True story. When I was showing Tom, the new programmer in my group, the Wikipedia (which I wrote about last week), I turned to the entry on Shania Twain (who went to the same high school as I did -- though I'm sure she doesn't remember me!) to demonstrate how anyone can edit a page on a wiki. I had fixed a link to connect the Twain article to the one on Timmins, Ontario (our hometown) and wanted to show Tom how random persons can improve an article. When I clicked on the Timmins, Ontario article, I was shocked to read at the end of the piece

Timmins natives include well-known country singer Shania Twain, b. 1965 and Raymond Yee, Ph.D., b. 1967, technology architect of the Interactive University Project at UC Berkeley. [archived version].

I burst out laughing with gleeful incredulity! I could not have found a better way to illustrate the power/splendor/weirdness of wikis. And no, I didn't write that sentence -- I'm not that egotistical. One of my readers had obviously followed my blog, pulled together various pieces of information about me, and assembled it all to place on the wikipedia! I jumped in the fray and edited the sentence to:

Timmins natives include well-known country singer Shania Twain (b. 1965) and the not-so-well-known-but-well-meaning Raymond Yee, Ph.D. (b. 1967), technology architect of the Interactive University Project at UC Berkeley.

I fully expect someone to clear the article of any references to me. No one is in Shania's league -- let alone someone like me! Actually, I'm surprised that Andreas Hörstemeier, who continues to clean up the Timmins page and who commented "(Fixed links - but is that Raymond Yee really known enough to be listed?)" didn't actually expunge my name from the annals of Timmins. (Let me go add a reference to this blog entry in the discussion page on Timmins.)

Anyone care to fess up here to being the author of this awesome little stunt?

In May 2000, during a retreat for the Session of my church, we were given the exercise of writing a psalm inspired by our reading of Ps 90. This following poem is what I wrote and read to my fellow retreatants. (I've been recently thinking about how little I read my old journals and how much good -- and not so inspiring -- stuff in those journals. There's also a lot of stuff I can "repurpose" for my blog so that I have material on days like this when I'm less than inspired....)

You are God, more infinite than infinite
We theorize about the curvature of the cosmos, the utter limits of observation
And yet you exceed our theories, our sightings, our vision, our ability even to accept

Instant communication is at hand,
myriad bits of information deluge our eyes,
Yet you are closer to us than our own heartbeat

I came into this world a babe
And will exit alone--lights out
But You were before me
And you will be after me
This is how it has always been
And this is how it shall always be.

Our lives should go on fine without you
We eat, sleep, love, work.
Day after day.
Moments of exquisite pleasure break up the monotony, even makes us have kids, be responsible citizens
It's a pain to be conscious
Why can't we be like robots?
Maybe we are robots after all.

I don't know why you would bother with us at all
Though we have made quite a few advances,
we still are puny little creatures in the grand scheme of things
Though we can fly to the moon, impress our image all over the world
boast our fugues to Martians -- we are a red button or a gas tank away from annihilation
A pathetic species we are, aspiring to the heavens one moment,
slitting each others' throats, violating a neighbor's wife the next.

What hope do I have in all this?

I see no answer emblazed in the sky, no buzz via viral marketing
That satisfies.
Yet I am glad for the still small voice that gently nags
and nags and nags
The voice of love that persists.
I thought that it would be easy to make you proud,
To be one who would never betray you
Everyone else was a fraud
And now, I too am found out.

But you still don't go away, do you?
I should be more grateful than I sound.