I would like to become a playwright, just so that I can write a play for Francis Jue and Kara Young.
Is that too specific?
Because the future has just started
I would like to become a playwright, just so that I can write a play for Francis Jue and Kara Young.
Is that too specific?
Today I gave a talk, and something went wrong. Not terribly wrong, but wrong enough that it was clear to my audience that something went wrong. In this case I was using an unfamiliar projector, and I was foiled by some over-eager projector software that moved things around on my screen.
And from there reality forks into two directions. In one direction, there is the real time question of how to deal with what is happening in the moment. What do you say next? How do you keep your talk going, and integrate the error into your presentation without losing momentum?
In the other direction, what have you learned, and how do you apply that knowledge? Of course you start finding a way to make your software more bulletproof. But can you also develop new ways of recovering, in the moment, from the next inevitable presentation mishap?
The good news is that every failure is a lesson. As the saying goes, we never learn from our successes.
Are we moving through the world, or is the world moving through us?
And would we be able to tell the difference?
After I taught my class today, I got into a conversation with one of the students from the class. I was curious to hear how the class went, from the students’ perspective.
The student talked about the way I structured the assignments. Instead of having everybody do the same thing, I leave lots of room for individual creativity.
Without really thinking, I replied “The more fun you have, the more you learn.”
Only afterward did I realize that I had just said something really useful.
OK, I’ve seen both presidential debates. And I see that the Republican candidates seem to be hungry. That hunger worries me. I am now sincerely worried that they are coming for our pets.
They’re going to eat the dogs, they’re going to eat the cats. They’re going to eat the pets of the people that live here.
Sorry, I got carried away there for a moment.
The fact is that Vance’s creepy conspiracy theory about Haitian immigrants tells us who he is. It wasn’t a dog whistle. It was a fog horn. It was a very explicit and pointed callout to racists.
The very randomness of it is what makes it so creepy. If you’re Hispanic, or Asian, or Jewish, or anybody else who gets in that man’s sights, don’t be surprised if you’re next.
Yesterday I used a presentation tool that I had implemented over a number of years. Gradually my code had grown larger and larger, as I progressively added more features and refinements.
But yesterday I realized that only a small subset of the features of that presentation tool were really important, and that those features could be expressed in a far smaller codebase. So today I wrote a new presentation tool that implements just those features.
I now have a very small program that does just the coolest part of that other large program. Because this program is so small, it is going to be much easier to maintain, to use, to debug and to incorporate into other projects.
To misquote Henry David Thoreau:
“Our code is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify, simplify! I say, let your files be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb-drive.”
There is a kind of wisdom that we all have when we are children. This fades away as we grow up and begin to take on the different kind of intelligence required to survive in the adult world.
What if, as grown ups, we were able to fully tap into this other kind of wisdom. How would this manifest in our everyday lives?
Would we see an improvement our personal and professional relationships? Would we gain insights into art and human nature that would otherwise elude us?
I suspect that there are adults among us who already possess this powerful direct connection with the child they once were. Maybe we should ask them.
Some people say that technology and art
Are like oil and water — but that’s not very smart
They are much more like oil and vinegar I’d say
When you combine them in just the right way
And that is the point of this little ballad:
It takes many ingredients to make a good salad
The first time somebody invents something, there is no existing body of knowledge about it. Which means there is no way to be efficient, cut corners, learn from the mistakes of others.
So the first of anything — the first automobile, the first 3D printer, the first laser printer, the first machine to record music — is necessarily overbuilt. It is generally quite expensive, probably very heavy, may use exotic materials that are not easily sourced, and just all around impractical.
If you look at the first example of anything newly invented, you might think that it could never catch on. There are so many things about it that are impractical, that could not be mass produced, that might even be dangerous to consumers.
But the point is that it now exists. It’s not just a conjecture, it’s a reality. And people can start trying it out, taking it for a spin.
And if that invention turns out to do something that the world wants, lots of other folks will come along who will make it a lot cheaper and lighter, find a way to use more common materials, and get it ready for market.
So if you have an idea for invention, don’t try to make it market ready all in one go. Just build the damn thing.
Today I typed Harris economic plan into Google, and the first hit was her actual economic plan. You can click here to see it.
I read it, cover to cover, in one sitting, and I really enjoyed reading it. The document covers many issues, including reducing taxes for workers, lowering inflation, making it more affordable to buy a house, support for child care, reducing the cost of groceries, lowering the costs of healthcare and prescription drugs, helping small businesses, reducing energy costs, and lowering costs for retirees.
In each case she proposes a plan that is sensible, logical, well thought out, clearly described and appropriate to the problem. I found it very refreshing to read something so well articulated and reality based.
You should read it, and decide for yourself.