I'm at the AUCTC conference now, speaking about and demonstrating weblogs to technology specialists from universities around Atlantic Canada.
Post-mortem: Surprisingly, my timing was adequate (I usually run
short on time). But I should avoid running to a conference I'm giving,
it makes me feel more nervous. I suspect I didn't sound as enthusiastic
as I really am...
Feedback from the audience related to the issues of inappropriate
content (how far should institutional image control go?), intellectual
property (do academics really want dissemination?), and the
formalization of getting credit for contributions made in the weblog
medium (not going to happen anytime soon if you ask me).
For the most part, members of online communities usually rely on one
dominant communication channel - be it a mailing list, a forum,
weblogs, a wiki, or IRC - even when alternate channels would be helpful
for certain purposes. Communities like open source development networks
and the international, never-sleeping Joi Ito posse, whose members use multiple modes, are the exception rather than the norm.
I've been wondering about the factors that somehow work to inhibit or
facilitate the use of multiple communication channels, and the
interplay between those channels. Now there's a discussion underway on
that topic over at the lively Community Wiki, on the page Community Tied to One Technology.
Among the potential explanations that are brought up for sticking to
one channel: inertia, lack of technical acumen, the
fragmentation/critical mass problem, and the lack of integration
between modes.
My hunch is that as the "software that does less, well" pattern
and the concomitant "mix and match tools" user philosophy that we've
seen develop in social software become dominant, we'll see multiple
modes become rather widespread relatively quickly.
(I should point out that the incredibly prolific Dave Pollard touched upon this topic a while ago.)
In the traditional Irish session, the players sit in a circle, and call
out tunes on the fly, changing from one to another as the tune sets
evolve. It never takes long to get to the flow state described above,
where small variations in the tune suggest other things.
When the session is really humming there is a chemistry that arises
between the musicians. I have often thought of this state as one in
which all the individuals
in the group take a significant emotional investment in the music and
place it outside of themselves, in the middle of the circle, like a
glowing ball of energy that we all try to keep aloft.
Sounds like another instance of dialogue, which I've written about
a few times already. Here's one thing I haven't mentioned yet. In some
of the moments when I have found myself in deep discussion of physics
or computer science with others, there was a very similar atmosphere of
nondefensiveness and investment in some object of attention existing
outside of any participant. I note that it never happened in a large
group.
Update: Further, Frank Carver says he sees a parallel to the good role-playing game sessions he's experienced.
I'm at the 
