Month: October 2021

Sometimes I will write some software that is the realization of a very simple idea. I will spend perhaps a few days on it, polish it up, and be very happy with it.

What I have is something that tries to do only one thing. But it does that one thing very well. There is a kind of poetry to it.

But then I will be tempted to get ambitious. “As long as I’m doing this thing well,” I say to myself, “why not add that other capability?”

Soon I am adding capabilities right and left, and my once simple little software gem starts to turn into Dr. Frankenstein’s creature. It does all sorts of things, but it no longer has a clear purpose. The poetry of it is gone.

I’ve been getting better at resisting the temptation to keep building things to the point where I kill the poetry. I think it’s a skill you develop over time.

Adrian posted a great comment on my post from yesterday about Recording Dreams. At some point he said:

“I have a few old memories that, to this day, I’m uncertain if they really happened or were part of a dream. If I could search an archive of my dreams (or even just summaries of them), I might be able to learn which were real and which were imagined.”

It occurs to me that if a technology were developed that allowed you to access an archive of your dreams, that technology would also be capable of searching through your actual memories.

When that capability gets developed it will be very popular, and Google will provide a handy shortcut for it. You will be able to search for all sorts of topics in your dreams and memories, and cross-reference your dreams with your real memories. That could be useful for all sorts of things.

Especially if you start dreaming about what you discovered in your dreams. To find out whether you have been having dreams about your searches through your dreams, you can just do another Google search. The fun never ends.

You will also be able to access everyone else’s dreams and memories, but only if you are an advertiser. 🙂

If you had a way to record your dreams so you could play them back later like a movie, would you?

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t.

Over time I’ve developed a particular technique for giving coding assignments to my computer science students.

When it’s time to give the students a coding assignment, I first implement the assignment myself, going from the course notes that I wrote for them in the most recent lectures. Then I decide which parts of the code I think they should be responsible for.

Depending on how advanced the students are, I can give them more or less of the code to do. For the parts that I’m not expecting them to implement, I just leave in my own code.

Then I add comments describing the parts I want them to implement, which turns that part of the code into a kind of step by step algorithm. Finally, I remove all of the code that I wrote for those parts.

It’s a kind of reverse engineering approach to building coding assignments. And it seems to work really well.

At what point does technology rearrange our reality so that we are not located at our geographic location, for most practical purposes?

Some would argue that it will come about at the point when virtual reality is indistinguishable from the real thing

Others might argue that it happens the first time we pick up a good book and start reading.

Today is the anniversary of the premiere of the first ever “talkie” — The Jazz Singer. About three decades into the existence of cinema, that event ushered in a fundamental shift in the art of motion pictures.

When we think of movies now, we don’t generally think about silent movies, because people haven’t been making them for nearly a century. Yet until that day, a movie was a silent movie. There was no other kind of movie.

Before that premiere, telling stories with moving images but without sound was a well developed and mature art form, a visual language for conveying and receiving entertainment that audiences at the time knew well. It is a language that is now largely forgotten.

Silent movies now look strangely alien and unnatural. But that’s not the way they looked to audiences a century ago. Back then they were just movies.

I wonder what other languages of art are destined to become discarded and eventually forgotten by millions of people, because technology will one day usher in something different.

Sometimes things happen that make you realize something about yourself. I told some people this morning that I am apparently way behind the times. Or at the very least, late to the party.

The reason I know this is that at some point yesterday mid-afternoon somebody told me that Facebook was down. I had had no idea.

And then there are the days that are the most special, the ones that are different from all the other days.

Those you keep to yourself.

Today has been for me largely a day of rest. I decided to take a day off, after an intense week of non-stop work and activity.

Ironically, I suspect this is the most productive decision I have made all week.

I mentioned the names Nick and Nora at dinner this evening. The other people at the table had no idea what I was talking about. So I explained Nick and Nora Charles, The Thin Man, Dashiell Hammett’s novel.

I explained the fact that the characters played by William Powell and Myrna Loy were the most romantic couple in cinema history. I even touched on the surprising movie debut of Jimmy Stewart.

I am surprised that people don’t know the classics of cinematic history. It is so fundamental to who we are as a culture, and to how we got here.