January 23rd, 2006
It turns out that my last rant about my prolificacy (in words, that is), which appealed to reviewers in a sort of sly and underhanded way by offering an un-advertised link to rate my blog, actually yielded some response. So thanks to the reviewers/responders.
You know, there are a lot of ways of presenting links. I've learned this through technical writing and also from designing web pages. You can link to another page in a variety of ways, each with its own intellectual impact. I'm not talking about the knowledge of seeing the link and knowing, mechanically, what to do. Heck, pretty much everyone knows what a hyperlink is and what it is for (even if not everyone knows how to create one in a document or even what its name is). I am talking about link styles as attached to semantic meaning.
Example One:
I can be silly when I want.
Example Two:
You think you've seen it all? Check out my Spinning head of Spontaneity!
Example Three:
Or, to learn more about how silly I can be, click here.
Folks will jump in and say, "Oh, Example One is the right one," or, "Two is best!" etc. But the truth of the matter is that each link has its own advantage and is "the right one" under certain circumstances.
Example One implies semantic meaning ("silly") which is inherent, or built-in, to the hyperlink. We click it being told by implication that the fruits of our clicking will be silliness. If you are a web-head (i.e., you are a computer geek in your mid-thirties or older, or you are younger than about thirty-five, then you will see the hyperlink and instantly know what you gotta do, and instantly know that "silliness" is at the other end of the link.
Example Two tells you what you are aiming at when you click, but in a descriptive way. No overt semantic meaning is attached to the link; in fact, the name is used as the basis for the link, so users are informed about what the results of the click will yield in unemotional terms. Users can make up their own minds about whether or not to click the link, and if they do click the link, they can make up their own minds about the value of the destination. Is it "silly" or "funny"? "Stupid" or "pointless?" They decide.
Let's look at the first two links a little more in relation to the meta-conversation going on between the author-constructor (the person who writes the text and creates the underlying code to produce the hyperlink) and the user. In the first example, the user is caught up in an assumption made by the author-constructor: "I find this silly, and by attaching the word silly to the pathway to the me-defined silliness, I am assuming that you are like-minded enough to agree with me that it is silly." That is, if the user and the author-constructor share enough of their value systems, the user will click the link to the author-constructor-defined silliness and be rewarded with the fruits of the clicking labour--that is silly to the user as well.
In a case such as this, the user participates equally in assigning the semantic meaning to the link--provided there is agreement between the participants about whether the results are satisfyingly "silly" or not. Imagine the user clicks the word "silly" and does not find the destination of the link silly at all, but alarming or appalling ... perhaps saddening or angering. The semantic meaning is broken at the point the link is clicked, and because of that, the link is ambiguous until the consummation of the destination. Example one may inherently assign semantic meaning to the link, but the meaning is ambiguous until there is collusion between the author-constructor and the user in the form of intellectual synchronicity. Maybe this is the most gratifying or frustrating of the three examples for the user. If there is a same or similar value system being shared between the author-constructor and the user, the user is pleased and gratified by the agreement. It becomes a dialogue between the two players. In the case of disagreement, it becomes a one-sided argument where the user cannot effect change to the author-constructor and subsequently frustrates the user.
There may be collusion in the second example, but it is of a different and less vital nature. By separating the words implying value judgement ("You think you've seen it all?") from the link to the destination, the author-constructor appears to be hedging bets somewhat. While the implication is that there is something unusual and special to be seen by users who click the link in the second part of the line (by assigning the name of the destination to the link) the user is supplied a preview of the content. Even before the link is clicked, the user has some information--perhaps enough information to make an intelligent and subjective assessment of its value--before the destination is ever reached. Perhaps, based on the name of the link, the user no longer feels the need to satisfy any curiosity about the destination of the link. Curiosity, by the way, is the fulcrum for all three examples. I deliberately chose something seemingly non-vital (silliness) so that one could not argue the reason for clicking was a matter of survival importance.
Let's move on to the third example. The author-constructor makes an attempt to separate authorial intention from reader response. That is, the author-constructor may have felt that the result of creation attempts were silly, but is at least partially aware that the user may not share the same value systems and thus disagree with the author-constructor about the "silliness" of the link destination. By creating a completely separate and semantically meaningless link descriptor ("click here"), there is no attempt by the author to transfer value assessments about the link destination to the user. The user sees the words "click here" and, as mentioned above, already knows the connection between links and clicking. The words are redundant/superfluous to the intended action. One characteristic of such a link presentation is the near-complete divorce of semantic meaning from the mechanical action of clicking the link. The user is given as much freedom as possible to click or not click, even having been given some idea of the destination of the link. But at no time is semantic meaning deliberately attached to the link to overpower the user's native response, or at least to confuse a divergent response. I am being careful here to not use absolute terms about the separation between the mechanics and the semantics of the link because there are always going to be at least some commonalities between the author-constructor and the user. This is borne out by the fact that the user is reading the author's content, the user and author must share enough language skill to have the one-way communication, and the user must have enough of an interest in (even if in reaction to) the topic of the author's content.
Right, so I can't help but notice my paragraphs are getting longer and longer.
That usually means it's time to stop.
Or die trying.
My original point was that I constructed the link into the text of my sentence, without any separation of implied semantic meaning from the link itself. And that's why I called it "sly and underhanded". I was pleased to see response that was immediate. And positive. If you'd like to rate my blog yourself (and haven't already done so) you are welcome to click the link somewhere at the bottom of this page.
There. Near 100% divorce of semantic meaning from the meaning of link. I say "near" because I know for a fact that there is at least some shared values between you and me: I know this because you are at the end of today's rant and you are still reading. That's gotta be worth something ... :-)
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