Mayberry RDF
Some of the uses of the Semantic Web in a small North Carolina town (with apologies to Tim Berners-Lee, et al.)
Say you're a journalist; your car has broken down while you are on your way to a conference on virtual communities, somewhere in the Research Triangle. You type in car service, location within two miles. The name of the mechanic is Goober, but he has an online reputation of 4.5 out of 5.
So you decide that while you're getting your car serviced, you might as well look good. By typing in a date range in yyyy-mm-dd format into your pda, it returns that a barber named Floyd has an appointment available. Floyd's a talky kind of guy and he's not sure how to cut your hair, but using Universal Resource Identifiers (URIs) Sam is able to find information on fancy city haircuts.
Floyd tells you about the town, and the great strides they've made with technology. For instance, a woman named Bea has a wired oven that senses whether her pies are done. Through a wi-fi connection if Bea's nephew and grand nephew are within a few blocks they can also tell when one of Bea's pies is done.
The people all seem very friendly. Sure, there are problems. For instance, one of the town's citizens, let's call him Otis, all too often becomes inebriated. Fortunately, this town is laid out in new urbanist fashion and Otis doesn't drive. But when he has too much to drink, the sheriff (who happens to be Bea the piemaker's nephew Andy) puts Otis away in a cell. Otis usually stays overnight in the cell. But even if Andy has to leave because sensors tell him where the catfish are biting, Otis can use a breathalyzer which is connected to the cell door. With a low enough reading Otis can let himself out of the cell.
Obviously technology seems to work quite well in these parts because no one moves too fast or works too much. While you are sitting in the chair, in comes the deputy sheriff who gives a little snort, hitches his pants, and puts his feet up and keeps repeating the same thing over and over, something about going "down to the filling station. Get a soda pop. Go over to Thelma Lou's. Watch a little TV." While he does this he's using a cell phone to check on soda pop URIs: availabilities, varieties, and temperatures, information provided by the soda pop cooler. Then he's able to sync with Thelma Lou's PIM and find out a list of mutually agreeable television listings. You don't stick around long enough to find out whether the deputy sheriff ever leaves, since Sam finishes the hair cut. But by the time you get out of there you're tempted to check out your PDA, because both the barber and deputy sheriff could probably use a certified therapist.
You go back to your car and Goober isn't there but his cousin is. Between the cousin's impenetrable southern accent and the speed at which he talks the only thing you can understand is that he is excited about something and he has an amazing tenor voice. "Shazam!" The car seems to be working, and the gas pump connects to a URL through which you can download a couple of the cousin's mp3s.
You are on deadline, but on your way out of town, you might as well check and see if there is anything to cover here. Lo and behold the sheriff's son shows up on IMDB as a hot shot Hollywood director. A few e-mails and a couple of whuffie-checks later, you've got yourself a story.
Some of the uses of the Semantic Web in a small North Carolina town (with apologies to Tim Berners-Lee, et al.)
Say you're a journalist; your car has broken down while you are on your way to a conference on virtual communities, somewhere in the Research Triangle. You type in car service, location within two miles. The name of the mechanic is Goober, but he has an online reputation of 4.5 out of 5.
So you decide that while you're getting your car serviced, you might as well look good. By typing in a date range in yyyy-mm-dd format into your pda, it returns that a barber named Floyd has an appointment available. Floyd's a talky kind of guy and he's not sure how to cut your hair, but using Universal Resource Identifiers (URIs) Sam is able to find information on fancy city haircuts.
Floyd tells you about the town, and the great strides they've made with technology. For instance, a woman named Bea has a wired oven that senses whether her pies are done. Through a wi-fi connection if Bea's nephew and grand nephew are within a few blocks they can also tell when one of Bea's pies is done.
The people all seem very friendly. Sure, there are problems. For instance, one of the town's citizens, let's call him Otis, all too often becomes inebriated. Fortunately, this town is laid out in new urbanist fashion and Otis doesn't drive. But when he has too much to drink, the sheriff (who happens to be Bea the piemaker's nephew Andy) puts Otis away in a cell. Otis usually stays overnight in the cell. But even if Andy has to leave because sensors tell him where the catfish are biting, Otis can use a breathalyzer which is connected to the cell door. With a low enough reading Otis can let himself out of the cell.
Obviously technology seems to work quite well in these parts because no one moves too fast or works too much. While you are sitting in the chair, in comes the deputy sheriff who gives a little snort, hitches his pants, and puts his feet up and keeps repeating the same thing over and over, something about going "down to the filling station. Get a soda pop. Go over to Thelma Lou's. Watch a little TV." While he does this he's using a cell phone to check on soda pop URIs: availabilities, varieties, and temperatures, information provided by the soda pop cooler. Then he's able to sync with Thelma Lou's PIM and find out a list of mutually agreeable television listings. You don't stick around long enough to find out whether the deputy sheriff ever leaves, since Sam finishes the hair cut. But by the time you get out of there you're tempted to check out your PDA, because both the barber and deputy sheriff could probably use a certified therapist.
You go back to your car and Goober isn't there but his cousin is. Between the cousin's impenetrable southern accent and the speed at which he talks the only thing you can understand is that he is excited about something and he has an amazing tenor voice. "Shazam!" The car seems to be working, and the gas pump connects to a URL through which you can download a couple of the cousin's mp3s.
You are on deadline, but on your way out of town, you might as well check and see if there is anything to cover here. Lo and behold the sheriff's son shows up on IMDB as a hot shot Hollywood director. A few e-mails and a couple of whuffie-checks later, you've got yourself a story.
posted by smallstreams at
3:09 PM
