Digital humanities word cloud

Potential for biblical digital humanities with high school, college coders?

When I left a graduate program in applied computation and went away to seminary, I remember having this vision of a custom LaTeX template for sermons. It would format my sermon for pulpit manuscripts, printing, the Web, etc. And it would include a tagging system that would help me better understand my preaching ticks, habits, biases, patterns, etc.

It sounds kind of laughable now. But I remembered this project, and a couple others like it that I’ve imagined over the years, when I read this New Yorker piece on the growing prevalence and accessibility of digital humanities research (hat tip to the Hack Manhattan listserv):

During the previous months, I’d been learning a coding language while trying to develop a project about the aesthetics of classical Arabic poetry. My interests were similar to Henry’s: What could we learn about an author’s oeuvre by studying his or her tics and favorite clichés? What made a certain poem identifiably the product of a person, place, or time, from the perspective of syntax and vocabulary? After class one day, I asked Henry whether he would be interested in collaborating, though I felt sure that he had more interesting things to do with his time. Amazingly, he agreed.

 

We spent the rest of the semester developing an algorithm that could detect different types of rhetorical figures in a large corpus of poetry. It flew through thousands of lines of verse like a drone over a wildlife habitat, snapping pictures of similes, allusions, and metatheses. The program, like the Pliny text generator, produced both epiphanies and duds.

I’m thinking it would be fun to sic some of the simpler natural language processing tools on the text of the Bible in an informal session with some high school or college students who knew enough Python (and enough Bible) to make that fun.

I didn’t take me too long this morning to get the Natural Language Toolkit set up to do some basic concordance work on the Book of Genesis (and the script of Monty Python and the Holy Grail). And that only scratches the surface.

If you know some disciples who might enjoy an activity like this, let me know! I think I can help point you in some fruitful directions.

Image credit: “Digital Humanities Blog Carnival, Presidents Day edition” by Phillipp Barron via Flickr (CC BY-NC 2.0).

Five Minute Posts: The Hacker Within

Today’s topic: compiling in Emacs

Dude! Why didn’t I learn to do this a long time ago? I can’t believe how much it’s helped my productivity. I thought it would be all kinds of work, but that’s not so.

“M-x compile” will open a shell (in your present working directory) and let you edit the default compile command, which is “make -k”. (That’s an intentional outside-the-quotation-marks period, by the way. We’re talking syntax, after all.) Just edit that compile command (something to your compiler if you don’t have a Makefile) and press enter. Your code will be compiled in a special window called “compilation”. Now the super-exciting part. You can use the next-error and previous-error functions to move between the different compiler errors (and warnings). Your cursor jumps automatically to the place in your source code where the compiler’s reporting the error is located. As usual in these situations, I shudder to think about the cumulative time I’ve lost over the last year or so jumping between source code files manually in all the programming setups I’ve tried.

Here’s a screenshot and a link to my new .emacs file. I’ve bound the compile, next-error, and previous-error commands to Ctrl-o, Ctrl-p, and Ctrl-Shift-p, respectively.

(Click to enlarge.)