Often the most interesting part of any design are the parts that are invisible—what was tried but did not work. Sometimes they were unnecessary, other times users didn’t understand them because it was too idiosyncratic, and sometimes we just can’t have nice things.
Some post-mortems of things I tried on Gwern.net but abandoned (in chronological order).
Gitit wiki: I preferred to edit files in Emacs/Bash rather than a GUI/browser-based wiki.
A Pandoc-based wiki using Darcs as a history mechanism, serving mostly as a demo; the requirement that ‘one page edit = one Darcs revision’ quickly became stifling, and I began editing my Markdown files directly and recording patches at the end of each day, and syncing the HTML cache with my host (at the time, a personal directory on code.haskell.org). Eventually I got tired of that and figured that since I wasn’t using the wiki, but only the static compiled pages, I might as well switch to Hakyll and a normal static website approach.
jQuery sausages: unhelpful UI visualization of section lengths.
A UI experiment, ‘sausages’ add a second scroll bar where vertical lozenges correspond to each top-level section of the page; it indicates to the reader how long each section is and where they are. (They look like a long link of pale white sausages.) I thought it might assist the reader in positioning themselves, like the popular ‘floating highlighted Table of Contents’ UI element, but without text labels, the sausages were meaningless. After a jQuery upgrade broke it, I didn’t bother fixing it.
Beeline Reader: a ‘reading aid’ which just annoyed readers.
BLR tries to aid reading by coloring the beginnings & endings of lines to indicate the continuation and make it easier for the reader’s eyes to saccade to the correct next line without distraction (apparently dyslexic readers in particular have issue correctly fixating on the continuation of a line). The A/B test indicated no improvements in the time-on-page metric, and I received many complaints about it; I was not too happy with the browser performance or the appearance of it, either.
I’m sympathetic to the goal and think syntax highlighting aids are underused, but BLR was a bit half-baked and not worth the cost compared more straightforward interventions like reducing paragraph lengths or more rigorous use of ‘structural reading’ formatting. (We may be able to do typography differently in the future with new technology, like VR/AR headsets which come with eye tracking technology intended for foveated rendering—forget simple tricks like emphasizing the beginning of the next line as the reader reaches the end of the current line, do we need ‘lines’ at all if we can do things like just-in-time display the next piece of text in-place to create an ‘infinite line’?)
Google CSE: website search feature which too few people used.
A ‘custom search engine’, a CSE is a souped-up site:gwern.net/ Google search query; I wrote one covering Gwern.net and some of my accounts on other websites, and added it to the sidebar. Checking the analytics, perhaps 1 in 227 page-views used the CSE, and a decent number of them used it only by accident (eg. searching “e”); an A/B testing for a feature used so little would be powerless, and so I removed it rather than try to formally test it.
An early admirer of Tufte-CSS for its sidenotes, I gave a Pandoc plugin a try only to discover a terrible drawback: the CSS didn’t support block elements & so the plugin simply deleted them. This bug apparently can be fixed, but the density of footnotes led to using sidenotes.js instead.
DjVu document format use: DjVu is a space-efficient document format with the fatal drawback that Google ignores it, and “if it’s not in Google, it doesn’t exist.”
DjVu is a document format superior to PDFs, especially standard PDFs: in the past, I used DjVu for documents I produce myself, as it produces much smaller scans than gscan2pdf’s default PDF settings due to a buggy Perl library (at least half the size, sometimes one-tenth the size), making them more easily hosted & a superior browsing experience.
It worked fine in my document viewers (albeit not all despite being 20 years old), Internet Archive & Libgen preferred them (up until 2016 when IA dropped DejaVu), and so why not? Until one day I wondered if anyone was linking them and tried searching in Google Scholar for some. Not a single hit! (As it happens, GS seems to specifically filter out books.) Perplexed, I tried Google—also nothing. Huh‽ My scans have been visible for years, DjVu dates to the 1990s and was widely used (if not remotely as popular as PDF), and G/GS picks up all my PDFs which are hosted identically. What about filetype:djvu? I discovered to my horror that on the entire Internet, Google indexed about 50 DjVu files. Total. While apparently at one time Google did index DjVu files, that time must be long past.
Loathe to take the space hit, which would noticeably increase my Amazon AWS S3 hosting costs, I looked into PDFs more carefully. I discovered PDF technology had advanced considerably over the default PDFs that gscan2pdf generates, and with JBIG2 compression, they were closer to DjVu in size; I could conveniently generate such PDFs using ocrmypdf.1 This let me convert over at moderate cost and now my documents do show up in Google.
Darcs Patch-tag/GithubGit repo: no useful contributions or patches submitted, added considerable process overhead, and I accidentally broke the repo by checking in too-large PDFs from a failed post-DjVu optimization pass (I misread the result as being smaller, when it was much larger).
I removed the site-content repo and replaced it with an infrastructure-specific repo for easier collaboration with Said Achmiz.
A consequence of starting my personal wiki using Gitit was defaulting to long URLs. Gitit encourages you to have filename = title = URL+.html to simplify things. So the “DNB FAQ” page would just be ./DNB FAQ.page as a file on disk, and /DNB%20FAQ.html URL to visit/edit as a rendered page. Then, because I had no opinion on it at the time and it sounded technically-scary to do otherwise (HTTPS, and lots of jargon about subdomains and A or C DNS records), I began hosting pages at http://www.gwern.net. Thus, the final URL would be http://www.gwern.net/DNB%20FAQ.html
long URL/titles rather than single-word slugs, where they are
mixed-case/capitalized words rather than lower-case2, and
space-separated, rather than hyphen-separated (or better yet, single-word), and
files/directories inconsistently pluralized.
All wrong. In retrospect, all of these choices3 were mistakes: Derek Sivers & Sam Hughes were right: I should have made URLs as simple as possible (and then a bit simpler): a single word, lowercase alphanumerical, with no hyphens or underscores or spaces or punctuation of any sort.4 That is, the URL should have been https://gwern.net/dnb or https://gwern.net/faq, if that didn’t risk any confusion—but no longer than https://gwern.net/dnb-faq!
These papercuts would cost me a great deal of effort to fix while remaining backwards-compatible (ie. not breaking tens of thousands of inbound links created over a decade).
Procrastination. The HTTP → HTTPS migration was already inevitable when I began writing a HTTP-using website. Injection attacks by the CCP and ISPs, general concerns over privacy, increasingly heavy-handed penalties & alarming GUI nags by search engines & web browsers… I knew everything was going HTTPS, I just didn’t want to pay for a certificate (Let’s Encrypt did not exist) or figure it out because it’s not like my website in any meaningful way needs the security of HTTPS. Eventually, in November 2016, Cloudflare made it turnkey-easy to enable HTTPS at the CDN level without needing to update my server.
The switch has continued to cause problems due to web browser security policies5, but is worth it—if only so web browsers will stop scaring readers by displaying ugly but irrelevant security warnings!
Spaces in URLs: an OK idea but people are why we can’t have nice things.
Error-prone. I liked the idea of space-separated filenames in terms of readability & semantics, and letting one pun on the filename = title, saving time; I carried this over to Hakyll, but gradually, by monitoring analytics realized this was a terrible mistake—as straightforward as URL-encoding spaces as %20 may seem, no one can do it properly. I didn’t want to fix it because by the time I realized how bad the problem was, it would have required breaking, or later on, redirecting, hundreds of URLs and updating all my pages. The final straw came in September 2017 when The Browser linked a page incorrectly, sending ~1,500 people to the 404 page. Oops.
I gave in and replaced spaces with hyphens. (Underscores are the other viable option6 but because of Markdown, I worry that trades one error for another.)
The next change was migrating from www.gwern.net URLs to just gwern.net.
www is long & old. While I had always had redirects for gwern.net → www.gwern.net so going to the former didn’t result in broken links the way that space-separation did, it still led to problems: people would assume the absence of a www and use those URLs, leading to duplication failures or search problems; particularly on mobile, people would skip it, showing that the extra 4 letters were a nuisance (which frustration I began to understand myself when working on the mobile appearance); it was also more letters for me to constantly be typing while writing out links elsewhere to my site (eg. when providing PDF references); I noticed that web browsers & sites like Twitter increasingly show little of a URL (so the prefix meant you couldn’t see the important part, the actual page!) or suppressed the prefix entirely (leading to confusion); and finally, I began noticing that the prefix increasingly struck me as old in a bad way, smelling like an old unmaintained website that a reader would be discouraged from wanting to visit.
None of these were big problems, but why was I incurring them? What did the prefix do for me? I looked into it a little.
No length benefits. It was indeed old-fashioned and far from universal; of the domains I link, only 40% (2,008 / 4,978) use it, and it seems that usage is declining ~2% per year. It is not a standardized or special subdomain, was not used by the first WWW domain, and was apparently accidental to begin with, so Chesterton’s fence is satisfied. It seemed that the only benefits were that the prefix was useful in a handful of extremely technically narrow ways involving cookie/security or load-balancing minutiae, that I couldn’t see ever applying; it was compatible with more domain name registars, although all of the ones I am likely to use support it already; and it was my status quo, but the migration looked about as simple as flipping a switch in the Cloudflare DNS settings and then doing a big global rewrite (which would be safe because the string is so unique).
So, after stressing out about it for weeks & asking people if there was some reason not to do it that I was missing, I went ahead and did it in January 2023. It was surprisingly easy7, and I immediately appreciated the easier typing.
The final big change to naming practices was to simplify URLs in general: lower-case them all, shorten as much as reasonably mnemonic, and remove pluralization as much as possible—I had been inconsistent about naming, particularly in document directories.
This was for similar reasons as the subdomain, but more so.
Case/plural-insensitivity. Mixed-case URLs are prettier & more readable, but they cause many problems. The use of long mixed-case URLs led to endless 404 errors due to the combinatorial number of possible casings. (Is it ‘Death Note Anonymity’ or ‘Death Note anonymity’? Is it ‘Bitcoin Is Worse Is Better’ or ‘Bitcoin is Worse is Better’ or ‘Bitcoin is worse is better’? etc.) Typing mixed-case is especially miserable on smartphones, where the keyboard is now usually modal so it’s not as simple as holding a Shift key. Setting up individual redirects consumed time—and sometimes would backfire, creating redirect loops or redirecting other pages. The long names meant lots of typing, and shared prefixes like ‘the’ made it harder to avoid typing using tab-completion. I (and readers) would have to guess half-remembered names, and would occasionally screw up by typing a link to /doc/foo.pdf instead of /docs/foo.pdf.
This was a major change, in part because of all the bandaids I had put on the problems caused by the bad URLS—all of the redirects & lint checks I set up for each encountered error would have to be undone or updated—exacerbated by the complexity of the features which had been added to Gwern.net like the backlinks or local-archives, which were propagating stale URLs & other kinds of cache (the other hard problem in CS…) problems. So I only got around to it in February 2023 after the easier fixes were exhausted.
But now the URL for the DNB FAQ ishttps://gwern.net/dnb-faq—easier to type on mobile by at least 6 keystrokes (prefix plus two shifts), consistent, memorable, and timeless.
AdSense banner ads (and ads in general): reader-hostile and probably a net financial loss.
I hated running banner ads, but before my Patreon began working, it seemed the lesser of two evils. As my finances became less parlous, I became curious as to how much lesser—but I could find no Internet research whatsoever measuring something as basic as the traffic loss due to advertising! So I decided to run an A / B test myself, with a proper sample size and cost-benefit analysis; the harm point-estimate turned out to be so large that the analysis was unnecessary, and I removed AdSense permanently the first time I saw the results. Given the measured traffic reduction, I was probably losing several times more in potential donations than I ever earned from the ads. (Amazon affiliate links appear to not trigger this reaction, and so I’ve left them alone.)
Bitcoin/PayPal/Gittip/Flattr donation links: never worked well compared to Patreon.
These methods were either single-shot or never hit a critical mass. One-off donations failed because people wouldn’t make a habit if it was manual, and it was too inconvenient. Gittip/Flattr were similar to Patreon in bundling donators, and making it a regular thing, but never hit an adequate scale.
The original idea of Google Fonts was a trusted high-performance provider of a wide variety of modern, multi-lingual, subsetted drop-in fonts which would likely be cached by browsers if you used a common font. You want a decent Baskerville font? Just customize a bit of CSS and off you go!
The reality turned out to be a bit different. The cache story turned out to be mostly wishful thinking as caches expired too quickly, and in any case, privacy concerns meant that major web browsers all split caches across domains, so a Google Font download on your domain did nothing at all to help with the download on my domain. With no cache help and another domain connection required, Google Fonts turned out to introduce noticeable latency in page rendering. The variety of fonts offered turned out to be somewhat illusory: while expanding over time, its selection of fonts was back then limited, and the fonts outdated or incomplete. Google Fonts was not trusted at all and routinely cited as an example of the invasiveness of the Google panopticon (without any abuse ever documented that I saw—nevertheless, it was), and for additional lulz, Google Fonts may have been declared illegal by the EU’s elastic interpretation of the GDPR.
Removing Google Fonts was one of the first design & performance optimizations Said made. We got both faster and nicer-looking pages by taking the master Github versions of Adobe Source Serif/Sans Pro (the Google Fonts version was both outdated & incomplete then) and subsetting them for Gwern.net specifically.
MathJax JS: switched to static rendering during compilation for speed.
For math rendering, MathJax and KaTeX are reasonable options (inasmuch as MathML browser adoption is dead in the water). MathJax rendering is extremely slow on some pages: up to 6 seconds to load and render all the math. Not a great reading experience. When I learned that it was possible to preprocess MathJax-using pages, I dropped MathJax JS use the same day.
I like the idea of treating English as a little (not a lot!) more like a formal language, such as a programming language, as it comes with benefits like syntax highlighting. In a program, the reader gets guidance from syntax highlighting indicating logical nesting and structure of the ‘argument’; in a natural language document, it’s one damn letter after another, spiced up with the occasional punctuation mark or indentation. (If Lisp looks like “oatmeal with fingernail clippings mixed in” due to the lack of “syntactic sugar”, then English must be plain oatmeal!) One of the most basic kinds of syntax highlighting is simply highlighting strings and other literals vs code: I learned early on that syntax highlighting was worth it just to make sure you hadn’t forgotten a quote or parenthesis somewhere! The same is true of regular writing: if you are extensively quoting or naming things, the reader can get a bit lost in the thickets of curly quotes and be unsure who said what.
I discovered an obscure HTML tag enabled by an obscurer Pandoc setting: the quote tag <q>, which replaces quote characters and is rendered by the browser as quotes (usually). Quote tags are parsed explicitly, rather than just being opaque natural language text blobs, and so they, at least, can be manipulated easily by JS/CSS and syntax-highlighted. Anything inside a pair of quotes would be tinted a gray to visually set it off similarly to the blockquotes. I was proud of this tweak, which I’ve seen nowhere else.
The problems with it was that not everyone was a fan (to say the least); it was not always correct (there are many double-quotes which are not literal quotes of anything, like rhetorical questions); and it interacted badly with everything else. There were puzzling drawbacks: eg. web browsers delete them from copy-paste, so we had to use JS to convert them to normal quotes. Even when it was worked out, all the HTML/CSS/JS had to be constantly rejiggered to deal with interactions with them, browser updates would silently break what was working, and Said hated the look. I tried manually annotating quotes to ensure they were all correct and not used in dangerous ways, but even with interactive regexp search-and-replace to assist, the manual toil of constantly marking up quotes was a major obstacle to writing. So I gave in. It was not meant to be.
Red emphasis is a visual strategy that works wonderfully well for many styles, but not Gwern.net that I could find. Using it on the regular website resulted in too much emphasis and the lack of color anywhere else made the design inconsistent; we tried using it in dark mode to add some color & preserve night vision by making headers/links/drop-caps red, but it looked like, as one reader put it, “a vampire fansite”. It is a good idea, but we just haven’t found a use for it. (Perhaps if I ever make another website, it will be designed around rubrication.)
wikipedia-popups.js: a JS library written to imitate Wikipedia popups, which used the WP API to fetch article summaries; obsoleted by the faster & more general local static link annotations.
I disliked the delay and as I thought about it, it occurred to me that it would be nice to have popups for other websites, like Arxiv/BioRxiv links—but they didn’t have APIs which could be queried. If I fixed the first problem by fetching WP article summaries while compiling articles and inlining them into the page, then there was no reason to include summaries for only Wikipedia links, I could get summaries from any tool or service or API, and I could of course write my own! But that required an almost complete rewrite to turn it into popups.js.
The general popups functionality now handles WP articles as a special-case, which happens to call their API, but could also call another API, pop up the URL in an iframe (whether within the current page, on another page, or even on another website entirely), rewrite the URL being popped up in an iframe (such as trying to fetch a syntax-highlighted version of a linked file, or fetching the Ar5iv HTML version of an Arxiv paper), or fetch a pre-generated page like an annotation or backlinks or similar-links page.
Link screenshot previews: automatic screenshots too low-quality, and unpopular.
To compensate for the lack of summaries for almost all links (even after I wrote the code to scrape various websites), I tried a feature I had seen elsewhere of ‘link previews’: small thumbnail sized screenshots of a web page or PDF, loading using JS when the mouse hovered over a link. (They were much too large, ~50kb, to inline statically like the link annotations.) They gave some indication of what the target content was, and could be generated automatically using a headless browser. I used Chromium’s built-in screenshot mode for web pages, and took the first page of PDFs.
The PDFs worked fine, but the webpages often broke: thanks to ads, newsletters, and the GDPR, countless webpages will pop up some sort of giant modal blocking any view of the page content, defeating the point. (I have extensions installed like AlwaysKillSticky to block that sort of spam, but Chrome screenshot cannot use any extensions or customized settings, and the Chrome devs refuse to improve it.) Even when it did work and produced a reasonable screenshot, many readers disliked it anyway and complained. I wasn’t too happy either about having 10,000 tiny PNGs hanging around. So as I expanded link annotations steadily, I finally pulled the plug on the link previews. Too much for too little.
Link Archiving: my link archiving improved on the link screenshots in several ways. First, SingleFile saves pages inside a normal Chromium browsing instance, which does support extensions and user settings. Killing stickies alone eliminates half the bad archives, ad block extensions eliminate a chunk more, and NoScript blacklists specific domains. (I initially used NoScript on a whitelist basis, but disabling JS breaks too many websites these days.) Finally, I decided to manually review every snapshot before it went live to catch bad examples and either fix them by hand or add them to the blacklist.
Auto-dark mode: a good idea but “users are why we can’t have nice things”.
OSes/browsers have defined a ‘global dark mode’ toggle the user can set if they want dark mode everywhere, and this is available to a web page; if you are implementing a dark mode for your website, it then seems natural to just make it a feature and turn on iff the toggle is on. There is no need for complicated UI-cluttering widgets with complicated implementations. And yet—if you do do that, users will regularly complain about the website acting bizarre or being dark in the daytime, having apparently forgotten that they enabled it (or never understood what that setting meant).
A widget is necessary to give readers control, although even there it can be screwed up: many websites settle for a simple negation switch of the global toggle, but if you do that, someone who sets dark mode at day will be exposed to blinding white at night… Our widget works better than that. Mostly.
Multi-column footnotes: mysteriously buggy and yielding overlaps.
Since most footnotes are short, and no one reads the endnote section, I thought rendering them as two columns, as many papers do, would be more space-efficient and tidy. It was a good idea, but it didn’t work.
Hyphenopoly: it turned out to be more efficient (and not much harder to implement) to hyphenate the HTML during compilation than to run JS client-side.
To work around Google Chrome’s 2-decade-long refusal to ship hyphenation dictionaries on desktop and enable justified text (and incidentally use the better TeXhyphenation algorithm), the JS library Hyphenopoly will download the TeX English dictionary and typeset a webpage itself. While the performance cost was surprisingly minimal, it was there, and it caused problems with obscurer browsers like Internet Explorer.
So we scrapped Hyphenopoly, and I later implemented a Hakyll function using a Haskell version of the TeX hyphenation algorithm & dictionary to insert at compile-time a ‘soft hyphen’ everywhere a browser could usefully break a word, which enables Chrome to hyphenate correctly, at the moderate cost of inlining them and a few edge cases.8
Desktop Chrome finally shipped hyphen support in early 2020, and I removed the soft-hyphen hyphenation pass in April 2021 when CanIUse indicated >96% global support.
Knuth-PlassLine breaking: not to be confused with Knuth-Liang hyphenation discussed before, which simply optimizes the set of legal hyphens, Knuth-Plass line breaking tries to optimize the actual chosen linebreaks.
Particularly on narrow screens, justified text does not fit well, and must be distorted to fit, by microtypographictechniques like inserting spaces between/within words or changing glyph size. The default line breaking that web browsers use is a bad one: it is a greedy algorithm, which produces many unnecessary poor layouts, causing many stretched out words and blatant rivers. This bad layout gets worse the narrower the text, and so on Gwern.net lists on mobile, there are a lot of bad-looking list items when fully-justified with greedy layout.
Knuth-Plass instead looks at paragraphs as a whole, and calculates every possible layout to pick the best one. As can be seen in any TeX output, the results are much better. Knuth-Plass (or its competitors) would solve the justified mobile layout problem.
Unfortunately, no browser implements any such algorithm (aside from a brief period where Internet Explorer, of all browsers, apparently did); there is a property in CSS4, text-wrap: pretty, which might someday be implemented somehow by some browsers and be Knuth-Plass, but no one has any idea when or how. And doing it in JavaScript is not an option, because the available JS prototypes fail on Gwern.net pages. (Bramstein’s typeset explicitly excludes lists and blockquotes, Bramstein commenting in 2014 that “This is mostly a tech-demo, not something that should be used in production. I’m still hopeful browser will implement this functionality natively at some point.” Knight’s tex-linebreak suffers from fatal bugs too. Matthew Petroff has a demo which uses the brilliantly stupid brute-force approach of pre-calculating offline the Knuth-Plass linebreaks for every possible width—after all, monitor widths can only range ~1–4000px with the ‘readable’ range one cares about being a small subset of that—but it’s unclear, to say the least, how I’d ever use such a thing for Gwern.net, and doubtless has serious bugs of its own.) There are also questions about whether the performance on long pages would be acceptable, as the JS libraries rely on inserting & manipulating a lot of elements in order to force the browser to break where it should break, but those are largely moot when the prototypes are so radically incomplete. (My prediction is that the cost would be acceptable with some optimizations and constraints like considering a maximum of n lines.)
So the line breaking situation is insoluble for the foreseeable future. We decided to disable full justification on narrow screens, and settle for ragged-right.
Autopager keyboard shortcuts: binding Home/PgUp & End/PgDwn keyboard shortcuts to go to the ‘previous’/‘next’ logical page turned out to be glitchy & confusing.
HTML supports previous/next attributes (rel="prev" / "next") on links which specify what URL is the logical next or previous URL, which makes sense in many contexts like manuals or webcomics/web serials or series of essays; browsers make little use of this metadata—typically not even to preload the next page! (Opera apparently was one of the few exceptions.)
Such metadata was typically available in older hypertext systems by default, and so older more reader-oriented interfaces like pre-Web hypertext readers such info browsers frequently overloaded the standard page-up/down keybindings to, if one was already at the beginning/ending of a hypertext node, go to the logical previous/next node. This was convenient, since it made paging through a long series of info nodes fast, almost as if the entire info manual were a single long page, and it was easy to discover: most users will accidentally tap them twice at some point, either reflexively or by not realizing they were already at the top/bottom (as is the case on most info nodes due to egregious shortness). In comparison, navigating the HTML version of an info manual is frustrating: not only do you have to use the mouse to page through potentially dozens of 1-paragraph pages, each page takes noticeable time to load (because of failure to exploit preloading) whereas a local info browser is instantaneous.
After defining a global sequence for Gwern.net pages, and adding a ‘navbar’ to the bottom of each page with previous/next HTML links encoding that sequence, I thought it’d be nice to support continuous scrolling through Gwern.net, and wrote some JS to detect whether at the top/bottom of page, and on each Home/PgUp/End/PgDwn, whether that key had been pressed in the previous 0.5s, and if so, proceed to the previous/next page.
This worked, but proved buggy and opaque in practice, and tripped up even me occasionally. Since so few people know about that pre-WWW hypertext UI pattern (as useful as it is), would be unlikely to discover it, or use it much if they did discover it, I removed it.
.smallcaps-auto class: the typography of Gwern.net relies on “smallcaps”. We use smallcaps extensively as an additional form of emphasis going beyond italic, bold, and capitalization (and this motivated the switch from system Baskerville fonts to Source Serif Pro fonts). For example, keywords in lists can be emphasized as bold 1st top-level, italics 2nd level, and smallcaps 3rd level, making them much easier to scan.
However, there are other uses of smallcaps: acronyms/initials. 2 capital letters, like “AM”, don’t stand out; but names like “NASA” or phrases like “HTML/CSS” stick out for the same reason that writing in all-caps is ‘shouting’—capital letters are big! Putting them in smallcaps to condense them is a typographic refinement recommended by some typographers.9
Manually annotating every such case is a lot of work, even using interactive regexp search-and-replace. After a month or two, I resolved to do it automatically in Pandoc. So I created a rewrite plugin which would regexes on every string in the Pandoc AST for hits, split, and annotate the match in a HTML span element marked up with the .smallcaps-auto class, which was styled by CSS like the existing .smallcaps class. (Final code version.)
Doing so using Pandoc’s tree traversal library proved to be highly challenging due to a bunch of issues, and slow (I believe it doubled website compilation times due to the extravagant inefficiency of the traversal code & cost of running complex regexps on every possible node repeatedly). The rewrite approach meant that spans could be nested repeatedly, generating pointless <span><span><span>... sequences (only partially ameliorated by more rewrite code to detect & remove those). The smallcaps regex was also hard to get right, and constantly sprouted new special-cases and exceptions. The injected span elements caused further complications downstream as they would break pattern-matches or add raw HTML to text I was not expecting to have raw HTML in it. The smallcaps themselves had many odd side-effects, like interactions with italics & link drop-shadow trick necessary for underlined links. The speed penalty did not stop at the website compilation, but affected users: Gwern.net pages are already intensive on browsers because of the extensive hyperlinks & formatting yielding a final large DOM (each atom of which caused additional load from the also-expanding set of JS & CSS), and the smallcaps markup added hundreds of additional DOM nodes to some pages. I also suspect that the very visibility of smallcaps contributed to the sense of “too fancy” or “overload” that many Gwern.net readers complain about: even if they don’t explicitly notice the smallcaps are smallcaps, they still notice that there is something unusual about all the acronyms. (If smallcaps were much more common, this would stop being a problem; but it is a problem and will remain one for as long as smallcaps are an exotic typographic flourish which must be explicitly enabled for each instance.)
The last straw was a change in annotations for Gwern.net essays to include their Table of Contents for easier browsing, where the ToCs in annotations got smallcaps-auto but the original ToCs did not (simply because the original ToCs are generated by Pandoc long after the rewrites are done, and are inaccessible to Pandoc plugins), creating an inconsistency and requiring even more CSS workarounds. At this point, with Said not a fan of smallcaps-auto and myself more than a little fed up, we decided to cut our losses and scrap the feature.
I still think that the idea of automatically using smallcaps for all-caps phrases like acronyms is valid—especially in technical writing, an acronym soup is overwhelming!—but the costs of doing so in the HTML DOM as CSS/HTML markup is too high for both writers & readers. It may make more sense for this sort of non-semantic change to be treated as a ligature and done by the font instead, which will have more control of the layout and avoid the need for special-cases. With smallcaps automatically done by the font, it can become a universal feature of online text, and lose its unpleasant unfamiliarity.
A commenting system was the sine qua non of blogs in the 2000s, but they required either a server to process comments (barring static websites) or an extortionately-expensive service using oft-incompatible plugins (barring blogging); they were also one of the most reliable ways (after being hacked thanks to WordPress) to kill a blog by filling it up with spam. Disqus helped disrupt incumbents by providing spam-filtering in a free JS-based service; while proprietary and lightly ad-supported at the time, it had some nice features like email moderation, and it supported the critical features of comment exports & anonymous comments. It quickly became the default choice for static websites which wanted a commenting system—like mine.
I set up Gwern.net’s Disqus in 2010-10-10; I removed it 4,212 days later, on 2022-04-21 (archive of comment exports).
There was no single reason to scrap Disqus, just a steady accumulation of minor issues:
Shift to social media: the lively blogosphere of the 2000s gave way in the 2010s to social media like Digg, Twitter, Reddit, Facebook—even in geek circles, momentum moved from on-blog comments to aggregators like Hacker News.
While there are still blogs with more comments on them than aggregators (eg. SlateStarCodex/Astral Codex Ten or LessWrong), this was increasingly only possible with a discrete community which centered on that blog. The culture of regular unaffiliated readers leaving comments is gone. I routinely saw aggregator:site comment ratios of >100:1. In the year before removal, I received 134 comments across >900,000 pageviews. For comparison, the last front-page Hacker News discussion had 254 comments, and the last weekly Astral Codex Ten ‘open thread’ discussion has >6× comments.
So, now I add links to those social media discussions in the “External Links” sections of pages to serve the purpose that the comment section used to. If no one is using the Disqus comments, why bother? (Much less move to an alternative like Commento, which costs >$100/year.) I am not the first blogger to observe that their commenting system has become vestigial, and remove it.
Monetization decay: it is a law of Internet companies that scrappy disruptive startups become extractive sclerotic incumbents as the VC money runs out & investors demand a return.
Disqus never became a unicorn and was eventually acquired by some sort of ad company. The new owners have not wrecked it the way many acquisitions go (eg. SourceForge), but it is clearly no longer as dynamic or invested-in as it used to, the spam-filtering seemed to occasionally fall behind the attackers, and the Disqus-injected advertising has gradually gotten heavier.
Many Disqus-user websites are unaware that Disqus lets you disable advertising on your website (it’s buried deep in the config), but Disqus’s reputation for advertising is bad enough that readers will accuse you of having Disqus ads anyway! (I think they look at one of the little boxes/page-cards for other pages on the same website which Disqus provides as recommendations, and without checking each one, assume that the rest are ads.) My ad experiments only investigated the harms of real advertising, so I don’t know how bad the effect of fake ads is—but I doubt it’s good.
odd bugs: One example of this decay is that I could never figure out why some Disqus comments on Gwern.net just… disappeared.
They weren’t casualties of page renames changing the URL, because comments disappeared on pages that had never been renamed. They weren’t deleted, because I knew I didn’t & the author would complain about me deleting them so they didn’t either. They weren’t marked as spam in the dashboard (as odd as retroactive spam-filtering would be, given that they had been approved initially). In fact, they weren’t anywhere in the dashboard that I could see, which made reporting issues to Disqus rather odd (and given the Disqus decay, I lacked faith that reporting bugs would help). The only way I knew they existed was if I had a URL to them (because I linked them as a reference) or if I could retrieve the original Disqus email of the comment.
So there are people out there who have left critical comments on Gwern.net, and are convinced that I deleted the comments to censor them and cover up what an intellectual fraud I am. Less than ideal. (One benefit of outsourcing comments to social media is that if someone is blamed for a bug, it won’t be me.)
dark mode: Disqus was designed for the 2000s, not the 2020s. Starting in the late 2010s, “dark mode” became a fad, driven mostly by smartphone use of web browsers in night-time contexts.
Disqus has some support for dark mode patched in, but it doesn’t integrate seamlessly into a website’s native customized dark mode. Since we put a lot of effort into making Gwern.net’s dark mode great, Disqus was a frustration.
Performance: Disqus was never lightweight. But the sheer weight of all of the (dynamic, uncached) JS & CSS it pulled in, filled with warnings & errors, only seemed to grow over the years.
Even with all of the features added to Gwern.net, I think the Disqus continued to outweigh it. Much of the burden looked to have little to do with commenting, and more to do with ads & tracking. It was frustrating to struggle with performance optimizations, only for any gains to be blown away as soon as the Disqus loaded, or during debugging, see the browser dev console rendered instantly unreadable.
It helped to use tricks like IntersectionObserver to avoid loading Disqus until the reader scrolled to the end of the page, but these brought their own problems. (Getting IntersectionObserver to work at all was tricky, and this trick creates new bugs: for example, I can only use 1 IntersectionObserver at a time without it breaking mysteriously; or, if a user clicks on a URL containing a Disqus ID anchor like #comment-123456789, when Disqus has not loaded then that ID cannot exist and so the browser will load the page & not jump to the comment. As we have code to check for wrong anchors, this further causes spurious errors to be logged.) The weight of these wasn’t too bad (the Gwern.net side of Disqus was only ~250 lines of JS, 20 lines of CSS, & 10 of HTML), but the added complexity of interactions was.
Poor integration: Disqus increasingly just does not fit into Gwern.net and cannot be made to.
The dark mode & performance problems are examples of this, but it goes further. For example, the Disqus comment box does not respect the Gwern.net CSS and always looked lopsided because it did not line up with the main body. Disqus does not ‘know’ about page moves, so comments would be lost when I moved pages (which deterred me from ever renaming anything). Dealing with spam comments was annoying but had no solution other than locking down comments, defeating the point.
As the design sophistication increases, the lack of control becomes a bigger fraction of the remaining problems.
So eventually, a straw broke the camel’s back and I removed Disqus.
A major Gwern.net site feature is the ‘link icons’ appended to links as symbolic annotations. The link-icons are comprehensive, covering hundreds of different cases.
The standard CSS solution which uses regexps to match URLs at runtime inside client browsers, while fine for simple uses, scales poorly in correctness, maintainability, and performance.
We eventually switched to a compile-time solution where URLs are given attributes specify what (if any) their link-icon can be, which allows easy definition of complex rules, unit-testing to guarantee the results are correct, and client-side rendering is limited to simply reading & rendering the attribute; this approach has been easy to write correct rules in, easy to keep rules correct, and will always be lightweight for clients.
They are inspired primarily by Wikipedia WP’s default skin largely confines link icons to denoting PDFs10 (still unpleasant & problematic for readers, who appreciate the warning), ‘external links’ outside Wikipedia (a usage common elsewhere, and the little arrow or arrow-in-box has become a universally accepted icon), language annotations like warning that a link is not in English but written in Japaneseja or Germande; other WP skins like Monobook (which was my favored skin for a decade) offer a richer set of link-icons, but few readers ever see them, and link-icons seem to be gradually disfavored these days as part of the general dumbing-down of interfaces.
Because Gwern.net relies so heavily on references & citations and features far more data formats than your typical blog, and plain links result in reader overload, I’ve gone far beyond WP link-icons. With a little thought, you can convey an identity—or at least a ‘topic’—with a link-icon, beating the heck out of a bland underlined hyperlink in a sea of underlines. Done right, link-icons do not clutter a page too much, and offer an invaluable summary at a glance for the power-reader once they’ve learned some of the associations. (Being so compact, they work particularly well in popups in helping the reader understand if they want to drill down into a particular link.)
The standard approach to implementing link-icons, which is the one suggested by WP for editor customizations and described in the usual blog posts, is to treat link-icons as a regular expression problem: if you want a link-icon on PDFs, you do a regexp like .*\.pdf$ which matches the string “.pdf” at the end of a URL, and then this enables a little text string, or an image, to be plopped on the tail end as an ::after CSS property. So something like this, for each link-icon you want:
a[href$="\.pdf"]::after { content: "PDF"; }
This is straightforward, old CSS which is universally supported, handles images about as easily as text or Unicode (Unicode can be an excellent way to avoid needing images), and is the approach Gwern.net used initially to denote PDF & Wikipedia links.
This approach has problems beyond finicky styling details like line-breaking splitting the icon from the link. First, it can be hard to get the regexp right: the above regexp is wrong in multiple ways—it would not match my many PDF links which specify a page number, because they would have the form foo.pdf#page=N. So you need to match that case, or loosen it to infix matching like .*\.pdf.*.11 Which will hit any URLs which happen to have the string .pdf in them without being a PDF link, and still won’t match many URLs which actually are PDFs, like some academic publishers will write their PDF URLs as something like https://publisher.com/pdf/12345, which will serve you a PDF with the appropriate MIMEmedia typeHTTP header, but won’t match that regexp. (Or worse, they put the PDF inside a HTML wrapper+iframe, so headers aren’t enough…)
Let’s say you have a PDF regexp you are satisfied with12, and you’ve created an Arxiv link-icon as well, because that’s informative to a reader, and now you notice that your many Arxiv PDF links to specific pages are less than ideal: either you prefer the Arxiv link-icon but they’re getting generic PDF link-icons, or maybe you prefer the PDF link-icon but the Arxiv is overriding it. You eventually figure out that the ‘overriding’ was simply because of CSS rules about ‘the longest and most specific rule wins’ (to simplify drastically), and one rule happened to be longer. You need to modify the regexps. Fortunately, there are still more CSS features which allow you to negate the match, like :not(), so you can write ‘has “pdf” in it but not “arxiv.org”’.
You do this, and more link-icons show up. You notice you are linking a lot of DeepMind papers on Arxiv, and it would be helpful for machine-learning-savvy readers to be more specific than just an Arxiv symbol and mark the ones that are ‘DeepMind’ affiliated.13 This can be done in an easy link-icon-friendly way by overloading identifiers, and appending a hash to the URL, like #deepmind. So now a DM Arxiv paper might look like https://arxiv.org/abs/1610.09027#deepmind. This is pleasant to read, surprisingly handy when searching or skimming, doesn’t break the URL (just triggers spurious anchor-missing warnings in linkcheckers), and doesn’t require any site tooling or databases tracking metadata. You can also combine it with page numbers, to get a URL like https://arxiv.org/pdf/1809.11096.pdf#page=8&org=deepmind. You can match on #deepmind uniquely, and override the PDF or Arxiv selectors with more sprinklings of regexps & conditionals. This trick works for all organizations I’d like to track, like Facebook, OpenAI, Microsoft, Baidu, etc; and if you want to track another kind of per-URL metadata conveniently encoded into the URL itself, it works just as well there. So far so good!
Only now, bugs are starting to hit regularly, and each time you add another reasonable link-icon, another small little CSS rule, another tweak, another sensible exception which the reader would expect, you risk triggering a cascade of problems: this link-icon used to be right, and now it’s wrong; this new one you couldn’t get working until you started tacking on meaningless conditionals to try to coax CSS into applying it by the ‘longest one wins’; this one puzzles you because you need to insert a link-icon ‘in between’ priority levels like ‘PDF’ vs ‘Arxiv’ but now you have to rewrite a whole bunch; and sometimes they break for no apparent reason, and you only discover long afterwards while happening to look at an old post. (Do you want to add a .icon-not class to occasionally disable a link-icon on particularly problematic links? Absolutely not, you’d have to add :not() selectors to everything and risk the house of cards collapsing again.) What worked almost perfectly for one or two link-icons begins to fall apart due to the combinatorial global interaction. Nor is it clear how you would test your current set of rules aside from the crude approach of creating a page just to list a bunch of links and scan them by eye every time you change link-icons by the slightest bit, since any tweak could potentially wreck a fragile cascade of rules/exceptions/lengths.
There’s another problem you begin to notice when you have scores to hundreds of rules: it’s getting slower. You are writing CSS rules for each link-icon, and these link-icons have ever more conditionals/selectors encoded in them (rapidly expanding due to the interactions & ad hoc nature of additions/patches), and they have to be run on every link, no matter what. Every page must pay the price for every link for every link-icon. This wasn’t a problem when you were writing little 500-word blog posts with one or two links, if that, but as one’s ambitions expand to 10,000+ word essays with hundreds of links and citations… Eventually, especially on long pages, the page-load overhead becomes noticeable. (CSS is not free!)
Said Achmiz came up with an approach that was, as far as he knew, novel in this context (although it has parallels in other areas): switch from many separate global regexp-matching rules which must be deconflicted, to running a single largenested rule which specifies the link-icon image or text. Then the CSS does only styling, avoiding any more complex logic.
The first phase prototyped this with a JavaScript implementation which implemented the CSS and then JS functions (with a small test-suite), and converted the existing mass of CSS rules (covering ~160 classes of links) into a single giant rule.
The JS implementation demonstrated that the concept was sound, and once the details had been worked out, it was clear that it would be even better to move it to compile-time—after all, it’s not like any of the link-icon assignments were going to change inside reader browsers, so the late-binding was nothing but waste. (This is a common cycle on Gwern.net: do something in ‘raw’ CSS/JS as much as possible, incrementally build up a large corpus of usecases/examples driven by the website’s needs, and once the problem is well-understood after a few years, only then rewrite to compile-time. The coding is easy—knowing what to design the code to do that is the hard part.)
With the JS as a clear reference, I could switch to a Pandoc Haskell library where each link is processed at compile-time through the usual Pandoc API apparatus by, similar to the JS, a single function which is a mega-list of rules in order of priority: “if has the string ‘DeepMind’ in it anywhere, then it gets the DeepMind icon; otherwise, if it’s an Arxiv.org, it gets Arxiv (even if it’s a PDF); etc”.
This can be tested by creating a simple little test-suite which runs the rules on a DeepMind URL, an Arxiv URL, an Arxiv PDF URL, and a regular PDF URL—if any URL gets the wrong result, then it errors out immediately and can be fixed.
When a link does match a rule, the rule specifies two pieces of data: one specifies the appearance, and the other specifies the content. These are encoded into the HTML as two data- attributes set on the <a> element itself. So a DeepMind URL would get <a href="https://arxiv.org/abs/1610.09027#deepmind" data-link-icon="deepmind" data-link-icon-type="svg">foo</a>. Because we are doing this at compile-time, we can automatically generate the CSS specifying where the necessary SVG is to be found:14
We wouldn’t want to have to create an SVG for every link15, so there are a number of other options: acronyms are particularly common, so one can set the data-link-icon content to be a text string like ‘NBC’ and then since NBC styles its acronym in sans serif rather than Gwern.net’s default serif, we override that with data-link-icon-type="text, sans" as the type. (A number of other styles are supported: monospace, italics, 3-letter words, 4-letter words arranged as 2×2 blocks…) All links are processed this way.
At runtime in the web browser, the CSS does not do any ‘thinking’. It simply goes through every <a> in the page, and looks for the two attributes.
Because of a relatively new CSS feature, this can be used to read a specific URL, in this case, our set of SVG icons stored. For the argument deepmind, it goes to look up the value of --link-icon-url, which of course was already defined to be /static/img/icon/deepmind.svg, and that gets substituted in, and ::after runs as if we had written it the old way—but without having to run a rats-nest of hundreds of regexps on every link to eventually figure out that it matches ‘DeepMind’. We don’t actually need to write by hand any CSS referring to deepmind, unless we decide it doesn’t look quite right by default and we need to adjust it, which we can do, and do:
So this resolves all the problems. It is easy to write a rule, because I have all my familiar Haskell tooling and can test the entire set in the REPL, and the test-suite will alert me of any regressions; because it is so easy to write, I have added ~400 link-icons. It is fast for the client, because all the computation is done ahead of time, and in a way which avoids interactions or exponentials due to abuse of regexps. And it is even more featureful, because the factorizing of content from appearance via variables means it’s easy to support stylization features like 2×2 blocks which would have been too tedious to implement one by one on the hundreds of instances. (It also works correctly with the local link-archive feature: it simply applies the rule to the original URL rather than the rewritten URL, which was saved in an attribute.)
~130 example Gwern.net link-icons.
With the static LinkIcon.hs approach, adding a new text icon with its corresponding test can be as simple as two lines taking a minute max:
-- u'' matches a single whole domain (excluding prefix); other help functions match multiple domains,-- anywhere in URL, or by extension.+| u'' "thelastpsychiatrist.com"= aI "TLP""text,tri,sans"…+ , ("https://thelastpsychiatrist.com/2011/01/why_chinese_mothers_are_not_su.html", "TLP", "text,tri,sans")
This defines a low-precedence rule matching a particular blog, giving it an instantly-recognizable link-icon (at least, to anyone to whom ‘The Last Psychiatrist’ would mean anything), requiring no editing of the site content (it automatically applies to all existing links to that domain), which will look appropriate (neither too large nor too small, and in sans), automatically test itself for correctness every site build & break if not (the rule is so simple to write that it started off correct and has never broken), and will continue checking correctness if I do a site-wide rewrite of the domain (as I have in fact done because it moved to HTTPS at some point).
Further, because the rules are available at compile-time rather than left implicit in the browser at runtime, I can add nifty features, like a ‘domain prioritizer’: run every link on Gwern.net through the rules, look at all links which do not have any link-icons, group by their domain name, and if there are any domains with >3 links and neither a link-icon nor on the blacklist of deliberately no-icon domains (often no icon is feasible), print out a message suggesting that the domain be checked. This keeps the suite comprehensive over time, further lessening the maintenance burden—I only have to think about link-icons when the link-icon code tells me to.
My original linkrot fighting approach was reactive: detect linkrot, fix broken links with their new links or with Internet Archive backups, and use bots to ensure that they were all archived by IA in advance. This turned out to miss some links when IA didn’t get them, so I added on local archiving tools to make local snapshots. This too turned out to be inadequate, sometimes missing URLs, and just being a lot of work to fix each link when it broke (sometimes repeatedly). Eventually, I had to resort to preemptive local link archiving: make & check & use local archives of every link when they are added, instead of waiting for them to break and dealing with breakage manually in a labor-intensive grinding way.
In 2021, we attempted to implement outbound link tracking on links to Google/Google Scholar to see if they were being clicked on enough to justify their taking up space at the top of popups.
I ran a quick Twitter poll, asking
Site usage poll: on link popups, there are helper links helper links to the Internet Archive and Google/Google Scholar, in case the reader wants to go to an IA archive or do reverse citation links (either by DOI or by link: in Google16).
[Poll image: the helper links pointed out with big black arrows.]
Have you ever clicked on one & found it useful? [n = 127]
Yes: 41.7% [n = 53]
No: 58.3% [n = 74]
I had been hoping for some clearly definitive result like 90% answering ‘never’, but this was ambiguous: 60% never using it is not great, considering that they are on thousands of annotations & I expect anyone interested in my Twitter account to have popped-up hundreds of annotations; but it’s also not that much space on an annotation, and 40% still used it at least once.
So we decided to get harder data. In theory, tracking the GS/G/IA links was easy: there is even a simple HTML ping attribute to set on <a> links for this exact purpose. ping is disabled in FF but supposedly enabled on Safari / Chrome (93% of global users in 2023-03), which represent the overwhelming majority of Gwern.net readers. Said implemented it, it seemed to work on his server, but returned 0 clicks across >8,000 pageviews initially, and when I tested it myself, only 1⁄15 of my own clicks seemed to be registering properly! We couldn’t figure out what was going wrong with ping—it looked like we were using it in a textbook way, but nada. Had it been quietly disabled? Was there some obscure cross-origin security policy issue? Whatever.
So we reverted to Google Analytics JS-based outbound link tracking (as invasive as that is compared to setting an attribute on just the links we were interested in)17, and… we were seeing many regular outbound links, but zero search links. Did the popups interfere with it? Was it not working? Or were the links that unpopular? We couldn’t debug that either.
Frustrated with the opacity of the logging problems, I decided that the links were clutter, and removed them.
I would eventually wind up restoring them when recursive popups+transclusion let me add the similar-links as a popup inside annotation popups, and then it was logical to append the G/GS (plus some more) links to the bottom of the similar-links—anyone scrolling that far could use a search engine link to look for more similar links, and it didn’t take up space in the initial popup.
We’ve been interested in reader usage rate of some features since then, but our bad experience with ping & GA has deterred us from trying again.
The most technically complex & signature feature of Gwern.net are the on-hover popups & on-click popins, which provide metadata and extensive annotations/summaries/hyperlinking. Some websites provide limited popup functionality, like Wikipedia, but are missing entire swathes of functionality.
This is because good popups are hard both to design and implement. The Gwern.net annotation system didn’t spring into being overnight fully-formed; indeed, depending on how you count, the March 2023 system is no less than the 7th popup system we have implemented. (The jokes “time is a flat circle” and “all this has happened before, and will happen again” were made repeatedly during development.) But at that point, we have a fast, flexible, debugged, good-looking system which we see no major flaws in, and future work will be focused on the content which goes into popups (such as by using machine learning to automatically write summaries); so it’s worth writing up the evolution.
Back in 2009, as I wound down my Wikipedia editing activities in an ever more deletionist climate and began focusing on writing my own material for my own website (I’d go make my own WP, with blackjack & blockquotes), I began considering the problem of how to write references & links.
Should I use Zotero, a popular open-source academic bibliography tool with web browser integration? I had used Zotero for some of my Wikipedia editing, where it saved me a lot of time in generating the (sometimes extremely) complicated MediaWiki markup for a ‘proper’ academic-style citation of books & webpages. This was particularly useful in editing topics with many articles but a few central references, like Neon Genesis Evangelion-related pages. But it had struck me as rather complex and designed for BibTeX/CiteProc & old-fashioned academic writing; a tremendous amount of effort was spent on the minutiae of formatting citation entries in a myriad of styles, each almost the same but not quite. It was clear that unless you planned to write a lot of LaTeX papers for academic journals, these were not for you. They presumed that the fundamental unit was the all-important citation (in its infinite slight variants for insertion into bibliographies) with the existence of fulltext considered the reader’s problem, while I thought the fundamental unit is the link of a fulltext resource (and ‘citations’ are merely an inconvenient way to present the metadata about the fulltext link18). Meanwhile, there was no thought given to ‘web native’ material like linking comments, individual PDF pages or sections, supplementary material, social media like YouTube videos or Twitter comments, etc. I found this hopelessly obsolete and any system based on BibTeX likely to continue to fritter away my time forever, as it would be intended for academic PDFs and not HTML essays.
I was going to use Pandoc, which includes built-in support through its citeproc set of libraries for BibTeX. Was that worth doing? I had not looked into citeproc much while using Pandoc, but I had noticed that citeproc seemed to trigger the largest volume of support emails to the Pandoc mailing lists—so much so that I had written a Gmail filter to delete them. If I was going to use BibTeX, perhaps I would’ve used citeproc, but between my discontent with Zotero/BibTeX and concern over the sheer level of citeproc issues, I scrapped the idea entirely.
No other alternatives seemed especially appealing. The most tempting was org-mode, which was intriguing as I already used Emacs, but looked like too much of a commitment to an “org-mode way of life” and I didn’t want to dive into the rabbit hole when I was just trying to do some writing.
So, rather than obsessively search for ‘the optimal bibliography’, I began writing with the simplest possible bibliographical tool: none. Just hyperlinks, thank you. I’d solve the problem later, if it was worth solving; until then, ‘gradual automation’.
The first ‘popup system’ was a straightforward use of HTML tooltips.
After a while, I noticed that it was hard to search for references I needed again: if I had explicitly included the title/author/date in the visible text, that was fine (eg. something like ["Title"](URL), Author Date would be easily refindable) but if I had simply written it inline in ‘standard hyperlink style’, it could be difficult to refind. And if the URL had link-rotted, it could be an ordeal to figure out what even it was in order to find a working link! (Many links would not be in the IA, and even if they were, that could take a lot of time.)
Fortunately, I didn’t have to rewrite every link as a formal ‘bibliography’ or contort my writing to jam titles in everywhere. HTML, and Markdown, have always supported natively a “title” attribute on links, which is compatible with everything, doesn’t require JS etc; these are quite familiar, they are just the little fragments of text that pop up when you mouse over a link. You’ve seen a million of them, even if you couldn’t tell me the name of them or explain how they differ from an alt attribute or where else besides an <a> link you could use a title= attribute. They also have a readable, simple Markdown syntax, just a quote after the URL: [text](URL "Title"). This required no changes to Hakyll, Pandoc, or Gwern.net, and was simply a change to the Markdown sources on an as-needed basis.
This solved my problem with search & archiving: I could simply put in the title, or if I was feeling fancy, put the title in single quotes and include the author/date as well. (So it’d read [text](URL "‘Title’, Author Date").)19
I also found it helpful while reading, as I could just hover over a link and see the citation instantly. Because I could rely on the tooltips, I could remove more of the bulky explicit citations.
And the more I used them, the more I wanted to use them—tooltip length limits are browser-dependent but typically highly generous compared to a title+author+date, letting you use hundreds or thousands of characters. Often, I only need a few sentences from a link, and I could pack in an entire tweet if I wanted to, sparing the reader the unpleasantness of clicking through to Twitter itself (an increasingly hostile experience to non-logged-in readers). Why not… put them into the tooltip? So I did.
This led to a tolerable status quo, but there were 3 major downsides:
HTML tooltips are, by design, brutally simple. They will show plain (UTF-8) text, and that is it.
You cannot put in HTML tags for anything, not even if you want italics, so book titles get rendered the same as regular titles (if you do put in HTML tags, they are rendered literally, like <em>Great Expectations</em>, Dickens 1861); you cannot style them with CSS; you cannot interact with them, like to copy a citation; and you definitely cannot make any links inside a tooltip clickable or have a ‘tooltip within a tooltip’. (You can modify them with JS, as they are just attributes, but there’s not much you can do with that.)
Tooltips are written independently, which is simple, but redundant.
I was doing a lot of copy-paste of tooltip entries because there was no mechanism to associate a tooltip with a URL. Aside from the toil of copy-paste, this caused minor problems: Markdown sources became much larger, URLs/tooltips would become inconsistent as one instance was fixed but not the others, duplication would creep in…
Ad hoc tags, indexes, and lists:
The lack of any kind of queryable database meant I was increasingly maintaining ad hoc manual lists & ‘dump’ pages—I would see a relevant URL and have to edit an essay to add it, so I could look it up again.
I was going to have to do something, but I kept procrastinating. There was still no clear easy existing solution to the overall bibliography problem.
I could see a solution I’d want to implement… The solution I wanted would be to simply create a centralized database (perhaps just a text file) of URL/metadata/excerpts, and then generate a page for each URL, and pop up that instead of a text tooltip. It could be so beautiful, as the reader hovered over each citation, instantly seeing the relevant excerpts, clicking on the fulltext link as necessary, or popping up another link inside the popup, recursively. It was the sort of reading experience I wished I could have always experienced—the obviously correct way to implement hypertext, compared to clunky attempts like Project Xanadu with their awkward use of multiple columns. My writing tic of extensive blockquotes was a poor compromise between my desire to make the relevant text as easily available as possible for people as fascinated by a topic as me, and having a readable page; using popups & collapses in a hierarchy of priority for ‘structural reading’ would let me have my cake & eat it too. (Whenever I implemented a simple version of this as an ‘annotated’ excerpt of a paper, where I’d excerpt the key parts into a big blockquote, hyperlink each citation to a working fulltext URL and jailbreaking them as necessary, and using the tooltip trick to encode their metadata, I always found the final annotated version highly useful—and other people would remark on how much better it was than the usual approach.)
But I was terrified of how much time & effort it would suck up. Implementing it would require JS/CSS well above my level, and then I could spend the rest of my life writing tooling for it, tweaking it, and writing annotations by hand for the tens of thousands of links I already had on Gwern.net. So I tried to ignore the temptation.
Simultaneously, the successful use of ‘floating footnotes’ reminded me how nice it had been to edit/browse Wikipedia using “Lupin’s tool” ~2005: hovering over a wikilink would pop up a preview of the linked article and a suite of editing tools.
I haven’t used or looked at a screenshot of Lupin’s tool in 14 years, but comparing it and Gwern.net popups shows the convergent evolution (including recursion).
Lupin’s tool in turn inspired many variants. For example, Wikipedia offers by default to logged-out users an extremely simplified ‘previews’ popup, which shows little but the introductory paragraph and a thumbnail image; the links inside the introduction can’t even be clicked on. This is powered by a specific API endpoint, which serves up a convenient fragment of simplified HTML containing a title/author/abstract, so the popup is little more than creating an empty box, calling the API, and rendering the HTML inside that box with some appropriate layout.
When Said Achmiz began working on Gwern.net, he initially focused on the appearance and basic functionality, but eventually turned his attention to the floating footnotes. Why not begin generalizing that? In July 2019, he implemented the first version of wikipedia-popups.js, which operated like the simplified WP popups: hook each link to Wikipedia20, and on hover, dynamically create a box & fill it with the WP API result.
We loved the results, even if they were not as good as the original Lupin’s tool.21
The WP popups were good enough that we wanted to extend it to title/author/date/abstract fragments from other places; Arxiv was a particular target because I linked so many Arxiv (and BioRxiv) papers, the Arxiv landing page already offers little more than a popup would, and I knew it had an API with R/Haskell libraries which should make scraping it easy. The big idea was I would write plugins to generate annotations for all the sources which made that reasonably easy, and then write annotations by hand for important links, and then eventually use machine learning for the rest.22
But how? I wanted an implementation which was:
Easily integrated into Hakyll, particularly as a Pandoc compiler phase that could deal with each link separately, in isolation, without any global state. I was now familiar with rewriting documents in a Pandoc traversal, and modifying Hakyll was getting harder every year—I had never understood its architecture or types well, and I was forgetting what I had.
Static, in the sense of no server-side state or support, so no databases or API calls like the WP version.
Self-contained and linkrot-immune, in the sense that someone who had an archival copy 100 years from now would be able to make it work with a little elbow-grease.
One reason I had been reluctant to move towards popups was that it created linkrot: no longer would a Gwern.net page be WYSIWYG, because it would now rely on ‘external’ assets which might no longer be there. If I went all-in on popups and annotations, and began writing with them in mind, deliberately pushing more material into the popups, and relying on tags, cross-references, and backlinks, then the visible page would be increasingly merely a shell for the intended reading experience—difficult or impossible to archive. (This is one reason that advanced hypermedia systems of the past tend to have little impact and be forgotten: once they bitrot or the source code is lost, there is no longer any meaningful version of them to look at. Meanwhile, regular papers, which could as easily be chiseled into stone as typeset in LaTeX, survive with little loss, having never had much to lose.)
These requirements would prove contradictory, particularly #3 & #4: the basic problem with recursive popups and self-contained pages is that if annotations are at all interlinked, then each page quickly needs to link in the transitive closure of almost all the annotations; and if they are not interlinked or are so weakly interlinked that one pulls in only a few other annotations, then the feature is useless. We would ultimately give up on the ‘self-contained’ property, and accept that Gwern.net will not archive perfectly.
The first implementation took the logic of tooltips further: instead of using just the title attribute (and some hack like serializing a JSON object into it), use more attributes. HTML lets you define custom attributes, which will start data- and will store whatever strings you need to. So the popups JS could be generalized to read the attributes data-popup-title/-popup-author/-popup-date/-popup-doi/-popup-abstract from each link, and pop that up.
The compile-time implementation is easy: a static read-only database (a Haskell file for convenience, then YAML because easier to hand-edit complex HTML) is passed into the link rewriting phase, and it simply checks if the URL of a link is in the database, and if it is, adds the fields to it. Simple adaptation of earlier link rewriting phases like the interwiki/inflation code, pure/idempotent, easy to extend to create annotations when it encounters an unknown link or to plug in more sources than Arxiv/BioRxiv.
I would soon plug in modules to extract abstracts from Pubmed, PLOS, arbitrary DOIs via Crossref, and a fallback of screenshotting the live webpage/PDF (eventually removed due to low quality), and Said would add new features like popping up PDFs & YouTube videos & other websites & syntax-highlighted versions of locally-hosted source code files inside a new frame, and popping up arbitrary regions/IDs of the same page (eg. from the ToC) which allowed footnotes to pop up in the opposite direction as well. And if you could pop up arbitrary regions of the current page, why couldn’t you pop up arbitrary regions on another page? And if you could pop up those, why not pop up the whole page, starting at the abstract…? (This would be an important direction leading us towards ‘transclude all the things!’ as a strategy.)
This has some downsides, of course: each link instance is separate, whether across the site or within the same page, so there is duplication. (I think we measured the initial size increase at ~10% of the HTML.)
But it worked! I was quite chuffed to annotate the links in a newsletter issue and see it Just Work™. Hovering over a link to get a summary was as nice as I thought it’d be.
By early-2020, we had merged the old WP popups into the new popups. Otherwise, we were focused more on refining & debugging the popup UI, adding the screenshot & image previews, integrating the local archives intuitively, and creating the dark mode (a whole odyssey itself).
(Around this time, we would also experiment with the idea of ‘lightweight’ annotations, which popped up some text but didn’t have an associated URL, modeled after definitions, and overlapping with LinkAuto.hs. The idea was that it would be visually less obtrusive, and could define all technical vocabulary. This didn’t go anywhere: anything that needed a definition could just be hyperlinked, turned out.)
How could the WP popups be merged? Simple: I simply called the API at compile-time and stored the result. By design, they were almost the same thing.
Aside from combining the codebases and generalizing, this had a performance benefit: I could host & lossily optimize the WP thumbnails, which avoided lag from thumbnails loading in. (While the fragments might download & render in <50ms, the images took longer.)
Of course, this meant even more links were getting inlined annotations…
Because of the duplication of inlined annotations, I early on wanted to render links unique per page. One way to do was to put an ‘ID’ on each link, which is exactly what it sounds like: a unique identifier, which is also what you are using every time you link a URL like /foo#bar (there is an id="bar" somewhere in the page, which is handy to know if you need to link a specific part of a page & the authors have not provided any convenient ‘permanent link’ feature). If there are multiple instances of the same ID, then it is an HTML bug.
This was easy to do as part of the annotation rewrite pass, and more usefully, I could make the ID take the form surname-2020 because now I had the author names & dates available from the annotation. This made it easy to reference a citation anywhere else in a page: if I had discussed a paper ‘Smith2020’, then I knew I could reference it later on like see [Smith 2020](#smith-2020) previously discussed, and now the link would both work & pop up with the previous discussion.
A minor feature, but much more important is that this is what you need to implement true backlinks in HTML. Most wikis, like MediaWiki, punt on backlinks: Wikipedia will tell you ‘what links here’, but it won’t tell you what in those pages ‘links here’. The link is just part of the soup and has no name. You cannot refer to it. Even if you looked for it, it might not be unique. (You could assign IDs arbitrarily, perhaps as a URL transformation, but that’s not nice: unstable if the URL changes, and hard for the writer to look up to reference, as opposed to the mnemonic I have.)
However, once all links have consistent IDs, and are unique per page (given different IDs manually when linked multiple times), then you can do true backlinks. And since popups will popup the region of the caller, just like they could for footnotes, you get bidirectional browsing for each page: you can simply pop up the context and see why the current page A was being linked in other page B. (This is much more useful than Wikipedia’s ‘what links here’ which just gives you a giant opaque list.)
I didn’t have backlinks in mind at all at this point, so this was a happy accident.
All this time, there was one huge flaw to the popups: they were increasingly richly interlinked and annotated… And that was useless to the reader, because they could only pop up 1 level. If an Arxiv popup linked a dozen other papers, then too bad. You’ll have to open them all up in tabs if you want to know what they’re about.
This was frustrating. But how does a popup ‘know’ how to pop up another link, if it’s just stored locally in the link itself? Does it ‘call out to an API’, or what? Does this require a total rethink and rewrite?
The right choice is ‘yes’ (which is part of why most sites which do popups at all do not attempt recursive popups). I chose the great refusal of ‘no’, because I had the perverse realization that if I could inline one piece of HTML with a link in it into a link, then I could inline recursively. It’s just more strings, as far as the code is concerned. I would run the pass repeatedly until the HTML stopped changing (3×, in practice). At that point, all of the links, and their links, and so on, would be inlined. This required relatively little change to the JS frontend as well.
This worked. Ssure, the HTML got bigger… sometimes by a lot, doubling or more, with some pages hitting 10MB. You didn’t want to look at the HTML source too closely, lest the sight of quintuple-escaped HTML shatter your sanity. But if you didn’t look into the sausage factory, the recursive popups were a miracle of rare device! I would read my annotations just to have an excuse to pop up more. (Said would go a little overboard with adding features to the popups to allow them to be moved, ‘pinned’, resized, fullscreened, tiled, and controlled by keybindings; by the end, it has roughly the window management capabilities of Windows 95.)
(The recursive inlining applied only to regular annotations, and not Wikipedia annotations—because WP annotations did not include any links, recall, as they were only a simplified intro paragraph.)
I was not in total denial about the size problem. Pages which were 10MB HTML are visibly slow to load and render. I had written off that as small—Browsers are highly optimized these days and you load 10MB images all the time, right, without it being too bad. Unfortunately, the comparison between HTML and images is false: image data is simple and uniform, while processing HTML, even HTML which does nothing because it’s a string attribute, is colossally expensive in comparison. Browsers, especially mobile browsers, were choking on Gwern.net pages, and the problem was only going to get worse. Around this time, Said began implementing proper mobile support for annotations, going with a ‘popin’ approach; mobile users meant that performance problems bad on desktop would be severe on mobile, and mobile users, I noticed in my Google Analytics, were now half the readers (including almost all my Twitter readers, it seemed, judging from screenshots—they were particularly fond of the snazzy new dark-mode).
By December 2020, I had come up with an improvement on recursive inlining, analogous to iteration or bottom-up dynamic programming (if that helps), which I called link bibliographies, because it essentially created a big bibliography section of all the annotated links in a page, listing them once and only once.
The first rewrite was to merge links within a page. Much bloat was coming from inlining the same annotation many times, sometimes at multiple levels within the same base link. Instead, the transitive closure of links would be gathered per page, a single unique ‘flat’ list of annotations generated, appended to the end of the page, and then the recursive popups would simply grab each annotation as needed. This would have no problem with, say, 2 annotations linking each other: the popups JS would simply cycle back and forth between which entry it copied from the link-bibliography. It also meant that there was no combinatorial explosion, so I could remove the depth limit.
This cut down size a lot. It also had an interesting design benefit (another happy accident): if the annotations were collated at the end of the page in their original order (but de-duplicated), that constituted a ‘bibliography’ for the page of an interesting sort—an automatic annotated bibliography. (books sometimes contain annotated bibliographies, a device as rare as it is useful.) You could just read through the annotations as a group. I found that useful, and a good way of looking at a document; I also liked the archival aspect of it: it meant that you could archive or print out the page, and now you had a complete snapshot of it. I had come up with ‘link bibliographies’ as a performance optimization, but found it was a valuable design pattern for annotations.
One way to deal with performance problems is to lie, and hide them by moving them around. Like the program which ‘opens’ but won’t actually be able to do anything for another 10s.
In this case, we lied by moving the big chunk of HTML which was a link-bibliography to a separate URL/page, which could be lazy-loaded. Now pages loaded as fast as ever! Of course, when you hovered over an annotated link or popped it in, you might have to wait… But at least subsequent annotations would be fast?
The success of the link bibliography approach, and the failure of fully-recursive WP annotations, showed that the only workable strategy was storing each annotation separately. That is, we needed to bite the bullet of having a big directory of per-annotation HTML fragments, and then the JS just loaded that. The good news was that these could all be generated at compile-time, so no API or server-side changes would be required. Post-link-bibliography and combined with its existing transclusion capabilities, the JS now supported most of what it needed to make this work.
Once the link-bibliographies were split out, the JS could be swapped from ‘look up & display annotation ID XYZ in /doc/link-bibliography/page.html’ to ‘look up & display annotation ID XYZ in /metadata/annotation/XYZ.html’.
We finished the transition in January 2021, and sighed with relief: popups was done. This was scalable, fully recursive, and could support all the features we wanted.
The cost was that pages were no longer self-contained, but the link-bibliographies had shown me how we could restore that, morally: lazy-loading of link-bibliographies, and of each annotation in the link-bibliography, and then lazy-loading of their link-bibliography, and so on ad infinitum. Indeed, the full recursion enabled much more recursion than the inlining or link-bibliography approaches ever could have; I quickly added popups for the tag-directories, scraped Gwern.net abstracts as an optimization23, and when I rebuilt the link-bibliography feature and built the backlinks & similar-links features, what did they need to be but another link which could popup?
Depending on how one counts, one final reimplementation of popups might be when Said rewrote the popup rendering system to use the shadow DOM to assemble popups “off screen”, so when the hover-timeout elapsed, the popup would be read for rendering & thus displayed near-instantly.
This avoids issues where a popup has a thumbnail image in it: while the HTML of the annotation downloads effectively instantly, within 50ms, and is rendered about as quickly, the image sometimes still takes a while to download & render (for unpredictable tail latency reasons, so improving the mean response time wouldn’t fix it), thereby breaking the illusion of a static page and revealing to the user that the popup is fragile & dynamic. But with the fully-optimized popup, popups act “atomically” and seem to Just Work™.
The separate fragments resolved the most immediate pain, so around February 2021, I set to fixing the major issue of WP popups not being recursive. I found a different API, which would provide the MediaWiki with the links still in it, which I could pass through Pandoc to get clean HTML, and which I could then recurse on. This failed for two reasons.
Dumping the HTML proved… challenging. It was incredibly difficult to clean up the complex idiosyncratic WP/MediaWiki HTML into something I could insert into a popup. I would pass it through Pandoc (which understood a limited subset of MediaWiki compared to the baroque English Wikipedia source, and lacks knowledge of most of the key templates), run a mountain of regexps and rewrites, and then discover yet another problem.
After a lot of MediaWiki & WMF API doc reading, I discovered that there was yet a third mobile API which provided the whole page by section. This in turn could be narrowed to exactly what I needed, the ‘introduction’ in a simplified but still usable HTML (eg. https://en.wikipedia.org/api/rest_v1/page/mobile-sections-lead/Dog).
Perhaps I could have set up enough rules to clean the HTML enough, but more fatally, I underestimated the power of WP wikilinking: after about a week of scraping and something like 100MB of annotations, I conceded that WP articles were so interlinked that even with ‘flat annotations’ and only looking at the introduction, fully-recursive WP articles were impossible. I scrapped the local WP annotations & thumbnails (given the level of dynamism, I couldn’t cache them all), and WP popups reverted to the dynamic approach as a special-case in the JS rather than another plugin. The main thing that happens at compile-time is deciding whether a Wikipedia link can be popped up at all, which is nontrivial.24
It proved much easier for Said to work with the newly-discovered mobile API and create a highly-customized UI for WP entries which could be recursed or transcluded section by section. (This is, depending on how you count, the fifth or sixth version of the WP popups, and it is much like the first one back in 2019—“time is a flat circle”.) Quality-wise, it is by far the highest, and like the standalone popups, looks like it is the final iteration.
The logic of popups further led us to emphasize transclusion: if you can load HTML fragments from static URLs to insert into a popup, you are not far from loading them into the article as well, which allows you to stitch together disparate HTML fragments into a single page. (These fragments can be whole pages, sections of pages, arbitrary ranges of IDs, or even the annotation for a URL.)
By moving inlining from compile-time to runtime, this can substitute for many things that would seem to need inlining or dynamic calls to an API, and allows sharing across pages, ‘infinite’ pages like fully-recursive link-bibliographies with Wikipedia entries, much faster site-compilation due to less redundant compilation/inlining of fragments, and simplifying the JS. Transclusions move site design from a hamsterwheel of bespoke JS munging templates, which needs to be updated constantly, to simply writing down a transclude link & compile-time generating the respective HTML fragment; for example, to add link-bibliographies & backlinks & similar-links, I simply had to append two transclude links to popups & pages, and the JS didn’t need to be changed at all. Further, the tags and link-bibliographies used to be enormous pages, which were difficult to compile correctly because they needed to inline at compile-time all the annotations in a different way from the ‘true’ annotation HTML fragments, leading to errors when they got compiled slightly differently, and to a linear slowdown in the number of tags/uses of links (each time a tag was added to a URL, that meant another instance which had to be compiled); with transclusion, those pages simply become short lists of links, which are transcluded lazily, so they both compile quickly and load into browsers quickly.
(One does need to implement this carefully with good performance & aggressively preloading, otherwise one merely recreates the miserable experience of ‘Web 2.0’ websites with janky slow infinite-scrolls and constant layout shift—Twitter being a particular offender.)
Why don’t all PDF generators use that? Software patents, which makes it hard to install the actual JBIG2 encoder (supposedly all JBIG2 encoding patents had expired by 2017, but no one, like Linux distros, wants to take the risk of unknown patents surfacing), which has to ship separately from ocrmypdf, and worries over edge-cases in JBIG2 where numbers might be visually changed to different numbers to save bits.↩︎
I initially had a convention where lower-case URLs were ‘drafts’ and only mixed-case URLs were ‘finished’, but I abandoned it after a few years in favor of an explicit ‘status’ description in the metadata header. No one noticed the convention, and my perfectionism & scope-creep & lack of HTTP redirect support early on (requiring breaking links) meant I rarely ever flipped the switch.↩︎
The one good choice was getting the gwern.TLD domain, and .net as its TLD: no other name would have worked over the years or be as memorable, and the connotations of .com remain poor—even if gwern.com hadn’t been domain-squatted, it would’ve been a bad choice.↩︎
In terms of Zooko’s triangle, because I control the domain, all URLs are ‘secure’ and they cannot be made more ‘decentralized’, so the only improvement is to make them more ‘human-meaningful’—but in a UX way, being meaningful, short and easy to type, not trying to approximate a written-out English sentence or title.↩︎
Mostly mixed-content issues: because Cloudflare was handling the HTTPS initially, I had problem with nginxredirects redirecting to the HTTP plaintext, which browsers refuse to accept, breaking whatever it was. I eventually had to set up HTTPS in nginx itself.↩︎
I couldn’t find any hard evidence about underscores being worse for SEO, so I was more concerned about the likelihood of mangled URLs & underscores being harder to type than hyphens.↩︎
The main glitch turned out to be off-site entirely: while Google Analytics seems to’ve taken the migration in stride, I didn’t notice for a month that Google Search Console had crashed to zero traffic & reporting all indexed pages now blocked. (The old URLs were of course now redirecting, which GSC treats as an error.) GSC does support a ‘whole domain’ rather than subdomain registration, but it only lets you do that by proving you own the whole domain by screwing with DNS, and I had opted for the safer (but subdomain-only) verification method of inserting some metadata in the homepage. So I lost a month or two of data before I could migrate the old GSC to the new GSC. A minor but annoying glitch.↩︎
Specifically: some OS/browsers preserve soft hyphens in copy-paste, which might confuse readers, so we use JS to delete soft hyphens; this breaks for users with JS disabled, and on Linux, the X GUI bypasses the JS entirely for middle-click but no other way of copy-pasting. There were some additional costs: the soft-hyphens made the final HTML source code harder to read, made regexp & string searches/replaces more error-prone, and apparently some screen readers are so incompetent that they pronounce every soft-hyphen!↩︎
It probably doesn’t help link-icon popularity that the main link-icon people see, Wikipedia’s glyph for Adobe Acrobat ‘PDF’, is so ugly. Wikipedia, you can do better.↩︎
MediaWiki uses the regexp approach, and struggles to cover all the useful cases, as their CSS indicates by having 6 different regexps:
This could be simplified to 3 regexps, and broadened to handle possible mixed-case/typo extensions like .Pdf, by using case-insensitive matching (ie. [href$=".pdf" i] & so on). Regardless, this suite will miss the /pdf/ or wrapper cases I tried to handle, but does handles cases with ?foo=barquery parameters, which I skip. (Presumably for servers that insist on various kinds of metadata & tracking & authorization gunk instead of just serving a PDF without any further hassle. I tend to regard such URLs are treacherous and just never link them, rehosting the PDF immediately.)↩︎
My solution to that problem was to more frequently manually mirror PDFs (where they are guaranteed to follow the .pdf pattern), and eventually create a ‘local archiving’ system which would snapshot most remote URLs & thus ensure webpages that involved PDFs would be shown to readers as PDFs.↩︎
One might be a little dubious, but as the joke goes, to a sheep, all sheep look distinct, and I can often tell a paper is by a DeepMind group before I’ve finished reading the abstract, and sometimes from the title, even when it’s ostensibly blinded peer-review.↩︎
This code-generation hack should become unnecessary once attr() is supported (someday—0% support as of 2023-02), and all the generated per-SVG rules can be replaced by a single substitution rule like a[data-link-icon-type='svg'] { --link-icon-url: '/static/img/icon/' attr(data-link-icon); }.↩︎
Making SVG link-icons takes time, but not necessarily as hard as it sounds.
Many websites will have an SVG favicon or logo already; if they do not, their Wikipedia entry may include an SVG logo already, or Google Images may turn one up. If there is none, then the PNG/JPG can sometimes be traced in Inkscape with “Trace Bitmap”. (I have not had much luck directly using Potrace.) Once imported into Inkscape, even a newbie like myself can usually make it monochrome and simplify/exaggerate it to make it legible as a tiny link-icon. Then an SVG compression utility like vecta.io can trim the fat down to 1–4kb. The dark-mode CSS then usually can invert them automatically, and no further work is necessary.↩︎
I’d used it previously ~2012–2015 because I had a vague idea that seeing what links readers clicked on would be helpful in deciding which ones were useful, which ones needed better titles/descriptions, which ones might deserve lengthier treatment like blockquote excerpts (since superseded by annotations), etc. I wound up not using it for any of that because click rates were so low, decreased throughout the article as readers dropped off, and I found them meaningless anyway.↩︎
Not that I was thrilled about the ugliness and difficulty of reading the classic ‘et-al’ style of inline citations either! I remembered when I first began reading academic papers, rather than books, and the difficulty I had dealing with the soups of names & dates marching across the page, making it hard to recall what a given parade was even supposed to be citations for… (That one gets used to it eventually, and forgets the burden, is not a good excuse.) My dislike would lead to my subscript notation.↩︎
Amusingly, in 2021 I would go back and parse all of the existing tooltips to extract the metadata for annotations. It worked reasonably well.↩︎
There are some implementations which do not hook links to load the fragment on demand, but instead, on page load, do an API call for each link. We found this to be completely unnecessary as a performance optimization because the WP API will generally return the fragment within ~50ms (while you typically need a UI delay of >500ms to avoid spurious popups when the user was just moving his mouse), and would waste potentially hundreds of API calls per page load—on particularly heavily wikilinked Gwern.net pages, the API results might be a substantial fraction of the entire page! So please don’t do that if you ever make a WP popup yourself.↩︎
Why not use that? The logged-in user preview, Lupin’s page navigation popup tool (current version), does include the inline links. But close inspection of its source shows that there is no secret API returning the right HTML. Instead, it download the page’s entire MediaWiki source, and compiles it via a JS library to HTML on its own! I later attempted to work with this using Pandoc to compile, and for simple articles this works well enough, but it fails badly on any article which makes heavy use of templates (which is many of them, particularly STEM ones), and hand-substitution or replacement couldn’t keep up with the infinite long tail of WP templates.↩︎
Neural net summarizers had already gotten good, and GPT-2 had come out in February 2019 and shown that it had learned summarization all on its own (amusingly, when prompted with a Reddit tl;dr:), and while I had not fully gotten on board the scaling hypothesis, I was quite sure that neural net summarization was going to get much better over the next decade. But I didn’t want to wait a decade to start using popups, and it seemed likely that I would need my own corpus to finetune a summarizer on my annotations. So I might as well get started.↩︎
While it was elegant & simple to just pop up other Gwern.net pages when they were linked, this suffered from the same performance problem as the link-bibliographies: it can be a lot of HTML to parse & render, especially when the reader is expecting the popup to popup & render with no discernible delay—in the most extreme cases like the GPT-3 page, an unsuspecting reader might be left waiting 10–15s before the popup finally displayed anything!↩︎
One might think that it would be easy: surely a Wikipedia article is simply every URL starting with https:/en.wikipedia.org/wiki/, thereby excluding the API/infrastructure pages?
Unfortunately, this is not the case. WP further namespaces pages under /wiki/Foo:—note the colon, which means that /wiki/Image:XYZ is completely different from /wiki/Image_XYZ—and each of these namspaces has different behavior for whether they have an introduction or if they can be live links inside a frame. For example, one must be careful to handle all the special characters in a page title like C++ or Aaahh!!! Real Monsters, and remember that titles like “Bouba/kiki effect” are simply a slash in the name & not a page named “kiki effect” inside a “Bouba” directory; pages inside the Wikipedia: namespace can be both annotated & live, like regular articles; Category: cannot be annotated but can be live; Special: pages can be neither.
I had to set up a testsuite in Interwiki.hs to finally get all the permutations correct.↩︎
!['Sometimes I get overwhelmed thinking about the amount of work that went into the ordinary objects around me. Despite it being imaginary, I already have SUCH a strong opinion on the cord-switch firing incident.' [A table is shown with a glass of water to the left and a lamp standard type desk lamp on the right. There are nine labels in relation to different parts of these three items. For each label, one or two arrows points to the relevant part. Five labels are written above the table, two on the table and two below the table between the front legs. These last two labels are causing the table legs to the rear to disappear, and also cuts the lamp cord, going beneath the table, in two. Below each label will be written under a description of what they point to going in normal reading order from left to right, two lines above, one line on and one line below the table.] · [Arrow points a line that follow the curve of the lamps shade:] An engineer worked late drawing this curve in AutoCAD · [Arrow points to back of lamp shade just above the stem. The shade has four visible vents on the front. The part the arrow points to is not visible:] Extra vents added to avoid California safety recall · [Arrow points to glass:] Years-long negotiation with glass supplier · [A double arrow is placed above the center of the glass, ending on two lines above the edges of the glass:] 4 hours of meetings · [Two arrow points on either side of the lamp's stem:] 9 hours of meetings · [Two arrow, one pointing up at the bottom and the other down at the inside bottom of the glass:] Months of tip-over testing · [An arrow points to the lamp information sticker on the bottom part of the lamps base. Unreadable text can be seen as thins lines on the sticker:] Ongoing debate · [An arrow points to the front edge of the desk, ending in a starburst on the edge:] Wood source changed due to 20 year legal fight over logging in the Great Bear rainforest · [Arrow points to the switch on the lamps cord which can be seen going over the right edge of the table and hanging down below the table. The switch can be seen just under the table edge:] Argument over putting switch on cord got someone fired](/image/design/2016-10-03-xkcd-1741-work.png)
![[Poll image: the helper links pointed out with big black arrows.]](/image/design/2021-01-12-gwernnet-popup-annotationwithlinkstointernetarchiveandgooglequeriesforaurlwitharrowemphasisfortwitterpoll.png)
