Testing Google Docs for WordPress

Let´s give it a try:

https://en.blog.wordpress.com/2017/03/07/introducing-wordpress-com-for-google-docs-a-new-way-forward-for-collaborative-editing/


UPDATE: SO I AM GOING TO UPDATE THIS DOCUMENT AND SAVE IT, LETS SEE WHAT HAPPENS. IT´S MAGICAL, THE POST UPDATED ITSELF!

So, yeah. Let´s try a few wacky things.

UPDATE 2: text sizes and colors don´t seem to be working

UPDATE 3: It only works one way, if you edit the post on wp.com, the Google Doc file remains the same :/


Update 4 : Paragraph alignment does not work either but it does detect headings right!  Continue reading Testing Google Docs for WordPress

Building a website with WordPress II (IED 2017/03/15)

Today we will build your website, using your actual content and have it ready at the en of the class, hopefully, for you to continue adding content in the future.

In case you need them, you can find more resources on how to get started here.

I try to user as few technical terms as possible, but here is a detailed Glossary in case you need it.

Calypso VS WP-Admin

The blueish editor we have been using so far is called “Calypso” and is a simplified version fo the normal editor. Today we will be using WordPress´s advanced administrator which you can access by typing /wp-admin after your website´s main domain (www.mrfoxtalbot.wordpress.com/wp-admin) or by clicking here:  Continue reading Building a website with WordPress II (IED 2017/03/15)

Black Mirror, Asimov´s laws of robotics and Anchovy Face.

So, I was watching Black Mirror´s “Hated in the nation” (spoilers ahead). I´d say it has been my favorite episode so far in season 3. I found it a lower key and was more realistic (and hence scarier) than previous episodes in this third season. Continue reading Black Mirror, Asimov´s laws of robotics and Anchovy Face.

Two English Poems

Two English Poems

I

The useless dawn finds me in a deserted street-
corner; I have outlived the night.
Nights are proud waves; darkblue topheavy waves
laden with all the hues of deep spoil, laden with
things unlikely and desirable.
Nights have a habit of mysterious gifts and refusals,
of things half given away, half withheld,
of joys with a dark hemisphere. Nights act
that way, I tell you.
The surge, that night, left me the customary shreds
and odd ends: some hated friends to chat
with, music for dreams, and the smoking of
bitter ashes. The things my hungry heart
has no use for.
The big wave brought you.
Words, any words, your laughter; and you so lazily
and incessantly beautiful. We talked and you
have forgotten the words.
The shattering dawn finds me in a deserted street
of my city.
Your profile turned away, the sounds that go to
make your name, the lilt of your laughter:
these are the illustrious toys you have left me.
I turn them over in the dawn, I lose them, I find
them; I tell them to the few stray dogs and
to the few stray stars of the dawn.
Your dark rich life …
I must get at you, somehow; I put away those
illustrious toys you have left me, I want your
hidden look, your real smile — that lonely,
mocking smile your cool mirror knows.

II

What can I hold you with?
I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the
moon of the jagged suburbs.
I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked
long and long at the lonely moon.
I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts
that living men have honoured in bronze:
my father’s father killed in the frontier of
Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs,
bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in
the hide of a cow; my mother’s grandfather
–just twentyfour– heading a charge of
three hundred men in Peru, now ghosts on
vanished horses.
I offer you whatever insight my books may hold,
whatever manliness or humour my life.
I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never
been loyal.
I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved,
somehow –the central heart that deals not
in words, traffics not with dreams, and is
untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.
I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at
sunset, years before you were born.
I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about
yourself, authentic and surprising news of
yourself.
I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the
hunger of my heart; I am trying to bribe you
with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.

– Jorge Luis Borges (1934)

 

Source: http://www-ccs.cs.umass.edu/cris/texts/two-english-poems.html

Cosas que no me gustan de Calypso

Más aquí:
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