Intel Releases Mashups for the Masses

News_and_info writes "Intel has released an online tool called Mash Maker with the intent of allowing anyone to create mashups. They offer some training on how to use it, but the tool is fairly easy to use out of the gate. I see it more as a rudimentary semantic browser. From the article: 'Mashups have still not really penetrated the mainstream. My mother is not using mashup sites, and she is definitely not creating them. Even if there was a mashup out there that did exactly what she wanted, the chances are that she wouldn't know it existed, and would be confused by it if she tried to use it ... With Mash Maker, mashups are part of the normal browsing experience. As you browse the web, the Mash Maker toolbar displays buttons representing mashups that Mash Maker thinks you might want to apply to your current page.'"

Comments

Re:more info in the summary

[postmortem]

LADIKA DANILO (in contemplation) The Dragon see, with seven mantles red, Wielding two swords and crownèd with two crowns; Great-grandchild of the faithless Turk, with Koran! Behind him hordes of that accursèd breed, That they may devastate the whole wide earth, As locusts pestilent lay waste the fields! Had not the Rock of France its onrush curbed, Arabia's flood had surely deluged all! Osman - infernal dream - was monarch crown'd; The pale moon wedded, she his apple fair; From whom sprang Orkan, Europe's evil guest; And now Byzantium's realm is nothing more Than the youthful Theodora's dowry - The star of destiny hangs darkly over her. Now Paleologos bids Murat in, To bury in one grave both Greeks and Serbs. Their own ends sought both Brankovitch and Gerluka - Meet recompense Mohammed gave to Gerluka! From out far Asia where they have their nest, This Devil's brood doth gulp the nations up; Each day a nation, as night-owl takes bird: Murat takes Serbia, and Bosnia Bayazed; Murat Epirus, and Mohammed Greece; Then the two Selims Africa and Cyprus - Each takes something till nothing is there left! Dreadful the deeds that happen day by day; Too small is this wide world for Hell's great maw, Which, though feeding ever, never knows repletion! Yanko doth fight for Vladislaus dead; But why fight on when fighting gives not aid? Brave heart Obilitch beats in Skenderbeg, And yet he pines in pitiless exile. - But what can I! What helper is me nigh? We have but few strong arms; our strength is small; We are as wisps of straw tossed on the wind; As orphan'd sad, forsaken of the world, I see my people sleep a deadly sleep, No parent's hand to wipe away my tears; God's Heaven is shut above my head, Giving no answer to my cries and prayers. This world is now become a hell, And men but demons in disguise. Oh, dark, dark Day! oh, outlook ever black! My fearing folk held ever underfoot! Sure I have seen thy woe and all thine ill, Yet 'gainst the worst I now must set my will! When deadly wound is given in the head, The quivering frame doth painfully expire. Plague of mankind! May God make end of thee! Is half a world so small, to thee so small - A half-world filled with horror of thy deeds - That pois'nous stenches from thy demon soul Thou now must bring to spue upon our rock? Is it small offering - of Serbia the whole, From Danube river to the deep blue sea? Thy seat thou hast, all wickedly to ride; Thy blood-stained sceptre is thy boast and pride, From sacred altar thou insultest God, And where was outrag'd Cross dost rear a Mosque! - Our very shades and relics would'st defile, Those relics which to shelter men have brought, And screen'd amid to eternal hills, Dear shrines reminding of our heroes' deeds? These all have been o'erwhelmed in blood, A hundred times in thine, ten times ten in ours! The work of that accursed monarch see - He whom the devil teaches all things bad! - "This Montenegro, which I cannot tame, "By means or fair or foul shall own my name: "With it, on this wise must the method be." Thus spake the Devil's Sent One; the began Sweets of false faith to proffer unto man. The curse of God be on this brood unclean! What is the aim of Islam's creed 'mongst us? How will ye 'scape from our ancestors' curse? However dare 'fore Milosh to appear, Or how before each other Serbian knight, Whose names shall last while ever sun hath light? ... While pondering o'er this council for to-day, Hot horror burns within my soul: Shall brother brother ever thus war down; Shall not such strife so bloody and so long Destroy the very seed within the womb! O cursèd day! - may God blot out thy light - That thou didst bring me forth upon the world! Last year a hundred times I curs'd the hour Those Turks did fail to make an end of me, Lest I should falsify my people's hope. (Vuk Mitchunovitch, reclining near the Vladika, has feigned to be asleep, but has heard everything, and proceeds to arouse the Bishop to action, jerking Vladika with trenchant sentences from his purely contemplative poise.) VUK MITCHUNOVITCH I