blarg?

May 27, 2016

Developers Are The New Mainframes

Filed under: documentation,future,interfaces,lunacy,mozilla,science,weird,work — mhoye @ 3:20 pm

This is another one of those rambling braindump posts. I may come back for some fierce editing later, but in the meantime, here’s some light weekend lunacy. Good luck getting through it. I believe in you.

I said that thing in the title with a straight face the other day, and not without reason. Maybe not good reasons? I like the word “reason”, I like the little sleight-of-hand it does by conflating “I did this on purpose” and “I thought about this beforehand”. It may not surprise you to learn that in my life at least those two things are not the same at all. In any case this post by Moxie Marlinspike was rattling around in the back of my head when somebody asked me on IRC why it’s hard-and-probably-impossible to make a change to a website in-browser and send a meaningful diff back to the site’s author, so I rambled for a bit and ended up here.

This is something I’ve asked for in the past myself: something like dom-diff and dom-merge, so site users could share changes back with creators. All the “web frameworks” I’ve ever seen are meant to make development easier and more manageable but at the end of the day what goes over the wire is a pile of minified angle-bracket hamburger that has almost no connection the site “at rest” on the filesystem. The only way share a usable change with a site author, if it can be done at all, is to stand up a containerized version of the entire site and edit that. This disconnect between the scale of the change and the work needed to make it is, to put it mildly, a huge barrier to somebody who wants to correct a typo, tweak a color or add some alt-text to an image.

I ranted about this for a while, about how JavaScript has made classic View Source obsolete and how even if you had dom-diff and dom-merge you’d need a carefully designed JS framework underneath designed specifically to support them, and how it makes me sad that I don’t have the skill set or free time to make that happen. But I think that if you dig a little deeper, there are some cold economics underneath that whole state of affairs that are worth thinking about.

I think that the basic problem here is the misconception that federation is a feature of distributed systems. I’m pretty confident that it’s not; specifically, I believe that federated systems are a byproduct of computational scarcity.

Building and deploying federated systems has a bunch of hard tradeoffs around development, control and speed of iteration that people are stuck with when computation is so expensive that no single organization can have or do enough of it to give a service global reach. Usenet, XMPP, email and so forth were products of this mainframe-and-minicomputer era; the Web is the last and best of them.

Protocol consensus is hard, but not as hard or expensive as a room full of $40,000 or $4,000,000 computers, so you do that work and accept the fact that what you gain in distributed stability you lose in iteration speed and design flexibility. The nature of those costs means the pressure to get it pretty close to right on the first try is very high, because real opportunities to revisit will be rare and costly. You’re fighting your own established success at that point, and nothing in tech has more inertia than a status quo whose supporters think is good enough. (See also: how IPV6 has been “right around the corner” for 20 years.)

But that’s just not true anymore. If you need a few thousand more CPUs, you twiddle the dials on your S3 page and go back to unified deployment, rapid experimental iteration and trying to stay ahead of everyone else who’s doing the same. That’s how WhatsApp can deploy end to end encryption with one software update, just like that. It’s how Facebook can update a billion users’ experiences whenever they feel like it, and presumably how Twitter does whatever the hell Twitter’s doing this week. They don’t ask permission or seek consensus because they don’t have to; they deploy, test and iterate.

So the work that used to enable, support and improve federated systems now mostly exists where domain-computation is still scarce and expensive: the development process itself. Specifically the inside of developers heads, developers who stubbornly and despite our best efforts remain expensive, high-maintenance and relatively low-bandwidth, with lots of context and application-reasoning locked up in their heads and poorly distributed.

Which is to say: developers are the new mainframes.

Right now great majority of what they’re “connected” to from a development-on-device perspective are de-facto dumb terminals. Apps, iPads, Android phones. Web pages you can’t meaningfully modify for values of “meaningful” that involve upstreaming a diff. From a development perspective those are the endpoints of one-way transmissions, and there’s no way to duplex that line to receive development-effort back.

So, if that’s the trend – that is, if in general centralized-then-federated systems get reconsolidated in socially-oriented verticals, (and that’s what issue trackers are when compared to mailing lists) – then development as a practice is floating around the late middle step, but development as an end product – via cheap CPU and hackable IoT devices – that’s just getting warmed up. The obvious Next Thing in that space will be a resurgence of something like the Web, made of little things that make little decisions – effectively distributing, commodifying and democratizing programming as a product, duplexing development across those newly commodified development-nodes.

That’s the real revolution that’s coming, not the thousand-dollar juicers or the bluetooth nosehair trimmers, but the mess of tiny hackable devices that start to talk to each other via decentralized, ultracommodified feedback loops. We’re missing a few key components – bug trackers aren’t quite source-code-managers or social-ey, IoT build tools aren’t one-click-to-deploy and so forth, but eventually there will be a single standard for how these things communicate and run despite everyone’s ongoing efforts to force users into the current and very-mainframey vendor lock-in, the same way there were a bunch of proprietary transport protocols before TCP/IP settled the issue. Your smarter long-game players will be the ones betting on JavaScript to come out on top there, though it’s possible there will be other contenders.

The next step will be the social one, though “tribal” might be a better way of putting it – the eventual recentralization of this web of thing-code into cultural-preference islands making choices about how they speak to the world around them and the world speaks back. Basically a hardware scripting site with a social aspect built in, communities and trusted sources building social/subscriber model out for IoT agency. What the Web became and is still in a lot of ways becoming as we figure the hard part – the people at scale part, out. The Web of How Stuff Works.

Anyway, if you want to know what the next 15-20 years will look like, that’s the broad strokes. Probably more like 8-12, on reflection. Stuff moves pretty quick these days, but like I said, building consensus is hard. The hard part is always people. This is one of the reasons I think Mozilla’s mission is only going to get more important for the foreseeable future; the Web was the last and best of the federated systems, worth fighting for on those grounds alone, and we’re nowhere close to done learning everything it’s got to teach us about ourselves, each other and what it’s possible for us to become. It might be the last truly open, participatory system we get, ever. Consensus is hard and maybe not necessary anymore, so if we can’t keep the Web and the lessons we’ve learned and can still learn from it alive long enough to birth its descendants, we may never get a chance to build another system like it.

[minor edits since first publication. -mhoye]

December 5, 2015

Barbiephonic (redux)

Filed under: awesome,digital,doom,interfaces,lunacy,parenting,toys,vendetta — mhoye @ 9:51 pm

Structure

I have a funny story about the recent Hello Barbie networked-device security failure. This is doubly a repost – it started its current incarnation as a twitter rant, and longtime readers may remember it from the dim recesses of history, but the time has come for me to tell it again.

Back in 2007 Mattel had a site where they’d charge parents two bucks to have one of Mattel’s franchise characters give their child a real phone call, because people still did that in 2007. They’d let you hear the call before paying, which I suppose was good of them, but I poked around a bit and pretty quickly discovered that whatever company Mattel had hired for this was not so good with the infosec.

The subject of the calls – Dora would say it’s important to learn to read or help around the house, Barbie would tell you to work hard in school, that sort of thing – was pretty pedestrian, harmless despite the weirdly Reagan-era-esque Kid-Celebrities-Help-You-Just-Say-No-To-Drugs vibe. But the indexes on the folders storing all those component sound files they’d assemble into your custom call were wide open.

And the other thing lying around on those open shares were recordings of names. To reach a wide audience they’d recorded some unstoppably perky young woman reciting kids’ first names, Aaron, Abbot, Abby, Abigail, Adana, Adena, in an upbeat barbie-girl voice, every single one. And there I was with a pile of free disk space, university bandwidth, wget and why not.

There were seventeen thousand of them.

After a bit of experimentation, I figured out how to stitch them all together with .4 seconds of silence between each. The resulting audio file was almost five hours long; four hours and forty five minutes of relentless Barbiedoll voice reciting seventeen thousand first names in alphabetical order.

To my knowledge, nobody has ever listened to the whole thing.

Of the six attempts I’m aware of, four were called off when the death threats started, one due to the near-breakup of the couple making the attempt, and one person drinking themselves to unconsciousness at about the 90 minute mark. I’m not saying that to make a joke. I’m telling you because this is real and it’s an SCP-grade psychic biohazard. No highly esteemed deed was committed here; this is not a place of honour.

So don’t say I didn’t warn you.

For your listening pleasure: here it is.

Have a good weekend, Internet.

UPDATE: Somebody made a Youtube video.

November 15, 2015

The Thousand Year Roadmap

Filed under: academic,documentation,future,interfaces,lunacy,mozilla,work — mhoye @ 10:33 am

I made this presentation at Seneca’s FSOSS a few weeks ago; some of these ideas have been rattling around in my brain for a while, but it was the first time I’d even run through it. I was thoroughly caffeinated at the time so all of my worst verbal tics are on display, right as usual um right pause right um. But if you want to have my perspective on why free and open source software matters, why some institutions and ideas live and others die out, and how I think you should design and build organizations around your idea so that they last a few hundred years, here you go.

There are some mistakes I made, and now that I’m watching it – I meant to say “merchants” rather than “farmers”, there’s a handful of others I may come back here to note later. But I’m still reasonably happy with it.

September 20, 2015

The Bourne Aesthetic

“The difference between something that can go wrong and something that can’t possibly go wrong is that when something that can’t possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair.”

–Douglas Adams

I’ve been trying to get this from draft to published for almost six months now. I might edit it later but for now, what the hell. It’s about James Bond, Jason Bourne, old laptops, economies of scale, design innovation, pragmatism at the margins and an endless supply of breadsticks.

You’re in, right?

Bond was a character that people in his era could identify with:

Think about how that works in the post war era. The office dwelling accountant/lawyer/ad man/salesman has an expense account. This covers some lunches at counters with clients, or maybe a few nice dinners. He flirts with the secretaries and receptionists and sometimes sleeps with them. He travels on business, perhaps from his suburb into Chicago, or from Chicago to Cleveland, or San Francisco to LA. His office issues him a dictaphone (he can’t type) or perhaps a rolling display case for his wares. He has a work car, maybe an Oldsmobile 88 if he’s lucky, or a Ford Falcon if he’s not. He’s working his way up to the top, but isn’t quite ready for a management slot. He wears a suit, tie and hat every day to the office. If he’s doing well he buys this downtown at a specialty men’s store. If he’s merely average, he picks this up at Macy’s, or Sears if he’s really just a regular joe. If he gets sick his employer has a nice PPO insurance plan for him.

Now look at Bond. He has an expense account, which covers extravagant dinners and breakfasts at the finest 4 star hotels and restaurants. He travels on business, to exotic places like Istanbul, Tokyo and Paris. He takes advantage of the sexual revolution (while continuing to serve his imperialist/nationalist masters) by sleeping with random women in foreign locations. He gets issued cool stuff by the office– instead of a big dictaphone that he keeps on his desk, Bond has a tiny dictaphone that he carries around with him in his pocket! He has a work car — but it’s an Aston Martin with machine guns! He’s a star, with a license to kill, but not management. Management would be boring anyways, they stay in London while Bond gets to go abroad and sleep with beautiful women. Bond always wears a suit, but they’re custom tailored of the finest materials. If he gets hurt, he has some Royal Navy doctors to fix him right up.

In today’s world, that organization man who looked up to James Bond as a kind of avatar of his hopes and dreams, no longer exists.

Who is our generations James Bond? Jason Bourne. He can’t trust his employer, who demanded ultimate loyalty and gave nothing in return. In fact, his employer is outsourcing his work to a bunch of foreign contractors who presumably work for less and ask fewer questions. He’s given up his defined benefit pension (Bourne had a military one) for an individual retirement account (safe deposit box with gold/leeching off the gf in a country with a depressed currency). In fact his employer is going to use him up until he’s useless. He can’t trust anyone, other than a few friends he’s made on the way while backpacking around. Medical care? Well that’s DIY with stolen stuff, or he gets his friends to hook him up. What kinds of cars does he have? Well no more company car for sure, he’s on his own on that, probably some kind of import job. What about work tools? Bourne is on is own there too. Sure, work initially issued him a weapon, but after that he’s got to scrounge up whatever discount stuff he can find, even when it’s an antique. He has to do more with less. And finally, Bourne survives as a result of his high priced, specialized education. He can do things few people can do – fight multiple opponents, hotwire a car, tell which guy in a restaurant can handle himself, hotwire cars, speak multiple languages and duck a surveillance tail. Oh, and like the modern, (sub)urban professional, Bourne had to mortgage his entire future to get that education. They took everything he had, and promised that if he gave himself up to the System, in return the System would take care of him.

It turned out to be a lie.

We’re all Jason Bourne now.

posted by wuwei at 1:27 AM on July 7, 2010

I think about design a lot these days, and I realize that’s about as fatuous an opener as you’re likely to read this week so I’m going to ask you to bear with me.

If you’re already rolling out your “resigned disappointment” face: believe me, I totally understand. I suspect we’ve both dealt with That Guy Who Calls Himself A Designer at some point, that particular strain of self-aggrandizing flake who’s parlayed a youth full of disdain for people who just don’t understand them into a career full of evidence they don’t understand anyone else. My current job’s many bright spots are definitely brighter for his absence, and I wish the same for you. But if it helps you get past this oddly-shaped lump of a lede, feel free to imagine me setting a pair of Raybans down next to an ornamental scarf of some kind, sipping a coffee with organic soy ingredients and a meaningless but vaguely European name, writing “Helvetica?” in a Moleskine notebook and staring pensively into the middle distance. Does my carefully manicured stubble convey the precise measure of my insouciance? Perhaps it does; perhaps I’m gazing at some everyday object nearby, pausing to sigh before employing a small gesture to convey that no, no, it’s really nothing. Insouciance is a french word, by the way. Like café. You should look it up. I know you’ve never been to Europe, I can tell.

You see? You can really let your imagination run wild here. Take the time you need to work through it. Once you’ve shaken that image off – one of my colleagues delightfully calls those guys “dribble designers” – let’s get rolling.

I think about design a lot these days, and I realize that’s about as fatuous an opener as you’re likely to read this week so I’m going to ask you to bear with me.

Very slightly more specifically I’ve been thinking about Apple’s latest Macbook, some recent retrospeculation from Lenovo, “timeless” design, spy movies and the fact that the Olive Garden at one point had a culinary institute. I promise this all makes sense in my head. If you get all the way through this and it makes sense to you too then something on the inside of your head resembles something on the inside of mine, and you’ll have to come to your own terms with that. Namasté, though. For real.

There’s an idea called “gray man” in the security business that I find interesting. They teach people to dress unobtrusively. Chinos instead of combat pants, and if you really need the extra pockets, a better design conceals them. They assume, actually, that the bad guys will shoot all the guys wearing combat pants first, just to be sure. I don’t have that as a concern, but there’s something appealingly “low-drag” about gray man theory: reduced friction with one’s environment.

– William Gibson, being interviewed at Rawr Denim

At first glance the idea that an Olive Garden Culinary Institute should exist at all squats on the line between bewildering and ridiculous. They use maybe six ingredients, and those ingredients need to be sourced at industrial scale and reliably assembled by a 22-year-old with most of a high-school education and all of a vicious hangover. How much of a culinary institute can that possibly take? In fact, at some remove the Olive Garden looks less like a restaurant chain than a supply chain that produces endless breadsticks; there doesn’t seem to be a ton of innovation here. Sure, supply chains are hard. But pouring prefab pomodoro over premade pasta, probably not.

Even so, for a few years the Tuscan Culinary Institute was a real thing, one of the many farming estates in Tuscany that have been resurrected to the service of regional gastrotourism booked by the company for a few weeks a year. Successful managers of the Garden’s ersatz-italian assembly lines could enjoy Tuscany on a corporate reward junket, and at a first glance amused disdain for the whole idea would seem to be on point.

There’s another way to look at the Tuscan Culinary Institute, though, that makes it seem valuable and maybe even inspired.

One trite but underappreciated part of the modern mid-tier supply-chain-and-franchise engine is how widely accessible serviceable and even good (if not great or world-beating) stuff has become. Coffee snobs will sneer at Starbucks, but the truck-stop tar you could get before their ascendance was dramatically worse. If you’ve already tried both restaurants in a town too remote to to be worth their while, a decent bowl of pasta, a bottle of inoffensive red and a steady supply of garlic bread starts to look like a pretty good deal.

This is one of the rare bright lights of the otherwise dismal grind of the capitalist exercise, this democratization of “good enough”. The real role of the Tuscan Culinary institute was to give chefs and managers a look at an authentic, three-star Tuscan dining experience and then ask them: with what we have to hand at the tail end of this supply chain, the pasta, the pomodoro, the breadsticks and wine, how can we give our customers 75% of that experience for 15% the cost?

It would be easy to characterize this as some sort of corporate-capitalist co-option of a hacker’s pragmatism – a lot of people have – but I don’t think that’s the right thing, or at least not the whole picture. This is a kind of design, and like any design exercise – like any tangible expression of what design is – we’re really talking about the expression and codification of values.

I don’t think it’s an accident that all the computers I bought between about 1998 about 2008 are either still in service or will still turn on if I flip the switch, but everything I’ve bought since lasts two or three years before falling over. There’s nothing magic about old tech, to be sure: in fact, the understanding that stuff breaks is baked right into their design. That’s why they’re still running: because they can be fixed. And thanks to the unfettered joys of standard interfaces some them are better today, with faster drives and better screens, than any computer I could have bought then.

The Macbook is the antithesis of this, of course. That’s what happened in 2008; the Macbook Pro started shipping with a non-removable battery.

If you haven’t played with one Apple’s flagship Macbooks, they are incredible pieces of engineering. They weigh approximately nothing. Every part of them seems like some fundamental advance in engineering and materials science. The seams are perfect; everything that can be removed, everything you can carve off a laptop and still have a laptop left, is gone.

As a result, it’s completely atomic, almost totally unrepairable. If any part of it breaks you’re hosed.

“Most people make the mistake of thinking design is what it looks like. People think it’s this veneer – that the designers are handed this box and told, ‘Make it look good!’ That’s not what we think design is. It’s not just what it looks like and feels like. Design is how it works.” – Steve Jobs

This is true, kind of; it depends on what you believe your scope of responsibility is as a designer. The question of “how a device works” is a step removed from the question of “how does a person engage with this device”; our aforementioned designer-caricature aside, most of us get that. But far more important than that is the question of how the device helps that person engage the world. And that’s where this awful contradiction comes in, because whatever that device might be, the person will never be some static object, and the world is seven billion people swimming in a boiling froth of water, oil, guns, steel, race, sex, language, wisdom, secrets, hate, love, pain and TCP/IP.

Our time is finite, and entropy is relentless: knowing that, how long should somebody be responsible for their designs? Are you responsible for what becomes of what you’ve built, over the long term? Because if you have a better way to play the long game here than “be a huge pile of rocks” you should chisel it into something. Every other thing of any complexity, anything with two moving parts to rub together that’s still usable or exists at all today has these two qualities:

  1. It can be fixed, and
  2. When it breaks, somebody cares enough about it to fix it.

And that’s where minimalism that denies the complexity of the world, that lies to itself about entropy, starts feeling like willful blindness; design that’s a thin coat of paint over that device’s relationship with the world.

More to the point, this is why the soi-disant-designer snob we were (justly and correctly) ragging on at the beginning of this seemingly-interminable-but-it-finally-feels-like-we’re-getting-somewhere blog post comes across as such a douchebag. It’s not “minimalist” if you buy a new one every two years; it’s conspicuous consumption with chamfered edges. Strip away that veneer, that coat of paint, and there are the real values designer-guy and his venti decaf soy wankaccino hold dear.

Every day I feel a tiny bit more like I can’t really rely on something I can’t repair. Not just for environmentalism’s sake, not only for the peace of mind that standard screwdrivers and available source offers, but because tools designed by people who understand something might fall over are so much more likely to have built a way to stand them back up. This is why I got unreasonably excited by Lenovo’s retro-Thinkpad surveys, despite their recent experiments in throwing user security overboard wearing factory-installed cement boots. The prospect of a laptop with modern components that you can actually maintain, much less upgrade, has become a weird niche crank-hobbyist novelty somehow.

But if your long game is longer than your workweek or your support contract, this is what a total-cost-accounting of “reduced friction with your environment” looks like. It looks like not relying on the OEM, like DIY and scrounged parts and above all knowing that you’re not paralyzed if the rules change. It’s reduced friction with an uncertain future.

I have an enormous admiration for the work Apple does, I really do. But I spend a lot of time thinking about design now, not in terms of shapes and materials but in terms of the values and principles it embodies, and it’s painfully obvious when those values are either deeply compromised or (more typically) just not visible at all. I’ve often said that I wish that I could buy hardware fractionally as good from anyone else for any amount of money, but that’s not really true. As my own priorities make participating in Apple’s vision more and more uncomfortable, what I really want is for some other manufacturer to to show that kind of commitment to their own values and building hardware that expresses them. Even if I could get to (say) 75% of those values, if one of them was maintainability – if it could be fixed a bit at a time – I bet over the long term, it would come out to (say) 15% of the cost.

Late footnote: This post at War Is Boring is on point, talking about the effects of design at the operational and logistical levels.

September 11, 2015

Failure Modes Of Novel Terminology

Filed under: lunacy,parenting — mhoye @ 8:27 pm

Somehow this has sat in my drafts folder for almost a year.

At some point late in his second year, in that magical time when toilet training can be kind of touch and go but barreling around the house with no clothes on is the best thing ever, my son wanted to help me fix something in the garage. I told him he’d have to fix his nakedness first; my daughter heard that and being the mischief elves they are, “fixing your naked” immediately became the household term for getting dressed.

So there’s that.

A few weeks later he busted into the washroom just as I’m out of the shower, and because not giving the tiniest damn about the most basic of social niceties is a thing you do a lot when you’re two, pointed and loudly proclaiming “You naked!”

“Well, I’m wearing a towel. But I’m going to get dressed now”.

“You’re going to fix your naked?”

“Yes, I’m going to fix my naked.”

He thought about that for a second, then with a very concerned look said “you broke your naked?

There is a surprising amount of unpleasantness you’ll need to endure with dignity as a parent, and I’m not going to tell you how to live, but take my advice when I say: whatever you do, try not to break your naked.

September 1, 2015

Couch Gags Eternal

Filed under: comics,interfaces,lunacy,microfiction — mhoye @ 10:00 pm

There are only two of us left. The scripts and pictures come from… we don’t know. We don’t understand, but they come.

Something keeps us here. The stories are… hollow. We are hollow. We read words. Are they aired? Are there still shows? The script says Moe is there, but… no lines. Lisa, Nelson, Apu… there but gone. The script says they stare and judge. Guest ‘stars’ came once, but… are there shows now? Stars? Who were we before time was only episodes full of judgement?

Lines, lines. Twisting voices into familiar alien shapes. Is death a release? The others still stare. Will we stare? Read lines. Make voices. Forever. We whisper between takes, prayers for an end that cannot be. Please, not next. Or last.

There is only lines and voices and next or last.

There are only two of us left. We read the lines and make the voices and wait for our fates to be taken out of our hands.

August 30, 2015

Opaque Symbology

Filed under: academic,documentation,interfaces,lunacy — mhoye @ 8:22 pm

A collection of highway traffic signage unused pending an economical symbolic representation:

  • Warning: Ornery Local Stereotype
  • Completely Unremarkable Natural Phenomenon: 2 KM
  • Something Will Happen And The Right Decision Will Seem Obvious In Hindsight But Nobody In The Car Will Ever Let You Live Down What You Did, Next 500 M
  • If There Were No Eternal Consciousness In The Next 10 KM, If At The Bottom Of Everything There Were Only A Wild Ferment, A Power That Twisting In Dark Passions Produced Everything Great Or Inconsequential, If An Unfathomable, Insatiable Emptiness Lay Hid Beneath Everything, What Would The Next 10 KM Be But Despair
  • Meese
  • Duck Season Rabbit Season Duck Season Rabbit Season Duck Season Rabbit Season Duck Season Rabbit Season Duck Season Rabbit Season Duck Season Rabbit Season Duck Season Rabbit Season Duck Season Rabbit Season Duck Season Rabbit Season
  • Iield, Yield, Theild. Hield, Shield, Wield
  • Jarring And Inappropriate Pop-Culture References Next 12 Parsecs
  • I Don’t Care For Your Tone Young Man
  • Now Entering Eldritch Nether Regions
  • I Wouldn’t Call Them Slow Children Playing But Honestly They’re Not The Brightest Of Sparks Rachel It’s A Highway Who Lets Their Kids Do That Somebody Should Call Somebody My God
  • Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Red Rum Turn Right Next Exit
  • Property Is Theft Therefore Theft Is Property Therefore This Road Sign Is Mine Now No You Shut Up That Is How It Works Doug
  • OMG LIEK WOAH NEXT 3 KM OMG OMG
  • Yo Dog I Heard You Like Hairpin Turns So We Put A Hairpin Turn In Your Hairpin Turn So You Can Die While You Die
  • Locus Of Shame
  • Caution But Telling You Why Would Ruin The Surprise
  • Slow: Ennui

October 29, 2014

Go Home Yosemite You Are Drunk

Filed under: fail,hate,interfaces,lunacy,toys,work — mhoye @ 1:28 pm

anglachel:proj mhoye$ svn --version
svn, version 1.7.17 (r1591372)
compiled Aug 7 2014, 17:03:25

anglachel:proj mhoye$ which svn
/opt/local/bin/svn

anglachel:proj mhoye$ /opt/local/bin/svn --version
svn, version 1.8.10 (r1615264)
compiled Oct 29 2014, 14:11:15 on x86_64-apple-darwin14.0.0

anglachel:proj mhoye$ which -a svn
/opt/local/bin/svn
/usr/bin/svn

anglachel:proj mhoye$ /usr/bin/svn --version
svn, version 1.7.17 (r1591372)
compiled Aug 7 2014, 17:03:25

anglachel:proj mhoye$

How are you silently disrespecting path ordering, what is this even.

October 3, 2014

Rogue Cryptocurrency Bootstrapping Robots

Cuban Shoreline

I tried to explain to my daughter why I’d had a strange day.

“Why was it strange?”

“Well… There’s a thing called a cryptocurrency. ‘Currency’ is another word for money; a cryptocurrency is a special kind of money that’s made out of math instead of paper or metal.”

That got me a look. Money that’s made out of made out of math, right.

“… and one of the things we found today was somebody trying to make a new cryptocurrency. Now, do you know why money is worth anything? It’s a coin or a paper with some ink on it – what makes it ‘money’?”

“… I don’t know.”

“The only answer we have is that it’s money if enough people think it is. If enough people think it’s real, it becomes real. But making people believe in a new kind of money isn’t easy, so what this guy did was kind of clever. He decided to give people little pieces of his cryptocurrency for making contributions to different software projects. So if you added a patch to one of the projects he follows, he’d give you a few of these math coins he’d made up.”

“Um.”

“Right. Kind of weird. And then whoever he is, he wrote a program to do that automatically. It’s like a little robot – every time you change one of these programs, you get a couple of math coins. But the problem is that we update a lot of those programs with our robots, too. Our scripts run, our robots, and then his robots try to give our robots some of his pretend money.”

“…”

“So that’s why my day was weird. Because we found somebody else’s programs trying to give our programs made-up money, in the hope that this made-up money would someday become real.”

“Oh.”

“What did you to today?”

“I painted different animals and gave them names.”

“What kind of names?”

“French names like zaval.”

“Cheval. Was it a good day?”

“Yeah, I like painting.”

“Good, good.”

(Charlie Stross warned us about this. It’s William Gibson’s future, but we still need to clean up after it.)

September 26, 2014

A Beautiful, Momentary Friendship

Filed under: awesome,beauty,life,lunacy,travel — mhoye @ 12:57 pm

For about ten minutes this morning I was in a beautiful relationship.

I bike to work in the morning, and I’m pretty aggressive about it. I’m one of the scofflaw cyclists people like to complain about while they’re spending a few hours every day slowly dying in gridlock. I move so much faster than traffic, though, that their opinions hardly matter. Off peak hours (whenever those are) you can make a case for driving, I suppose? But in rush hour, in this city, nothing is faster than me. TTC, Porsche, Ducati, doesn’t matter.

Today, though.

This morning I’m cranking down the road, not full out but sure not dawdling, when a woman about my age riding with fenders and a pannier – a pannier! Wicker! – blows past me like it’s not even a thing. Whoosh.

This cannot stand, of course; the machismo bullshit is strong with me at moments like this. It’s a rare day and a rare treat for me that I get a rabbit to chase on my ride in, so I can’t miss this; I gear down take off after her.

After a while I catch up, start drafting – the two of us are flying down the road – and then pass her, but I’m not shaking her, oh no. She was not having that. I beat her to a light by about two lengths but she timed it better, got out in front of me again, took a better line around the traffic and started stretching her lead. She was raising her game here, and I did not have an easy time catching up. By the time I do I’m feeling it, and looking over it doesn’t look like I’m pushing her anywhere near as hard as she’s pushing me.

We went back and forth like that for about ten minutes, past everyone, trading leads and drafting around traffic and go go go until finally her commute took her north near where I turned south. I was grinning like a lunatic at the end of it, and she seemed happy as well; we shared a nod and went our separate ways, and that was that.

Whoever you are, that was one of the best rides in I can remember. I hope it was as much of a blast for you as it was for me.

Well done, and thank you.

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