Here are some things I'm responsible for bringing into the world lately. 

And a new book to post, with some comments.  (I really like the idea of this gradually becoming a book review blog).

I have mixed feelings about Cory Doctorow as a writer.

I enjoyed Little Brother immensely, and stopped reading Makers halfway through in disgust.  (Am I really hard on books?  Yes, I am really hard on books.)

I concluded that he is good at writing for children and young adults and bad at writing for adults - which is a fine way to be.  Certainly, the young adult market is more lucrative.  To elaborate: if a book for young teens seems didactic, with juvenile characters, it's much as expected.  A very similar type of story about 40-year-olds, ostensibly aimed at other 40-year-olds, is much less understandable.

Comments on Information Doesn't Want To Be Free:

Spoiler alert: It's "Information doesn't want to be free, people do," in case you're a hacker manifesto diehard offended by this apparent sacrilege.  Since both Little Brother and Makers read at times like mouthpieces for Doctorow's futurism - it's unsurprising that he's at his best when he drops the baggage and just tells you what he thinks, in straight-forward non-fiction.

This book is tremendously well-researched.  It frequently elucidates obscure bits of copyright law and internet history in layperson language, using examples that make clear the implications of some proposed anti-piracy bills and current DRM.  That said and full disclaimer, it's easy to like something you've agreed with for years.  And since I downloaded my first .mp3 at maybe 12 or 13, I have never looked back.

Personal archaeology suggests that this was the first song I ever downloaded:


This is what I do at work (aka play games with 10 yr old boys).  I swear it is educational for us all.  


Pleased to report that in January, I'll be going back to high school.  I'll be doing grade 12 physics, chemistry, and maybe biology.  This is undertaken with the intention of applying to big-girl university and studying something like computer science or software engineering.  Stay tuned for blog updates, in which my life becomes more and more like a romcom starring Drew Barrymore.

Otherwise, I'm currently reading The Left Hand of Darkness, and happy to be reviewing a book I'm enjoying.  At some point, I should start *finishing* books before I post about them.  Alas.

The book is a science fiction novel written in the late 60's.  The set up of the universe is a classic one in sci fi (and indeed a trope I used in my never-before-mentioned-on-this-blog high school sci fi novel): An early human civilization scattered throughout the universe and lost touch with its colonies, accounting for the proliferation of many humanoid species.  The main character is an Envoy from the main arm of civilization making contact with a virgin alien planet, trying to welcome them into trade with the rest of the galaxy.  Fun quirk: this branch of the human genepool is hermaphroditic, turning the whole book into a thought-game about what a world without gender would be like.  It allows for thrilling and quietly hilarious sentences like, "My landlady, a voluble man, arranged my journey into the East."  (Le Guin uses "man" and "he" as universal pronouns throughout the book, a practice which has certainly gone of fashion now).  

To narrow the philosophical subjects contained within this book to gender alone would be (unapologetic pun) to neuter it.  The world on which it takes place, Gethen, is one where war has never existed, maybe because it lacks the aggressiveness of gendered sexuality and maybe because it's deep in an ice age and Gethenians spend too much time fighting for survival to fight one another.  There are two main nations, Karhide and Orgoreyn.  Karhide is a sort of feudal state that has developed advanced technology.  Orgoreyn is a non-dystopic communism, a many-branched bureaucracy controls everything and provides jobs for all citizens.  But: "Better to be naked than to lack papers, in Orgoreyn."  Some passages set in this part of the world could be taken from Koestler's Darkness at Noon.  The plot is driven by swirling changes in both cultures, brought about by the arrival of the Envoy, that threaten to bring about the invention of war.  Ultimately, it is a story of friendship between aliens, not despite, but because of their differences.  

Underneath all this is recurring speculation on the nature of truth and knowledge, framed in opposition being-in-the-moment and sensuous lived experience.  Notably, religious Karhiders have developed a limited ability to see the future, but place little stock in it. As in this bit of dialogue:

- "What is sure, predictable, inevitable--the one thing you know concerning your future, and mine?"

- "That we shall die."

- "Yes.  There's really only one question that can be answered, Genry, and we already know the answer . . . The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty: not knowing what comes next."

(As life, so the book).  I expect I will be reading more by this author, especially because my reading lacks female sci fi writers.  Also worth linking, this (excerpted) essay by Le Guin on being a man.  


Codevember round up!

So as November winds to a close - err, has been over for a week, here's a brief list of what I did.  Or, more accurately, a confession to what I didn't do.

- Made a big keyboard controlled processing sketch and did projections for a bunch of bands.  It's on my github called "combination" and to be honest the code is a bit of a mess.  I would like to refactor it but haven't started.

- Made my first 3D processing sketch, which I'd like to expand into a similar projections app.  It's fun.  The thing I like about processing is I can just open it up and be done a self-contained sketch fairly quickly.  It can be difficult to pick up a larger programming project if you only have an hour or two- it's like each time you spend a few days away you have to rebuild the mental map of your code, and reorient to the problem-space.

- Started rewriting the way You Are A Rock handles part of speech using nltk.  The first version is basically hard coded, and at the time I didn't know how to do it any other way.  I'd also like to be able to explore natural language processing tools on my own writing.

- Been reading the nltk book.  I'm currently in chapter 5, and my biggest notable so far is that it makes much heavier use of list comprehensions that I've been in the habit of, and has made me realize they're much more powerful that I thought.

- Made some frontend changes to Tool Library version of the LasaurApp.  I basically just made a pop up menu for Tool Library-specific maintenance, and recent cut speeds.  I'd like to add a form that lets users add entries to the cut speed table . . . someday.

- Began a web project that isn't on my github, and probably won't ever be.  This is not a lie to make up for my lack of commits later in the month, I swear! It's real!

What I didn't do:

- Make a commit every day.  This is because I didn't program something significant every day, and resisted the urge to make superficial commits.  In hindsight, a commit is not a good metric.  A month of fixing minor syntax errors is not much of an accomplishment.  Also the whole working on code that's not open source thing ...

- Finish the MIT intro to programming course.  This I'm a bit sad about, but I'm still working my way through it fairly slowly.  Better to grok it thoroughly than quickly, I guess?  Currently in the section on optimization algorithms, lecture 14.


Random-access Memory

(exactly what it sounds like)

This song popped into my head last night.  I haven't listened to or thought about it in years.  I don't think it's cool anymore, but it's been a long time since being cool was important to me. Of that, this blog post can be the evidence. 

I first heard it in, I think, 2003 or 2004.  I was in grade 10.  I was sitting in Communications tech class, at a table alone except for a boy I had a crush on, who I was also simultaneously terrified of.  He was listening to a discman - back then, the cool and normal way to listen to music was on CDs.  I used to feel like spinning silver disks were life rafts.  For this reason I carried an 1/8" inch audio splitter in my bag.  I thought maybe I could float out of some imagined storm and into intimacy.

In this class we made a short film on VHS tape, and I made intricate ball point pen drawings of computers (I still have them, and think they are a testament to how precise and patient you can be when you're lonely).  I think I only handed in two assignments for this class (the film, these drawings), and was passed by virtue of these drawings alone.  I overheard my teacher, who's name in my memory sounds like Mr. Neelan but may not be, at a parent teacher interview describing me to another student, "Sarah's not like other girls."  I thought it was a compliment at the time, and now I know that it wasn't.  I also know that I am. 

Anyway, rewind.  We are sitting in the classroom.  The lights are flourescent and there is something we're supposed to be working on but we're not.  I don't remember warning him - I just remember unplugging his headphones, and adding mine.  This song was playing.  I didn't ask him for the name of the band, instead I remembered the lyrics and googled them.  I still do this often when I like a song, and every time feel clever. 

Less than a year later, this song was playing over and over on a four song playlist as I lay quietly waiting to die.  Or course, that is another story - maybe more silly and certainly more melodramatic than this one. 


Some of my pals from Site 3 are starting this thing called Codevember.  I think the idea is for it to be like NaNoWriMo, but for code. 

Sooooo, I'm going to try to put one commit per day on Github for the rest of the month.  And, I'm going to finally finish this course:

In other news, NPR made this podcast about women in computer science, notable because it mentions the book "Hackers" that I complained about just a few posts down, and quotes the exact same passage I do. 


Currently reading this: Everything and More by David Foster Wallace.  It's his only book-length non-fiction to my knowledge.  So far, it's a pop science run through the history of infinity.  After reading (err - "being almost done") Godel Escher Bach this Summer, it's not so jarring a world to be plunged into.  Somewhat familiar.  In fact once already Wallace has specifically mentioned GEB, and a few times seemed to nod textually at readers of both books. 

Wallace is going to go into some depth on Cantor, in fact he's the focus of the book (Cantor is, so I learn, the guy who discovered that some infinities are bigger than others).  I appreciate this as he's an important figure that didn't become central to anything Hofstadter covered in GEB.  But despite finding much of the subject matter interesting, I'm also finding Wallace annoying.

He is perpetually denoting various aspects of math as "college math", "junior high math", etc.  He argues that this is an attempt to consider and respect the varied backgrounds of readers.  It comes off as quite the opposite - because for one thing, not everyone was educated under some standard American curriculum - a thing which I doubt exists.  Also - it just ends up jarring the reader out of the text and sending them down a memory rabbit hole. "Did I learn this in school?  When?"  A pointless reverie that has nothing to do with the math in question.

Also, he frequently glosses over areas of content with the excuse that they are too difficult.  Example, " . . . what's known as Fourier coefficients, which are so conceptually hairy that we plan to avoid them at almost any cost."  In a book that presumes to be a math text for relative laypeople, this kind of persistent cutesy reminder that the math is really too hard for us seems to be almost a contradiction of the books purported goals (aka being a math text for laypeople). 

And finally, he's done this multiple times: "In sexual terms, it's an expression of the rate of change of a function with respect to the function's independent variable."  No, Wallace - there is nothing sexual about it and this was only funny the first time. 

Notably none of these examples would be so obnoxious if they occurred only once, even twice.  One wants to Wallace to better control his verbal tics and make his damn points. 

I'm beginning to suspect I won't finish this book either and wondering how long this guilt-driven need to review books I gave up on will continue. 

In other news, I feel like documenting my life a bit more than usual lately.

I'm fond of these empty-ad slots (actually always have been) but these in a different way than others.  I like them 1) because they aren't ads  2) because there is something crisp and austere about the image they *do* contain  3) because they appear to be a technical description of the material they're made of (polycarbonate).  Since working with lasers, I've become a bit of a polymers geek.  Knowing the differences between these materials is important in my life regularly - I quietly enjoy seeing them nose their way into the spotlight. 

Went to a space conference some time ago (IAC) which was . . . full of tiny model spacecraft (which are made by specialty tiny spacecraft-making companies - that's a job someone has).  Irl, I have learned that sometimes real spacecraft are also tiny. 

The only photo I took was of the garbage left from another conference that I saw on the way in.  (I think about the continent of garbage slowly congealing in the middle of the ocean, someday visible to said spacecraft).  

And lastly, me drinking from a silver goblet cause YOLO.  Sayin "hi" to the bots that crawl this blog.  Sup bots!