The river dries up
by Anton Zuiker on February 10, 2025
I was bummed to read Dave’s announcement today that he’ll soon shut down the two public instances of his excellent Feedland.
I’ve been using that for the last couple of years to read a host of blogs and news sites; for the moment, you can see the feeds I follow at news.mistersugar.com.
I’ve also used Feedland to offer the Duke River of News, a collection of news feeds from across the university and health system. There’s a way for me to run Feedland on my own server and I may try to attempt that, and if I do get it running, I’ll use it only for my river of news. I’ll most likely end the Duke river as I’m not sure it’s been much use to anyone for quite some time. (I will offer the opml reading list to my communicator colleagues.)
Anyway, my thanks to Dave for this valuable tool (and its predecessors).
One step ahead of the other
by Anton Zuiker on February 6, 2025
I keep telling myself to get back to blogging each and every day, but there’s just so much distraction all around. It takes just one step to get going, and then focus to just not stop. So … on the Uwharrie Mountain Run last Saturday, a perfect morning to run—rainstorms across North Carolina the night before, but clear skies and temperatures in the 40s—I missed most of beautiful hills and woods all around as I kept my eyes on the rocky path. I chose to run the 8 mile race this year. I finished at 1 hour 53 minutes. (In 2020 I ran 8 miles at 1 hour 45 minutes; in 2018 the 20 miles at 5 hours 3 minutes; in 2002 I ran 8 miles but cannot find a record of my time.)
Be less boring
by Anton Zuiker on January 30, 2025
On my way to work this morning, I retrieved the Jan. 27, 2025 issue of The New Yorker from the mailbox. At my lunch break, I took that issue with me on my walk to the Durham Food Hall, where I sat with a cappuccino and slice of coffee cake, and I settled into this essay by Daniel Immerwahr, What if the Attention Crisis Is All a Distraction? It’s an interesting take on the age-old tradition of crying danger at new technology—TikTok, television, the iron stove, novels!—and what our abilities to focus may be doing to ourselves and to society.
Just last night, I’d sent a message to a colleague offering to lend my copies of Deep Work and Slow Productivity, both by Cal Newport. Those are just two of the many books and podcasts and articles I’ve studied over the last year as I’ve changed the ways I’ve worked and played. I’ve also finally started to read my copy of The Power of Habit, by Charles Duhigg (mine is an advanced reader’s copy that I received at ScienceOnline 2012).
I starred this paragraph in Immerwahr’s essay:
[Chris Hayes’s] illuminating backstage account of cable news describes thoughtful journalists debasing themselves in their scramble to retain straying viewers. Garish graphics, loud voices, quick topic changes, and titillating stories—it’s like jangling keys to lure a dog. The more viewers get their news from apps, the harder television producers have to shake those keys.
A few days ago, I’d complained to Erin that I disliked how NPR news programs come back from station breaks with some version of “Elephants in Africa are…but first we’re going to hear from Senator….” I guess that’s the ‘quick topic changes’ mentioned above.
Another Immerwahr sentence: “When someone calls for audiences to be more patient, I instinctively think, Alternatively, you could be less boring.”
Last week, in interviews for a promotion, I was asked to briefly describe my career journey. Both times, I realized, I didn’t do the best in answering, so I dropped into zuiker.com/zen/ to draft a script for next time. Through habit, I’ll be ready with an answer.
In college I studied communications, then worked as a features writer in Hawaii and as editor of an arts and culture magazine in Cleveland.
After Peace Corps service in the South Pacific, I became an early blogger, web content strategist, and organizer of online community.
I earned a masters degree in medical journalism from UNC-Chapel Hill, worked on an AIDS-related global health project, and then joined Duke University, where I coordinated internal communications for the health system, lead the Department of Medicine communications activities, and now work as a communications project manager and team leader in the Duke Clinical Research Institute.
Along my journey, I also organized an international science communications network and won awards for the Voices of Duke Health podcast.
I am in my 25th year blogging at zuiker.com.
Holding up a lantern
by Anton Zuiker on January 21, 2025
The inauguration was yesterday. I was horrified. I watched it because this is my country and that’s what I believe I should do. I’m not going to live in the dark.
Also, Sun Tzu says to study your enemy.
Scheme so as to discover his plans and the likelihood of their success. Rouse him, and learn the principle of his activity or inactivity. Force him to reveal himself, so as to find out his vulnerable spots.
I’m angry at my family members for voting for the criminal, and I’m opposed to most of this administration’s policies—ironically, I’m for upholding our immigration laws and protecting our borders, including honoring our commitments to providing amnesty and safe harbor, just as I am for upholding our laws about storming government buildings and evading taxes and stealing classified documents.
I needed to keep my head clear of the pull of negativity.
So, I tried something new.
Free 3D printing at the Co-Lab Studio is just one more perk of my job at Duke University. I’ve known about the lab for years but never tried it. In a Discord group someone linked to the design file for a simple shade for the Sofirn BLF LT1 Anduril 2.0 Rechargeable Lantern (I have two in orange, picked up on a great sale last year). I followed the Duke instructions, uploaded and sliced the file, picked a printer, and watched as the shade grew. On my way home from work (downtown, about two-and-a-half miles from campus), I stopped by the studio to find the green shade on the table of completed projects.
At home, the shade fit nicely onto the lantern. I would have used it in the woods just now as I walked down the hill to meet Oliver walking from his friend’s house across the creek, but a beautiful snowfall is covering Chapel Hill, and the hillside is shimmering. I could hear Oliver across the way, exclaiming his joy. Alongside Erin yesterday, he had watched a lot of news coverage of the inauguration, so he understands the significance and the danger and the need to keep aware. His awe and joy as we scrambled up to our house shows the strength we have to weather what’s ahead.
When grief is on the mantle
by Anton Zuiker on January 17, 2025
Erin and I are still working our way through Lockerbie. I vaguely recall how the trial ended so we’ll watch to the end.
I also have a memory of a postcard in a Ziploc bag on a mantle in Baltimore.
A year or so after college, I visited a friend of mine who was a living in that city as a volunteer. He and I stopped to check on a townhouse that he was looking after while the occupants were away, and he pointed to the bagged postcard, telling me it was retrieved from the wreckage of Pan Am 103.
I’ll have to check with my friend to confirm the details of that memory. I do know I’ve thought about that many times, wondering about the grief that comes from sudden and unexpected tragedy, and whether peace comes ever for the loved ones who look at the postcard every day.