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Subject: [humanmarkup-comment] HM.GroupProject: Tag a short story
Hello Everyone,
Here is a unique experiment that I would like to
try with the group. I have penned a rather small short-story that is in
plain-text format. What I would like you all to do is to mark up the text
of the story to include various datatypes classes such as:
Kinesics: The study of nonlinguistic bodily
movements, such as gestures and facial expressions, as a systematic mode of
communication. (With subclasses such as facial gestures, bodily gestures,
etc)
Haptics: issues of physical interaction between
people
There an exhaustive list of possible markup
categories that we can focus on. For simplicity we should focus on perhaps just
the kinesics issues for now.
This project was suggested to me by Ranjeeth. I
believe that we should look at the various basic tagging techniques, styles, and
suggestions from group members to see how we can inductively decide how to
develop a common and authoritative syntax and markup method for
HumanMarkup.
I know this is, dare I say it, *work*, but it is
for a good purpose. I invite you all to tag this short story and post
your work on the comments board for everyone to see. Your work will not be
graded and there is no due date. (Hopefully this will assuage any
residual psychological blowback from memories of late papers and irate
professors. ;-) ) This is just a small project to get everyone focused on
the what, why, and hows of HM XML tagging.
Cordially,
Joe Norris
jwnorris@humanmarkup.org --------------------------
Echoes from a
Diner
------------------- On a chilly, wet afternoon in early autumn Spiro
Diapolus stood behind the counter of the Delicacy Diner. It was lunchtime.
Outside the rain had already fallen so that the leaves from the trees made the
ground look as it was covered with a colorful afghan. The street was busy, and
inside the diner there were a dozen customers settling down to eat. Spiro,
folding the Daily Times upon the counter, scanned the headlines. His hand rubbed
his chin intensely as if trying to erase something from his own person. He could
not read, as was his normal custom, for the sounds of a different day confronted
his senses.
"Hey Spiro," a familiar voice said. "What do I owe
you?"
"Ten eighty-nine Jake," Spiro responded
absently.
Jake removed a bill from his wallet. He handed
Spiro a twenty. Jake was attired as usual, although Spiro could note that Jake
had a certain look of man who had slept in his suit. Perhaps it was his beard
Spiro thought. Then again, it's hard to tell.
"Nine eleven's your change. Have a nice
day."
Watching him leave, Sprio could see that his old
friend was the same as always. Things just seem different. Outside the door, a
new middle-aged couple entered the diner. Unlike Jake, they we not familiar.
They seemed out of place in this urban diner.
"Lilly, please have prepare a table our
guests."
The man, removing his Stetson hat, said, "Much
obliged."
Lilly grabbed two menus and lead the couple to
their table. Careworn and tired, Lilly's lips parted a nearly imperceptible
smile as the two guests opened their menus. She returned to filling the salt
shakers and ketchup bottles.
"Damn shame Marie," as the man fumbling through the
plastic covered pages of the menu. His hands were large, masculine, the hands of
a man who worked for a living. "Damn shame."
"I don't feel like eating much Earl, there's too
much on my mind. You know I can't feel much like eating after that long
flight."
Putting the menu on the table, Marie raised her
hands to her face and held them there as if trying to cover her eyes. Taking a
swift path to her forward Marie rubbed her temples emphatically.
"Well, honey we are gonna go see that boy this
afternoon, and he is coming home with us whether he likes it or not. Working in
this damn fool city has gotta end."
From behind the counter, Spiro turned his gaze from
his paper to see the arrival of two men. Both were attired in navy blue suits,
they kind of looked like twins. The taller of two, wore dark glasses which he
promptly removed to his jacket pocket upon entering the diner. The shorter man
held a large manila folder filled with unevenly filed papers of many
colors.
The hostess, promptly seated the two gentleman and
handed them a menu.
"No thank you Miss," said one of the navy suited
men, "just coffee."
"Same here," uttered his companion.
Lilly went off to the coffeemachine. Rows of heavy
earthenware mugs were sitting atop a shelf above her head. Carefully taking down
two mugs, Lilly poured the steaming coffee. As the acrid aroma of slightly
overcooked coffee entered her nose she couldn't help but notice the hushed tones
of her two twin customers. Their ill cut blazers indicated that these two were
not of the executive crowd.
"The district supervisor is breathing down my neck.
If I don't get these files to the temporary office they will have my
head."
Fumbling through the file of papers, the man
retrieved a yellow colored paper and handed it to his companion.
"This looks really bad Art. With loses like this we
can expect serious cutbacks in our department especially since we lost the
Yokimora account."
"Well at least we wouldn't have to take the damn
ferry across the river every morning," said Art sipping his coffee with a wry
smile.
Dropping a pencil on the ground, Lilly carefully
picked it up to finish her tally. Carefully adding the numbers on her pad, she
took a careful look at the table in the corner which sat four college kids from
the university. They were the loudest table in the diner. Smiling and in good
spirits the students looked carefree.
"They come to this country, go to school, and they
try to blow things up," Lilly muttered to herself under her breath.
Lilly was surprised at herself. She didn't consider
herself prejudiced. A church-going person, she felt that such a feeling was
wrong and sinful. Feelings of discomfort welled up inside her as she walked to
the table and handed the students their bill.
"Thank you very very much," uttered a heavily
accented young man.
Handing Lilly a five dollar bill for a tip, the man
and his friends took their bookbags and walked down the isle to the door. Almost
crumpling the bill in her hand, Lilly felt ashamed and put the guilty bill
inside her pocket. That was the best tip she had received all
day.
--------
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