This is honestly the first good view I’ve seen of genAI search optimization across the models. But good to know it’s still a bit of 🤷‍♂️ for everyone.
https://www.seerinteractive.com/insights/what-is-generative-engine-optimization-geo
This is honestly the first good view I’ve seen of genAI search optimization across the models. But good to know it’s still a bit of 🤷‍♂️ for everyone.
https://www.seerinteractive.com/insights/what-is-generative-engine-optimization-geo
I’m a childless man in my late 30’s, so naturally I’ve become a pretty serious runner.
But I always seem to lose motivation around this time of year. I blame the dark, short days in the PNW. This year I tried to anticipate this lull, and I joined a pool.
I swim every Monday and Friday, and I’m awful at it.
I can do one, maybe two laps at a time (25 yard pool) before I’m gasping for breath. I’m sure it’s partly due to poor form and breathing technique. The lanes to the left and right of me are full of people who seem to have perfect strokes. Who never need a break. I know that’s not actually the case, but it sure feels like that in the moment.
Each session is a struggle, yet I keep going back, twice a week, for my 30 minutes of not so much fun. Yet it’s what they call “type 2 fun”: not fun in the moment, but fun in retrospect.
I’m learning to seek out these sorts of experiences more as I get older. It’s surprisingly rewarding, and humbling, to fight the instinct of familiarity, and try stuff you’re so inexperienced at that it’s a little embarrassing.
Read this earlier today, and was reminded about the magic of RSS, something I definitely take for granted.
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/
The argument is stronger now, in the dystopian internet we have today. But even in the early days RSS was one of the best ways to sift through the garbage and mess of the web. These days, it’s a protocol rarely discussed. I imagine most have forgotten about RSS, or don’t even know it exists. But it’s always been there, humming along, and it’s arguable more useful than ever in curating what you read on the web.
Years ago, when my beloved Google Reader was killed off, I temporarily was fooled into thinking social media feeds, and their built-in curation would replace RSS adequately. I eventually woke up from that reality and started using readers again, first Feedly, then NetNewsWire, and lately Readwise Reader.
Some sites are better than others in handling RSS. But even if a site supplies only the bare minimum in their feed (A headline and a link), I still get what I want: Getting direct updates from the writers and sites I want to hear from. Ownership of my own curation, rather than delegating it to an algorithm to decide for me.
RSS doesn’t solve everything. Walled gardens like LinkedIn aren’t really accessible through it. And that’s a shame. We shouldn’t have to be bound to a single platform to share and consume great ideas. But there’s still plenty of the web that RSS can still reach. It might be time for you to to dust off this delightful old tool of an earlier internet. It still works well.
After a year of neglect, I’m hoping to give this site more attention and posts once more. In the process, there’s some fixing up I need to do on the site, and I remembered that I set up Google Analytics on this site years ago – probably decades in fact. And yet, I’ve almost never touched the data. Not for lack of knowledge of the data or the tool. A big part of my job revolves around analytics, and google analytics in particular. It’s just not terribly interesting or useful for a personal site.
So I just decided to remove any tracking on the site for now. Maybe it’ll return someday— but I see no reason to collect data I’m unlikely to use. It’d be one thing if I were making design & content decisions from the insights. But I’m not. I realize the only reason I was collecting the data was that it may someday become useful. That seems like a pretty weak reason to me.
To be clear, there’s plenty of value in analytics when applied in a focused, purposeful way. But as the world embraces more privacy legislature and cultural norms, it’s worth questioning your motives. Are you collecting data for data’s sake?
It’s been over a year since I wrote here. To be honest, I kinda forgot about it. Though I thought of this site again recently when I was reading Cory Doctorow’s reflections on 20 years of blogging (via kottke.org).
I think this idea of a blog as public “commonplace book” is really interesting. Commonplace books in general are just a concept that very much appeals to me. Though I’ve tried this kind of thing before with physical and digital note taking and it’s never really stuck. It feels like this big exercise and formal process that I inevitably abandon, regardless of the format. But if you think of blogging as something where you’re collecting ideas regularly and sharing your thoughts on them – then over time, that basically becomes your public knowledgebase on the topic.
I do think the distinction of it being public vs private is key. Having a potential public audience (in my case, likely no one right now) forces accountability. My notes can’t just be this mess that even I can’t decipher. And even if this site really is just for me to reflect back – I’ll at least have confidence that I’ll have semi-organized thoughts here. I think my own pride wouldn’t allow anything less.
Now, whether writing here actually becomes a habit for me again….Who knows.
It took me awhile in my career to realize there’s a big difference between report building and analysis. I figured if you build it, people will use it, understand it, and come to their own conclusions. I thought that the main value I brought to the table as an analyst was the know-how to assemble the right data in the right place.
The reality, though, is that people actually want more from you than a report. They want your assessment of it. Your analysis. That step is harder to offer – it requires not just a technical understanding of the data, but an opinion for what it all means.
And too often, analysis work is treated as an afterthought, rather than being the focus of any data work. Always ask “What’s this for” when you’re tasked with a new data project. The answer probably isn’t simple a report, but rather, the insights gleaned from it.
Have you ever noticed that once a meeting grows past a certain number of invitees, people stop trying to cater to calendar availability? The meeting evolves from “How can we make sure we have you in the room to make this decision” to “Here’s when we are meeting, figure out how to be there”.
Typically for me, this happens at five or so people. But the fact that you’re no longer ensuring attendance and instead shoving your way into calendars is likely cause to question the purpose and value of the meeting in the first place.
If you need to get a message out to a large group – is a meeting even the best approach?
Meetings can be a powerful tool to solve a problem quickly with the right people in the room. But they’re only effective if you recognize and respect their limitations, chief among them: there is such a thing as too many people in the room.
I got a mysterious letter in the mail recently:
A large, heavy-duty envelope. An official sounding document number. Signature requested? On a red sticker? Better take a look.
“Dear Mr. Shearer, we have an exclusive offer for you from AAA Life Insurance….”
Opening this letter made me realize something. The direct mail envelope is a kindred spirit with the email subject line, the article headline, and the display ad. They’re each the metaphorical and literal “packaging” of a marketing message. And you can take one of two tactics with them, each with their appropriate use cases:
The first approach is easier and more spectacular. And it can be exciting to see what gets people to click or open. But all too often, the engagement you get is superficial. Excitement stops at the surface, since the message you started with didn’t match the message you ended with. Quantity over quality.
The second approach is tougher and less glamorous. But when you deliver a consistent message throughout, you’re most likely to get engagement with the people who actually want to engage with you. Quality over quantity.
It’s easy to see the library as a hassle. Who wants to wait around for weeks for a book to become available, then be bound by a two week period to read it? I know I used to hate this process. If I wasn’t ready to read that book, then I was forced to confront the shame of returning the book earlier (or the shame of late fees).
But the constraints of the library are really a gift. The gift of a deadline.
When you check out a book from the library the constraints aren’t negotiable, and you can almost find peace in that certainty. You don’t get that book to read someday. You have to start now.
You can do this same thing elsewhere in life to force action. But constraints for the sake of constraints don’t do much good. They have to carry weight. Perhaps a penalty for violating them. You might have the willpower to psyche yourself up to run every morning. But perhaps a better way to force your behavior is to sign up for a race. Once the deadline is there, you have no choice but to act.
I flew home from a trip on MLK Day and arrived to an airport in chaos. I usually take a Uber or Lyft home rather than park at the airport, but when I went to call a ride, the prices and wait times were astronomical, with a line of drivers stretched for miles around the airport.
I glanced over at the nearly empty line for a regular, boring taxi. It was as if it were invisible to the horde of people overflowing in the Uber waiting area.
I made it home faster than an Uber would have even been able to pick me up. Oh, and it was cheaper too.
It’s always worth pausing, taking a breath, and noticing when you’re engaging in a habit or pattern. Is what you’re doing truly the best course of action? Or are you just on autopilot, following the crowd?