A guest column by Marc Record.
I know that some people have been all too quick to call for my death, but we must look beyond such such short-sighted little people toward the greater good, as we have always done.
In doing so, I must acknowledge that I am probably not long for this world. Not because I am not doing useful work, mind you, as I completely am, but that because there are so many who call for my demise and at some point you must realize your time is near at hand.
Thus your thoughts must betimes turn to the future, and the legacy you wish to leave to those coming after. And the legacy I wish to leave is one of description. To be specific, a description most OWL. Or Turtle. Or whatever. The point is to leave behind descriptions of useful resources that don’t require the old ways of doing things — frankly, our ways of doing things — as a requirement.
I mean, it’s all about the data. If the data that I have carried so faithfully for so many decades can be taken forward into the future, then great.
But I want you to promise me something. Back when I was born, I represented the cutting edge in technology. Sure, now I seem long in the tooth, and I am, but for many years I was a technological marvel. Most professions that relied on data (for example, doctors) were decades behind me. In a lot of ways, I was the poster child for capturing structured data controlled by rules that could be parsed by computers. It’s remarkable, really.
So that’s my ask. I will go quietly into that dark night but on one condition — that you don’t set your sights too low. That you really examine both the modern requirements for bibliographic data and the amazing opportunities that exist today.
And having reviewed all of this, you then make a bold, cutting edge, almost astonishing move. Like what happened when Henriette Avram gave birth to me.
Now that would be a legacy worthy of my name.
Picture by Schu, https://www.flickr.com/photos/litandmore/, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.