Of Google and Metadata

No real time or inclination to update on my life (imagine reading, more reading, some swearing and sobbing...then back to the reading). It has been busy. There has not been much sleep. This may need to change, soon; then again, it may not.

Instead, I'm cross-posting an entry from my Cataloging class reading journal. Yes, it is poorly written and completely basic with no added insights and I hope and pray I'm not inadvertently web-plagiarizing anyone with my dribblings (I have links! See?). But these are some of The Things We Think About At Library School:

I've seen a lot of posts responding to and expanding upon Geoff Nunberg's "Google Books: A Metadata Train Wreck," and it seems like a complicated and rapidly evolving debate. Nunberg worries that the Google Books project represents the "Last Library" -- due to scanning costs and the sheer extent of the project, it's unlikely that other institutions will take it upon themselves to create their own online collection of books. Therefore, GB has a 'monopoly' over these materials, making errors in metadata far more damaging to research efforts now and in the future, since they won't have any other place to 'go' for their information.

Given these concerns, the following issues have been raised:

• What metadata standards should be used: Unlike libraries, GB doesn't seem to be following any unified standards, and the ones they have adopted are ill-suited to the scope and complexity of the collection (re: book industry BISAC classifications). Since consistency and standardization is an essential component for allowing for accurate search, this imperils the future of 'serious,' detailed research in favor of enabling, at best, a loose keyword or subject search through full text documents.
• Who should provide the metadata: Part of the blame, GB argues, rests on the metadata suppliers themselves, including libraries -- but Nunberg maintains that "a very large proportion of the errors are clearly Google's doing." In some cases, Google is forgoing existing metadata collections in favor of 'creating' their own by automatically extracting information from scanned pages -- a process that seems particularly error-prone.
• Who is ultimately responsible: What obligation does Google have to ensure consistent metadata for these materials? Is it enough to simply post them online and let users sift through the data themselves? Dan Clancy, Chief Engineer for the Google Books project, suggested that users themselves might fix some of these errors -- should they be expected to? And how could their accuracy be trusted?

And some of my own questions:

• Is there any possibility of a partnership with other organizations, such as libraries, in order to bring these materials under some form of centralized bibliographic control -- or is there simply too much data to handle? How can one even keep up with the proliferation of information online, particularly if the providing institutions won't slow down enough to integrate clear metadata practices into their operations?

At this point, there doesn't seem to be much incentive for GB to change their metadata practices; despite besides the protests of the research and library communities, Google isn't under any contractual obligation as a 'universal online library,' for instance. The current Google Books Settlement seems to be focused on fighting the 'monopoly' issue in the online scanning project, but I'm not sure how it could help with the problems of managing metadata for the materials GB has already scanned. There's also the possibility of 'competing' organizations and efforts like HathiTrust -- a consortium that I'd like to investigate further. I look forward to watching this debate and learning more, but it's already obvious that 'library' issues like standardizing metadata practices and determining user needs have applications far outside the limits of the library building itself.

**P.S. That last line is awful, no? Witness the effects of sleep deprivation. Also, I have tried twice now to get an application at Dining Services; each time, they have forgotten/said yes and then ignored me, presumably in the hopes that I would give up. I think I may oblige them.

Of Wands and Weariness

So my technology class professor vaguely resembles Hagrid. And then he made a Harry Potter reference later in the lecture, which was perfect (about how the 'magic' of the Internet is lost once you know the mechanics -- no more "swish and flick," kiddos!). He seems extremely knowledgeable, engaging, and understanding, which is great. Not so great: giving us a quiz at the start of the first class that revealed the full breadth and depth of my computer/programming ignorace. Crapmonkeys.

The cataloging class this morning was another instance of Great Professor, But Oh God Look At That Syllabus. I had several moments earlier in the day where I've been hyperventilating over the sheer amount of work to be done, filling my poor little calendar with assignments and presentations...and I still haven't absorbed the total weight of all the courses combined, yet.

And I refuse to, at this moment. It's Friday.

Now I need to rush to the library to return some books before closing time -- if a GSLIS student holds a book overdue, are they banished from the program?

To Recap Last Episode...

In the last several days, I have:

• gone to a sex toy party
• embarked on an epic quest to Louisa May Alcott's house (and only barely returned alive)
• hunted among the chaotic shelves of the BPL
• begun classes

Guess which was most terrifying?

Today was the class on publishing and librarianship, and I still cannot quite believe that it was...you know, class. Because we got to talk about books. And our professor has worked in the industry in Totally Important Positions, and she knows authors personally and is going on a book tour this fall (because guess what she's also a writer), and today she had all these inside stories and I am now apparently going to spend the semester working out how to republish Watership Down for the YA market in 2009.

asdasghjfk? Am I awake?

There is reading and research and the Terrifying Tech Class tomorrow, but for a first class experience, there are far worse ways to start one's graduate career.

Oh and P.S. there's going to be an open forum on the dining schenanigans later next week. I guess I wasn't the only one moved to compose an angry email.

Allow Me to Explain...

So, in perfect Murphy's Law fashion, soon after the dining complaint letter was dispatched, we GSLISers ventured into the hall once more, fueled with righteous indignation and ready for battle over the salad bar -- to find actual food waiting in the trays. And reasonable lines at the stations. And -- wonder of wonders! -- a full complement of ice cream cones sitting placidly next to the now-functioning machine. It's like the past few days were only a horrible nightmare...

And my Letter of Hanger (hunger-driven anger) looks a little bit wilted now. I've not yet received a response, but I'm not looking forward to it. Then again, I am being fed, so who cares?

I realize this has started the record on a negative note, but hopefully that isn't an omen. I will try to keep this from being a gripe-fest (because really, those get old fast) and stick to the facts as I find them. For instance, finding the waffle machine this morning was lovely. We became fast friends, and I forsee many cozy brunches in our future.

But enough of my love affair with breakfast. To begin officially --

This is the journal of a beginning library science graduate student, attempting to navigate the fraught pathways of higher academia and city life in the Northeast United States. As I was conducting my grad school search, I was frustrated at the lack of 'inside information' about what the programs were really like -- was the workload overwhelming? Could jobs be found? How was campus life? Any hidden cults?

Hence, this: One girl's story of Library School. Undoubtedly biased, sporadically updated, and of highly dubious informational value...but still here. Yet another resource twinkling into existence in the sparkling, crowded sky of the Internets.

At least until I decide to delete this.

First Rule of College Management = Feed Your Students

A copy of the dining complaint letter just sent (names thinly veiled to prevent outright scandal):

On Wednesday, September 3rd, I went to _____ Hall for dinner with a group of fellow graduate students from ____ Hall. Upon arriving, we were shocked and dismayed to discover that there was very little food available. The pizza station was empty, trays were scraped clean at the _______ Station, sparse spinach remained at the salad bar, and while there were still lunch meats sitting out at the deli counter, there was no bread. I joined one of the very long lines at the Grill station and a fellow student told me to write down my order and place it on the counter to be filled. There was only one chef at the station attempting to fill at least ten orders before me, and when I attempted to write down my selection, the pencil had been worn down too far to make any marks on the paper.

I abandoned this futile venture in favor of the salad bar, only to find that there were no forks left. The mugs ran out immediately after; although a friend had gotten one for me, it was basically a moot point, since the juice machine was not working, there was no coffee, and not even hot water to make tea. While I watched, the lemonade ran out at another machine. I had some cold water. When I returned to the pizza station, there was roughly a quarter of a pizza there, and I was quick to grab a slice, but since it was already cold I found it fairly unappetizing. To cap off a frustrating evening, the ice cream machine was depleted by the time my friends and I finished our meager salads and cold pizzas (one girl had managed to forage some rice and cauliflower).

According to the ___________ Dining website: "_____'s variety can be overwhelming, which is why we ask that students walk around to every station to make an educated menu decision. We encourage you to take one course at a time, returning later to different stations for additional courses." I did find myself visiting every station that night, but it was in a rushed race to scrape together enough for dinner; hardly a considered meditation over the wealth of dining choices.

I fully appreciate that you are managing the start of the semester transition, as well as adjusting to a revised dining program; when I spoke to one of the staff, they also indicated that there has been a significant increase in the student population on campus. I hope that you and your staff can take corrective action to address these issues and prevent the totally inadequate service that my friends and I experienced last night. I have paid for dining at ______ College, and if this state of affairs continues, I will respectfully request a refund for the equivalent cost of my remaining meals and points on the dining plan. I will happily forgo all meal privileges at _____ Hall and am confident in my ability to find equivalent or superior dining options off campus. I am currently paying for a service that is not being provided. This is completely unacceptable not only to myself but to the many other graduate students I have spoken with. I look forward to your reply, and hope to see this situation resolved to the mutual satisfaction of both parties.

Thank you for your attention,

Regards,
Hungry GSLISer