven over a bridge, you’ve driven over Bethlehem steel–the company supplied material for the Golden Gate Bridge, the George Washington bridge, and countless other transportation projects.  Bethlehem steel was used in the Chrysler Building and Rockefeller Center in New York City.  It was used in cannons and naval guns for World War II.  It was the bulwark of employment for the Lehigh Valley.

I never knew it as such.

For me, Bethlehem Steel was the depressing figure represented in Billy Joel’s song “Allentown” (which was actually about Bethlehem, but Allentown is easier to rhyme).  It meant job layoffs and run-down buildings that reinforced my perception of the South Side as the “bad” part of town.  Reading the paper, the only stories about Bethlehem Steel were stories of woe: looming bankruptcy and broken promises in regards to pensions.  In 1995, when I was in 8th grade, the company ceased operations in Bethlehem.

Broken out windows on old steel site

Broken out windows on old steel site

This left the buildings sitting around rusting like an urban graveyard.  It was clear that any revitalization of the South Side needed to address the land and buildings left from the company, striking a balance between recognizing their historical importance and giving the city the new jobs it needed as it remodeled itself on a tourist-driven economy.  There were rumors that the Smithsonian was going to come and create a Museum of Industrial History, but the process was so slow-moving I didn’t believe they were actually true (Googling, it turns out the site is still under construction).  The Johnson Machine shop, which I remembered as warehouses with broken windows, was transformed into condominiums, a fitness center, and a restaurant in 2006.  In 2007, the main site was controversially sold to the Sands corporation to build a casino, hotel, and shopping center; plans for the hotel and shopping center were delayed due to the recession, but the casino construction went ahead using an industrial theme.

Sands Casino

Sands Casino

The blast furnaces themselves were such a unique architectural feature that the city decided to preserve them–especially when they attracted Michael Bay’s notice, who used the site as the set for a fictional Chinese city in the movie Transformers 2.

Steel set for Transformers 2

Steel set for Transformers 2–from Transformers Live Action Movie Blog

The furnaces then became tied to the city’s other great passion: the arts.  Since 1984, ArtsQuest has promoted the arts in Bethlehem primarily through Musikfest, a free (except for the “big name” groups) concert festival, and then through the Banana Factory, a community arts and education center a short distance away on the South Side.  When the steel site became available, they seized the opportunity to take their mission even further, creating an arts and cultural center dubbed the “SteelStacks”.  With artistic lighting, the blast furnaces create a stunning backdrop to the indoor and outdoor concert spaces that SteelStacks offers along with its cinema and farmer’s market.  The organization is very careful about offering a balance of ticketed events to ensure that they support themselves with free events to allow all citizens access to the arts.  I’ve been very excited to see the ways they’ve partnered with the schools to allow students to have “real” performances and exhibitions (especially since the neighboring Allentown School District is threatening to eliminate the arts from their schools due to budget cuts).  All in all, I’m proud to see my hometown honor its past while looking to the future.

Levitt Pavilion opening--from http://www.culturalweekly.com/liz-levitt-music-americ.html

Levitt Pavilion opening–from http://www.culturalweekly.com/liz-levitt-music-americ.html

Blast furnace, meet QR code

Blast furnace, meet QR code

In Response to Farman

Borges map quote

Quoted from Jorge Luis Borges

A map is only useful as a representation, which necessarily involves a distortion of reality. Google Earth threatens this idea by purporting to represent reality with a new degree of accuracy and comprehensiveness, and yet we cannot escape the old problems. Instead, these problems are magnified through the illusion of objectivity and accuracy which Google Earth promises to deliver.

Issues of supposed interactivity and user-based generated content complicate this issue, but as Farman admits, these tools, allowing for a new degree of freedom, are also controlled and regulated by Google. Not only this, but even the choices made by individuals reflect ideologically and politically-based biases, so even if democratizing the creation of maps eliminates or at least mitigates the centrality of power for the mapmaker, it could never eliminate the inherent subjectivity of mapmaking itself.

Instead, by attempting to create such a map of perfection, Google Earth’s supposed potential for subversion is even more dangerous than the old, less accurate maps. Maps continue to create boundaries, rather than represent them, but with an even greater degree of power and influence due to the illusion of objectivity within Google Earth.

This is a postmodern issue because here the distribution of power is not one-sided (as in a user watching a TV), and neither is the direction reversed (the TV is watching you), but now neither the source of power nor its direction is clear. Agency is no longer known or definite. For Farman, this is a positive thing, but if we wish to continue this postmodern critique (which I believe I have been lifting from Jameson, but I can’t be sure), we could argue that by using technology in order to extend the potential of maps to their absolute limit, Google Earth is even more deceptive than traditional maps. The more a representation resembles its original, the easier the viewer is fooled by its supposed authenticity. Google Earth takes this logic and adds with it the possibility of collaboration and interactivity, thereby ensuring that with this controlled potential for subversion, the user will be even more fooled by its illusion of objectivity. At this point, Foucault’s panopticon no longer bears any relevance, as the source and directionality of agency is lost or obscured, legitimizing Google Earth even further.

This is a pessimistic view of the function of Google Earth, but it fits into the Jameson and Baudrillard postmodern critique to which Farman alludes. Instead, he arrives at a more positive view of the functionality of Google Earth, recognizing its limitations but nonetheless embracing the certain degree of subversion somehow allowed by its creators. While I would like to agree with Farman, who begins to recognize these issues but doesn’t quite see them through, it would be foolish to ignore how easily Google Earth fits into this critique.

A Personal Odyssey

So I tried doing going to do something different for this assignment and I hope that’s all right. My plan was to map three places at once, all of which have unique significance to different people in different ways, but which don’t usually go marked or shared. I was going to place my QR code in a book–The Odyssey by Homer, to be precise–but, as you who are seeing it just now must be aware, that didn’t happen. Our class assignment was to place our code somewhere of significance where others might see, and I argue that this is such a spot–even if the passers-by may be fewer and further between and the significance is not one clear reason. (To anyone who may have stumbled across this little “bookmark,” so to speak, I’m quite thrilled to meet you, it is a pleasure, and please do leave a comment!)

This place, this book, this particular passage (I had intended to mark) is a place of great significance and, for me, it has a story, for it is where I became an English major.

The scene of the crime, so to speak, where I discovered where I was an was not meant to be.

The scene of the crime, so to speak, where I discovered where I was an was not meant to be.

All who have had class with me know of my affection for Holmes and Dracula, but Odysseus was my first love and–ironically enough–my reason for becoming an Archaeology major, as well. I was determined to find Odysseus’ lost palace on Ithaca. But, time after time and paper after paper in my Archaeology courses, I wrote not about the distinguishing features of the palace, which might allow the determined scholar to find it, but of Odysseus, the man and hero.

And so I found myself, in this library, chasing down yet another translation to compare in an effort to prove how Odysseus and Penelope represent the ideal of marriage–I realized I was a dreadful Archaeologist.  Dreadful might even be too kind of a term.

On the positive side, chasing texts down on the shelves is far safer than running from giant boulders and punching Nazis.  Though, I will have to try to remember our lessons on how to grab your hat as you side through closing doorways--I feel that might come in useful at some point.

On the positive side, chasing texts down on the shelves is far safer than running from giant boulders and punching Nazis. Though, I will have to try to remember our lessons on how to grab your hat as you side through closing doorways–I feel that might come in useful at some point.

I returned to college–on the verge of being too late in my undergraduate career for such a discovery–a beaten woman and confessed my terrible sin to my kindly advisor. Quite alarmingly–as I sat there, wiping the distressed tears from my cheeks–he leapt from his chair, ran from the office, and pounded on the other professor’s doors with the cry of, “You owe me $40!”

It soon became apparent that there had been a sort of betting pool in the Classics Department to see when I would discover my mistake–one they had all realized within my first weeks in their courses, but which they were too polite to make mention of.  They knew, as now do I, that being told you aren’t right for the job isn’t quite the same as suddenly realizing where you belong. Given the choice, it is far better to experience the latter.

So, this is where I belong.  Don’t misunderstand–I’d still love to see Odysseus’ palace discovered someday (perhaps, you, whoever you are who found my code, if you are looking for something to do, can find it for me?) and it would be nice if my Homeric and Attic Greek and Latin didn’t go to waste–but, really, this is where I belong. Here, in a library, buried in a book, rather like my QR code. I hope everyone finds their place too–especially if it puts another place on the map: Odysseus’ palace.


A post-it note really works quite well for this sort of thing.  Goodbye QR code!  Let me know how life treat you!

A post-it note really works quite well for this sort of thing. Goodbye QR code! Let me know how life treat you!

But, please, before you go, my dear reader, would you do me one last favor?  You’ve been so kind to listen to me all this time, but there is something I must ask of you: If it’s there, The Odyssey by Homer, could you move this little bookmark into it?  I won’t ask you to find the right page, that would be too much, but perhaps you could just move it over?  Thank you!  You see, upon arriving to place my code in the book I found my fears realized–no book!  All the copies remained out in the world having adventures of their own and, I hope, inspiring others. What’s a girl to do? So I did the most sensible thing I could: I plucked the best copy of criticism on The Odyssey from the shelves (the one you now hold) and tucked my code in between an article on homecomings and Penelope as wife and partner. That feels quite proper to me. Perhaps not ideal, but quite proper all things considered.

Oh, and what of the passage? For you, who has the book near at hand, it’s right there–no, no, not there, a little further in, now up a bit… yes, there you are. It’s the passage where Odysseus, barely alive and naked, implores the white-armed Nausicaa and her handmaiden’s for aid.  Our–or mine, at least–hero, that noble philanderer (though, pray, let us forgive him for the moment)–appeals to them as a husband who misses his wife and home:

For nothing is greater or finer than this,

When a man and a woman live together

With one heart and mind, bringing joy

To their friends and grief to their foes.

I love that line. It is precisely what Penelope and Odysseus do–even hundreds of miles away from each other and years apart–they live their lives together, as one unit of one mind and one heart, using their clever, quick wits to the defeat of their enemies and for the pleasure of their friends.  And I strongly suggest you find Stanley Lombardo’s translation, which captures the essencial meaning of the Greek and the sound and rhythm of the language.  If you were just flipping through the book when you found my code, I hope I’ll have convinced you to read the Odyssey after all and if you haven’t read it, I hope my post will act as a map and help you to find it.

P.S. When did they install this thing and, really, a celebration of Pi?

It's dedicated to Pi.  I really hope it opened on 3/14.  And there we have it; I ended up documenting a monument of significance rather than my book after all.

It’s dedicated to Pi. I really hope it opened on 3/14. And there we have it; I ended up documenting a monument of significance rather than my book after all.

Bentham on Endian-ness

So, I had a devil of a time finding a page that looked remotely legible that hadn’t already been done by someone else. At first, I looked for something on the topic of “popery” which seemed quite timely, but I failed to locate any pages that looked manageable.  So in the end, I resorted to choosing JB/072/185/001, which looked to be a very nice and legible (and short) page, which I thought would be a good way to get started.  The one tricky bit — and I suspect the reason someone else hadn’t yet tackled it — is that it is written mostly in Latin.  Unfortunately, the page hasn’t proved to be as uniformly legible as I first thought, so I haven’t managed to decipher it all.  For now, I can report that it makes reference to Swift’s story of the battle between the Little-endians and the Big-endians (those who crack their eggs on the little or big ends, respectively).  Beyond that, there remain too many illegible words for me to put it all together just yet.  Stay tuned, and I will update this post when I have finished it!

What We Talk About When We Talk About “Archives”

As Kenneth Price affirms, “current terms describing digital scholarship both clarify and obscure our collective enterprise.” When we talk about the term “archive” we have to define in which context and for what practices. Also, we have to talk about many important terms and definitions for a digital theory, but primarily we are left with a series of questions related to those terms and definitions, as preservation, memory, database, code, as well as the practices of edition, reading and writing in a digital environment. The archive is at the heart of the question of the digital scholarship specificities, yet it is still difficult to define it or (re)name it.

What is an archive? What is in that name? Does it reflect the (new, current) practices associated to the digital scholarship?

Can we use the same terms for digital scholarship until they begin to convey a broader meaning? Or is it better to create new terms? And eventually, how terms are created?

Taking into account our readings (Kenneth Price, Kate Theimer, Vannebar Bush, Susan Schreibman and Wendy Chun), I would like to propose a series of questions associated with the term “archive”:

Can we think of

digital archive/ Thematic Research Collection/ arsenal

Memex (as a precursor or not of Internet)

memory (digital memory)

digital objects / born digital

as an “archive” or a medium to create one?

What are the specificities of the digital archives and digital objects?

Which term would you create for “archive” in DH?

Spice & Labour


I had a blast encoding JB/107/110/02, a sheet of paper divided into four columns of fairly readable handwriting that described a series of recipes. While finding a document that had not yet been transcribed was a fairly long and frustrating process, the actual encoding was quite fun once I established a rhythm. The tutorials and tool bars don’t mire the user in the details of the markup language, but enable the transcriber to figure it out as they go. The ability to see and edit changes quickly allowed for somewhat low-stakes trial and error learning.

This exercise reminded me a lot of my high school programming class. It was lovely to be able to “deform” the text of the document and experiment with the logic of the language. There is also something perversely satisfying to me about writing detailed comments explaining my choices. It’s like writing notes in the margin of a library book–someone else is going to see them.

By the end of the exercise I was able to recognize semantic chunks of markup and get a feel for its rules. However the document itself provided some interesting challenges because of how the page is arranged. Here are a few of my favorite examples.


There were many places, like this one, in which a small horizontal line divided the ingredients from the “Labour” of the recipe. There were also a ton of numbers, fractions, and what I took to be the small letter ‘d’ to one side of the words. Sometimes these numbers were accompanied by units of measurement, sometimes not. While this 1/2 over 2 1/2 first appeared to me to be a complex fraction, I realized that it was a break in the page that there was no accurate way to represent. First I had to figure out how to represent fractions [put the numerator in superscript, then / and the denominator]. Then I had to mess around until I realized that no matter what I couldn’t quite format it to look like the page itself. Some fun things happened.

First this, my attempt to underline superscript. [It's wrong, there's too many </hi>'s, but I got it to work eventually. Just using superscript and / looks much prettier than trying to underline it.]





Then this blue box showed up around my fraction! Don’t know what it meant, but I got it to go away.

Because the page was divided into narrow columns of script, I managed to reproduce the text but could not represent the vertical lines that separate it out. That kind of page division is accomplished by a page break, according to the transcription guidelines, so I felt compelled to specify in my comments whether it was a horizontal or vertical page break. For documents like this it would be useful to be able to insert some kind of simplified graphic representation of say, a vertical line, in order to get a sense of the space of the page itself.

I enjoyed encoding the recipes because I got to encounter a particularly everyday document. The list-like nature of it means that punctuation and abbreviation are not always standardized, yet we could ostensibly still follow the recipe today. It felt downright practical, allowing me to get a snapshot of how people were planning and preparing meals. Furthermore, seeing different versions of the text in multiples windows allows for a poetic kind of reading, as certain words could be juxtaposed or read as single phrases, i.e. “spice & labour.”**

**When I put this phrase into the title for this post, WordPress automatically changed it to “Spice &amp; Labour.” Fun.