Par Ici

Wikipedia just turned 20!!!

[ID: Origami W,  a gift for wikipedia END ID]

[ID: Origami models of arabic numerals two and zero, symbolizing wiki’s 20th birthday END ID]

send thanks and love to wikipedians.>>>

have a looksie at the birthday celebrations(twas on 15th), and confetti are still around.>>>

[ID: gif of puzzle globe(wiki logo) bursting, metaphorically the burst of knowledge and joy wiki gives, a gif from the creative commons bday stash of wikipedia END ID]

“Wikipedia started as an ambitious idea

…to create a free encyclopedia, written by volunteers, for everyone in the world. It seemed impossible.

Over 20 years, Wikipedia has become the largest collection of open knowledge in history. How did it happen? People, like you.

Made and sustained by humans.

Meet the movement.”

[ID: Graph,WIkipedia: citability vs helpfulness of articles on academic timescale .helpfulness increases from elementary academia to graduate academia as wikipedia articles are stuffed with knowledge from archives and enthusiasts, but elitist academic institutions have created a situation wherein the citability of these articles drops down from elementary levels to graduate studies.  END ID]

graph is taken from this aptly named article, “time to stop wikipedia shaming”

It is as if the main theme of wikipedia “ is edited by everyone” is taken as a flaw. the fascist and elitist gate-keeping control is not more evident anywhere but when wikipedia is shamed. Articles are locked, users banned and multiple people editing it makes it much more reliable than papers and books written by bigoted academics and reviewed by bribed editors (case in point- Sigmund Froyd’s theory of female sexuality, cough cough)

It is “the best thing ever,” because “anyone in the world can write anything they want about any subject—so you know you are getting the best possible information.” - Michael Scott - The Office

This dialogue was used to identify Michael as an idiot, but it has the opposite effect, as this is truly the most beautiful missions of all time.

The thing about wikipedia is it is a macrogasmic entity of knowledge. Edits materialize at a rate of 1.8 per second. But perhaps more remarkable than Wikipedia's success is how little its reputation has changed. It was criticized as it rose, and it still is a matter of superiority complex in academic gate-keepers to state that Wikipedia is a blog and encyclopedias are more trustworthy etc etc, that wikipedia is not a source, and similar shaming tactics, when actually wikipedia is, in fact a tertiary SOURCE and, a more frequently updated encyclopedia.

Wiki is the only not-for-profit site in the top 10 most used sites , and one of only a handful in the top 100. It does not plaster itself with advertising(it could, but it doesn't, just to make it a comfortable and easily comprehensable resource), intrude on privacy, or provide a breeding ground for neo-Nazi trolling, and still broadcasts user-generated content. Unlike the other top social platforms , it makes its product de-personified, collaborative, and for the general good. More than an encyclopedia, Wikipedia has become a community, a library, a constitution, an experiment, a political manifesto—the closest thing there is to an online public square. It is one of the few remaining places that retains the faintly utopian glow of the early World Wide Web. A free encyclopedia encompassing the whole of human knowledge, written almost entirely by unpaid volunteers: Can you believe that was the one that worked?

Wikipedia is not perfect. The problems that it does have—and there are plenty of them—are discussed in great detail on Wikipedia itself, often in dedicated forums for self-critique with titles like “Why Wikipedia is not so great.” One contributor observes that “many of the articles are of poor quality.” Another worries that “consensus on Wikipedia may be a problematic form of knowledge production.” A third notes that “someone can just come and edit this very page and put in ‘pens are for cats only.’” Like the rest of the tech world, the site suffers from a gender imbalance; by recent estimates, 90 percent of its volunteer editors are men. Women and nonbinary contributors report frequent harassment from their fellow Wikipedians—trolling, doxing, hacking, death threats. The site's parent organization has repeatedly owned up to the situation and taken halting steps to redress it; several years ago, it allocated hundreds of thousands of dollars to a “community health initiative.” But in a way, the means to fix Wikipedia's shortcomings, in terms of both culture and coverage, are already in place: Witness the rise of feminist edit-athons.

The site's innovations have always been cultural as well as computational. It was created using existing technology. This remains the single most underestimated and misunderstood aspect of the project: its emotional architecture. Wikipedia is built on the personal interests and idiosyncrasies of its contributors; in fact, without getting gooey, you could even say it is built on LOVE. Editors' passions can drive the site deep into inconsequential territory—exhaustive detailing of dozens of different kinds of embroidery software, lists dedicated to bespectacled baseball players, a brief but moving biographical sketch of Khanzir, the only pig in Afghanistan. No knowledge is truly useless, but at its best, Wikipedia weds this ranging interest to the kind of pertinence where Larry David's “Pretty, pretty good!” is given as an example of rhetorical epizeuxis. It is one of the reminders, that the internet is a wonderful space.

In 2000, around a year before Jimmy Wales and Larry Sanger cofounded Wikipedia, the pair started a site called Nupedia, planning to source articles from noted scholars and put them through seven rounds of editorial oversight. But the site never got off the ground; after a year, there were fewer than two dozen entries. (Wales, who wrote one of them himself, told The New Yorker “it felt like homework.”) When Sanger got wind of a collaborative software tool called a wiki—from the Hawaiian wikiwiki, or “quickly”—he and Wales decided to set one up as a means of generating raw material for Nupedia. They assumed nothing good would come of it, but within a year Wikipedia had 20,000 articles. By the time Nupedia's servers went down a year later, the original site had become a husk, and the seed it carried had grown beyond any expectation.

Many similar sites have languished. They came up against a simple and apparently insoluble problem, the same one that Nupedia encountered and Wikipedia surmounted: Most "experts" do not want to contribute to a free online encyclopedia.

This barrier to entry exists even in places where there are many "experts" and large volumes of material to draw from. Napoleon Bonaparte, for instance, is the subject of tens of thousands of books. There are probably more dedicated historians of the Corsican general than of almost any other historical figure, but so far these scholars, even the retired or especially enthusiastic ones, have been disinclined to share their bounty. Citizendium's entry on Napoleon, around 5,000 words long and unedited for the past six years, is missing events as major as the decisive Battle of Borodino, which claimed 70,000 casualties, and the succession of Napoleon II. By contrast, Wikipedia's article on Napoleon sits at around 18,000 words long and runs to more than 350 sources.

The Wikipedia replacement products revealed another problem with the top-down model: With so few contributors, coverage was spotty and gaps were hard to fill. Scholarpedia's entry on neuroscience makes no mention of serotonin or the frontal lobes. At Citizendium, Sanger refused to recognize women's studies as a top-level category, describing the discipline as too “politically correct.” (Today, he says “it wasn't about women's studies in particular” but about “too much overlap with existing groups.”) A wiki with a more horizontal hierarchy, on the other hand, can self-correct. No matter how politically touchy or intellectually abstruse the topic, the crowd develops consensus. On the English-language Wikipedia, particularly controversial entries, like those on George W. Bush or Jesus Christ, have edit counts in the thousands.

Wikipedia, in other words, isn't raised up wholesale, like a barn; it's assembled grain by grain, like a termite mound. The smallness of the grains, and of the workers carrying them, makes the project's scale seem impossible. But it is exactly this incrementalism that puts immensity within reach.

The stars of Wikipedia are not giants in their fields but so-called WikiGnomes—editors who sweep up typos, arrange articles in neatly categorized piles, and scrub away vandalism. This work is often thankless, but it does not seem to be joyless. It is a common starting point for Wikipedians, and many are content to stay there. According to a 2016 paper in the journal Management Science, the median edit length on Wikipedia is just 37 characters, an effort that might take a few seconds.

From there, though, many volunteers are drawn deeper into the site's culture. They discuss their edits on Talk pages; they display their interests and abilities on User pages; some vie to reach the top of the edit-count leaderboard. An elect few become administrators; while around a quarter of a million people edit Wikipedia daily, only around 1,100 accounts have admin privileges. The site is deep and complex enough—by one count, its policy directives and suggestions run to more than 150,000 words—that its most committed adherents must become almost like lawyers, appealing to precedent and arguing their case. As with the law, there are different schools of interpretation; the two largest of these are deletionists and inclusionists. Deletionists favor quality over quantity, and notability over utility. Inclusionists are the opposite.

Most dedicated editors, whether deletionist or inclusionist, are that category of person who sits somewhere between expert and amateur: the enthusiast. Think of a railfan or a trainspotter. (Wikipedians disagree on which is the better term.) Their knowledge of trains is quite different from an engineer's or a railway historian's; you can't major in trainspotting or become credentialed as a railfan. But these people are a legitimate kind of expert nonetheless. Previously, their folk knowledge was reposited in online forums, radio shows, and specialist magazines. Wikipedia harnessed it for the first time. The entry on the famous locomotive the Flying Scotsman is 4,000 words long and includes eye-wateringly detailed information on its renumbering, series of owners, smoke deflectors, and restoration, from contributors who seem to have the most intimate, hard-won knowledge of the train's working. (“It was deemed that the A4 boiler had deteriorated into a worse state than the spare due to the higher operating pressures the locomotive had experienced following the up-rating of the locomotive to 250 psi.”)

Pedantry this powerful is itself a kind of engine, and it is fueled by an enthusiasm that verges on love. Many early critiques of computer-assisted reference works feared a vital human quality would be stripped out in favor of bland fact-speak. That 1974 article in The Atlantic presaged this concern well: “Accuracy, of course, can better be won by a committee armed with computers than by a single intelligence. But while accuracy binds the trust between reader and contributor, eccentricity and elegance and surprise are the singular qualities that make learning an inviting transaction. And they are not qualities we associate with committees.” Yet Wikipedia has eccentricity, elegance, and surprise in abundance, especially in those moments when enthusiasm becomes excess and detail is rendered so finely (and pointlessly) that it becomes beautiful.

In the article on the sexual revolution, there was a line, since deleted, that read, “For those who were not there to experience it, it may be difficult to imagine how risk-free sex was during the 1960s and 1970s.” This anonymous autobiography in miniature is an intriguing piece of editorializing, but it's also a little legacy of the sexual revolution all by itself, a rueful reflection on a moment of freedom that didn't last. (The editor who added “Citation needed” is part of that story as well.) In the article on the anticommunist intellectual Frank Knopfelmacher, we learn that “his protracted, usually freewheeling, invariably slanderous late-night telephone monologues (visited alike upon associates and, more often, antagonists) retained a mythic status for decades among Australian intellectuals.” The Hong Kong novelist Lillian Lee, we are told, seeks “freedom and happiness, not fame.”

Pedants have a reputation for humorlessness, but for Wikipedians a sense of humor is at the core of the good-faith collaboration that defines the project. There is probably no need for an exhaustive history of a giant straw goat erected in a Swedish town each Christmas, but the article on the Gävle Goat chronicles its annual fate fastidiously. It is prone to vandalism by fire, and the article centers around an exacting timeline that lists the date of destruction, the method of destruction, and the new security measures put in place every year since 1966. (In 2005, it was “burnt by unknown vandals reportedly dressed as Santa and the gingerbread man, by shooting a flaming arrow at the goat.”)

Why do Wikipedians perform these millions of hours of labor, some expended on a giant straw goat, without pay? Because they don't experience them as labor. “It's a misconception people work for free,” Wales told the site Hacker Noon in 2018. “They have fun for free.” A 2011 survey of more than 5,000 Wikipedia contributors listed “It's fun” as one of the primary reasons they edited the site.

This is why the meta side of Wikipedia—the Talk pages, the essay commentaries, the policies—is suffused with nerdy jokes. We're so used to equating seriousness with importance that this jars at first: It's hard to square the encapsulation of all human knowledge with a policy called “Don't be a dick” (since revised to “Don't be a jerk”). But expressing the directive that way carries a purpose. It's the same purpose that drives Wikipedians to collect and celebrate the site's “Lamest edit wars,” which include long-running skirmishes on Freddie Mercury's ancestry, the provenance of Caesar salad, the proper pronunciation of J. K. Rowling's surname (“Perhaps it rhymes with ‘Trolling’?”), the wording of certain captions (“Is the cat depicted really smiling?”), and the threshold of notoriety required to appear on a list of fictional badgers.

Few architects of a world encyclopedia would think to include a forum for jokes, and in the unlikely event that they did, no one could anticipate that it would be important. But on Wikipedia the jokes are very important. They defuse tensions. They foster joyful cooperation. They encourage humility. They promote further reading and further editing. They also represent a surprise return to the earliest days of Enlightenment reference works. Samuel Johnson's dictionary, compiled in 1755, gives one definition of “dull” as “not exhilarating; not delightful: as, to make dictionaries is dull work.” Perhaps the most important encyclopedia of the late modern period, the Encyclopédie, is barbed with satirical and anticlerical quips: The entry on “Cannibals” cross-references with “Communion.”

Wikipedia ought to serve as a model for many forms of social endeavor online, but its lessons do not translate readily into the commercial sphere. It is a noncommercial enterprise, with no investors or shareholders to appease, no financial imperative to grow or die, and no standing to maintain in the arms race to amass data and attain AI supremacy at all costs. At Jimmy Wales' wedding, one of the maids of honor toasted him as the sole internet mogul who wasn't a billionaire. And that's what's awesome about it. It realizes that in as a society, we don't have to work to sustain ourselves, that's something we built the society for, we work to collect what we like, and that's our earning from the labour. Wikipedians work for curiosity and satisfaction and collect knowledge and joy.

The site has helped its fellow tech behemoths, though, especially with the march of AI. Wikipedia's liberal content licenses and vast information hoard have allowed developers to train neural networks much more quickly, cheaply, and widely than proprietary data sets ever could have. When you ask Apple's Siri or Amazon's Alexa a question, Wikipedia helps provide the answer. When you Google a famous person or place, Wikipedia often informs the “knowledge panel” that appears alongside your search results.

These tools were made possible by a project called Wikidata, the next ambitious step toward realizing the age-old dream of creating a “World Brain.” It began with a Croatian computer scientist and Wikipedia editor named Denny Vrandečić. He was enthralled with the online encyclopedia's content but felt frustrated that users could not ask it questions that required drawing on knowledge from multiple entries across the site. Vrandečić wanted Wikipedia to be able to answer a query like “What are the 20 largest cities in the world that have a female mayor? The knowledge is obviously in Wikipedia, but it's hidden. To get it out would be huge work.” .

Drawing on an idea from the early internet called “the semantic web,” Vrandečić set out to structure and enrich Wikipedia's data set so that it could, in effect, begin to synthesize its own knowledge. If there were some way to tag women and mayors and cities by population size, then a correctly coded query could return the 20 largest cities with a female mayor automatically. Vrandečić had edited Wikipedia in Croatian, English, and German, so he recognized the limitations of using plain English semantic tagging. Instead, he chose numerical codes. Any reference to the book Treasure Island might be tagged with the code Q185118, for example, or the color brown with Q47071.

Vrandečić assumed this coding and tagging would have to be carried out by bots. But of the 80 million items that have been added to Wikidata so far, around half have been entered by human volunteers, a level of crowdsourcing that has surprised even Wikidata's creators. Editing Wikidata and editing Wikipedia, it turns out, are different enough that they don't cannibalize the same contributors. Wikipedia attracts people interested in writing prose, and Wikidata compels dot-connectors, puzzle-solvers, and completionists. (Its product manager, Lydia Pintscher, still comes home from a movie and manually copies the cast list from IMDb into Wikidata with the appropriate tags.) ANd wikipedia is amazing because it isn't bothered by the possoibility that AI does sort of take over, or that there is canabalistic editing, its an evolving landscape, with its freedom to exist.

As platforms like Google and Alexa work to provide instant answers to random questions, Wikidata will be one of the key architectures that link the world's information together. The system still results in errors sometimes—that's why Siri briefly thought Bulgaria's national anthem was “Despacito”—but its prospective scale is already more ambitious than Wikipedia's. There are subprojects aiming to itemize every sitting politician on earth, every painting in every public collection worldwide, and every gene in the human genome into searchable, adaptable, and machine-readable form.

The jokes will still be there. Consider Wikidata's numerical tag for the author Douglas Adams, Q42. In Adams' book The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a group of hyperintelligent beings build a vast, powerful computer called Deep Thought, which they ask for the “Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything.” What comes out is the number 42. That wink of self-awareness—at the folly and joy of building something as preposterous and powerful as a world brain— is why, with Wikipedia, you know you are getting the best possible information.

what an anlysis. but this ep does not exist.

Ok so as of 21:15 UTC, 21st November, there have been

2,053 Total User Reviews for the Supernatural series finale, "Carry On".

Of these,

1,335 have been 1 (of 10) star reviews, while 546 have been 10 (of 10) star reviews.

That's 65% & 27% respectively.

I mean, I guess those numbers are bad enough on their own but believe it or not they're actually an improvement on this afternoon's picture, where the divide was closer to 70-20.

Now obviously, the reception looks bad, doesnt it? Yes? Yes?

Yes.

But what's worth noting is that even dealing strictly with these 2 extremes, & handing the advantage over completely to the positive side (I.e. the 10/10 ratings), you end up with something like this-

1⭐ - 65%

10⭐ - 35%

I.e. a 4.15 ⭐ average.

But the average rating is 6.6/10. I would've taken the distribution of the ratings directly but I dont see any means to access it on imdb (maybe I'm just dumb).

Which leaves us to infer indirectly from the data above, that the people rating the episode positively, aren't reviewing as much as the people rating it negatively.

From over 7,000 ratings, let's try and estimate the general distribution of responses & see how it compares to that of the subset which reviewed.

Again, dealing strictly with extremes, we can reduce the problems to two variables for which we have 2 linear equations available

Let x be the percentage of 10/10 ratings, & y that of 1/10 ratings, then

10X + Y = 6.6

X + Y = 1

I would've gone for a linear programming solution but there simply are not enough constraints without removing the other 8 variables from the equation.

So basically in an only extremes scenario, u have 38% of the audience responding negatively to the episode, while 62% are satisfied.

62% said 😍🤣😝🤔🤫😮😯😲😭😊😭😊 instead of 🙂🙂🤨🙃😶😪😴😴😴😴😴

62% said 10/10.

An almost completely inverted image of the reviewer response.

Its

Interesting.

There's really nothing this proves. True to the spirit of statistics, this was mostly pointless. All that can be substantially concluded is that at the very least, the people who were disappointed by the finale felt far more strongly about it than the people who weren't. The people who cared more were the ones left heartbroken. Whatever that's worth.

just to add some rainbow sparkles, the spotify ask thing is going around, and this might be the only thing more romantic than destiel, so keeeep goin y'all.  find pieces of each other in songs u share

16 for the spotify wrapped thing 💕

👀

Behold, an angel

How can I fit my whole life into one box? how did one box fit my whole life ?

Sunrise behind an Argentine training ship

National Geographic | June 1976

From: Dante Alighieri, 1265-1321. Le banquet. Paris : Moreau, 1852

PQ4316.57 .R4

wells

if you’re interested in mutual aid and aren’t sure where to start, i can’t recommend enough joining a local Buy Nothing group. in a nutshell, it’s a totally free gift economy— people give from their own abundance and ask for what they need. it’s indispensable as a recent grad household— we got the majority of our basic furniture, as well as an AC unit through the group— but what i find particularly wonderful are the ways other forms of community aid popup through the group.

i’ve seen people organize meal trains for strangers. people fleeing from domestic violence have gone from a suitcase of possessions to a fully stocked house in 48 hours. home hospices being set up with goods from six different households. cookbook lending. distribution of windfall apples and tomato harvest overabundance. grocery pickup for ill folks. people looking out for listings for others. everything from bread to baby carseats to house paint to pet food.

and much of it is done between strangers, often between people who would not recognize or identify with the term “mutual aid”. it lowers waste, goods go directly to people who need them, and it avoids the sometimes dubious morality of the thrift shop circuit. i’d really recommend it.

wandering

where do i live now?

tell me love.

from your words,

from those dreams,

i am lost,

i can not figure.

where do i live now, tell me.

never thought,

it would come here.

this soul, lost

why?

why doesn’t it understand.

where is home,

tell me darling,

please.