I came across this idea, believe it or not, while at work. I had to take a moment to post about it; neat idea and possibly just the thing to save the day in the right situation, such as where it is inconvenient or impossible to bring a real tripod in to an event.
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Anger. Frustration. Despair. These are the emotions experienced by an otherwise rational person trying to decipher the apocryphal meaning concealed deep beneath the outer veneer of something disguised as language and otherwise known as a “simple” introduction to any programming language. Don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful that my fellow netizens – some of them, anyway – have taken the time to write pages and tutorials detailing their knowledge and understanding of such subjects in an organized way; that is one of the things that makes the open source community such a wonder for me. There is a pervasive ethos that is all about helping the other guy understand how things – code – work, or at least trying to do so. I have benefitted greatly from the knowledge and wisdom of others in this way, and I recognize that when one is presented with an equine gift, one ought not to studiously examine the nag’s teeth. But dude. If you’re going to take the time to write, in your “PHP 101” materials, the following sentence:
you should probably wait for a little bit longer than, oh, say THE NEXT PARAGRAPH to drop the term “development environment” on me. I need the Fisher-Price beginning. You know, I like to think that I’m a little more tech savvy than the ordinary guy; I operate and maintain this site, I’ve used open source software to convert .avi files from PAL to NTSC style video (and to re-synch the audio thereafter), I can bluff my way through simple image editing with the GIMP, I can spot (and trace) a simple spoofed email, and I taught myself my first programming language (FORTRAN) when I was ten, from a book that my Dad had brought home from work; I didn’t have a computer to actually run the programs I wrote in response to the “Problems” in the text, but my solutions were identical to those set out in the “Answers” portion of the book and by the time BASIC came along and I managed to somehow get a little face time with a Radio Shack TRS-80, I had an appreciation for the beauty of well-written code that I think was somewhat uncommon among fourteen year olds in 1980. All of that experience tells me that “development environment” likely has something to do with describing the virtual box within which the php code that I want to write will be created. I’m even relatively certain that the virtual box needs to be built “on” the web server that’s going to ultimately execute the php code that I write. But I wish to the Flying Spaghetti Monster that I wasn’t already guessing about shit like this, two paragraphs in to the lesson. I might have a little more confidence that this learning exercise isn’t going to be excruciatingly painful. Is it so hard to simply say, “Look, you’re going to need a place to write this code, and that place can’t be on your local computer, the one you have on your desk or your lap or whatever – it needs to be on something zippy and powerful like a web server, so you’re going to need to download an application and then put it on your server to make sure you’ve got a little php sandbox to play in.” Sigh. UPDATE: 10:45 p.m. and I’ve finished the first lesson. I have to give the author his props, the rest of the lesson was generally very comprehensible and not nearly the exercise in Stalinist self-denial I was expecting. It would seem, however, judging by some of the comments at the bottom of the post, that I’m not the only one who had a little trouble getting started:
You should pardon me over the next few days if this blog doesn’t get a lot of attention. I will try to sit down and tippy-tap out a few things here and there, but I am currently in one of my frequent “juggling many projects” modes. I’m working on a site for a charitable event that Spouse and I are involved in organizing. It’s a bicycle ride and a charity auction that are both scheduled for September; past experience demands that much of the organization happen right now, because over the summer it is hard to consistently locate people to bother them for donations, and once September begins there isn’t enough time to whip it all in to shape in just a couple weeks’ time – and still hold down the day job. Anyway, that project has gotten me into a situation where I think I need to learn a little basic php – I knew this day would come, kind of like having to visit the dentist – but I don’t have to be happy about it. So I’ll likely be busy trying to puzzle out the mysteries of some obscure technical manual transliterated into English from the original Swahili by a Polish-speaking monoglot. You know, the usual. I am also still hard at work on a certain video project that I hope to have posted to the site within the next week or two. Finally, there are a couple of work related tasks that need attending to this week if I am to depart for a week’s holiday in late June/early July with a semi-clear conscience. All this, and the lawn – once again – desperately needs cutting, as Juniorvania seems to have been transported into a weird sub-tropical climate in which it rains every day; only a little bit, mind you, but right after I arrive home from work, thus effectively preventing a successful mowing sortie. Juniorvania is once again becoming a bit of a sylvan wonder. As for tonight, I am to play chauffeur to my soon-to-be-drunken Spouse and sister-in-law. They are attending a shower thingy in honour of my soon-to-be other sister-in-law, and it seems a virtual certainty that a number of brave cocktails will lay down their lives in honour of the auspicious occasion. Mike posted this in my little article about Gord Kirke’s busy, busy schedule:
Obviously, this is waaaay funnier than what I wrote. It deserves a post of its own. Voilà. A while back, you may remember that I posted about a project that peach was putting Today, I learned that my submission has been chosen for inclusion in the book! First, a bit of business: I promised, when I submitted my piece that I would purchase the book (done: two hard copies ordered, one already downloaded), link to peach’s post about the book (done: back eyes up four words, please) and pimp the book herein upon publication. Consider it pimped; I have written to peach and hope to shortly get from her some code to put up on the site that makes ordering it easier than going wide on Andy Wozniewski; until then, you may order the book by clicking on this link and following the instructions that the nice people at lulu have written out for you on their website. Oh, and far be it from me to lay a guilt trip on members of my family to buy the book – just because it’s for such a good cause, and it represents the first demonstrable (albeit limited) proof of literacy within our tribe, I would never….ever….play the guilt trip card and suggest that if they really loved me, they’d buy a copy. That would be wrong. Now, I recognize that my published legacy to date is not an oeuvre whose heft quite approaches the breadth of the collected works of Tolstoy, but it seems to me that – as a published author now – I’ll be needing to make some changes in my life:
In the midst of all this happy news, one little thought is troubling me rather considerably at the moment: what if I am asked, as all wildly successful authors are, to give a public reading of my work? Although my delicious witticisms have been charmingly blessed (through talent, dedication and arduous labour, you understand) with a marvellous economy of prose indicative, I am sure, of natural genius, the net result is that – at 78 words in total – the necessarily abbreviated nature of any such reading may present as somewhat of a disappointment to my adoring public, being so slavishly devoted to the virtues of quality and substantially less acquainted with the merits of pith. For the moment, I have resolved as follows: should I be asked to give such a reading, I shall* stand before the hushed assembled crowd for a moment in silence, letting them take in the image of the author before them: clad in black turtleneck (suggestive of a seriousness of aspect), cargo pants (indicative of a pressing need to carry writing utensils, notepads and other secret writerly paraphernalia in close personal possession, lest inspiration strike unannounced) and fuzzy slippers (as discussed, enhancing the wryness of my clever take on modern life), I shall absently and distractedly raise bubble pipe to my grim countenance. I shall then loudly and abruptly recite only that portion of my composition consisting of vowels, resulting in a long, continuous guttural exclamation that will sound something like, “iaiiiooeoueioieaeiaeaioueaeioeooaaeaiaiaiaaa…”. I shall then do a terse – but meaningful – interpretive dance, and take my seat to the thunderous applause of the crowd. If anyone has the temerity to ask, I shall indicate that my reading is a piece of performance art that is a commentary – and a rather obvious one at that (suggesting, insidiously, that the questioner really ought to have been able to pick up on this for him or herself) – on man’s inhumanity toward man. If you can conceive of a superior strategy, I would be grateful if you would email me at once with the details. ————— * see? CTV announced today that it had acquired the rights to the iconic “Hockey Night in Canada” song. Most people ’round these parts seem to want to talk about how CBC was wrong-footed on this one; the conventional wisdom is that CBC looks foolish in failing to re-acquire a license for the tune. That may be so, although it seems to me likely that – had the Mother Corpse thrown a pile of money at the rights holder just to nail down the song – people would have been just as busy bellyaching about a publicly-funded broadcaster lavishing funds extravagantly on a mere overture to the weekly exhibition of hockey. Whatever the truth of the matter, my point is that patrons of donut shops coast to coast would – and do – have no shortage of second guessing and “obvious” wisdom to offer free of charge, delivered between gulps of coffee and with an accompanying spray of cruller dust, for the dunderhead bureaucrats and anyone else within earshot. My own parochial interest was piqued more by this little chestnut, hidden near the end of the linked article:
Yes, that’s right, the CBC wanted to hire Gord Kirke – THAT Gord Kirke! The one that’s supposed to be taxed to the max by his many demanding duties on the committee the Toronto Maple Leafs have struck to find The One, the G.M. that will lead Leafs fans into the promised land after our own little version of Exodus, lo these forty years (yes, that was a cheap “1967” reference. I’m entitled to one a year.) WTF? Haven’t the Leafs been assuaging the worst fears of their fans – that the lack of obvious activity towards achieving this goal is in fact reflective of the actual level of activity going on within MLSE – by assuring us all that a very thorough and exhaustive search was being conducted in order to identify the perfect candidate for the position, and that the organization would not be rushed into making a selection simply for the sake of having someone in place come draft day? Haven’t they in effect been telling us that Gord Kirke and the rest of the committee are busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest, and don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, they’ve rolled up their sleeves, they’re pulling all-nighters on this one, but dammit we’re gonna do the job right? Doesn’t it sound a little bit like that’s all – and this next passage is a technical term, please try to follow along – bullshit? To me, this sounds a little like Mr. Kirke is the kind of “busy” that you used to be when your Mom asked you to mow the lawn: “Oh, wow, I’d love to, Mom, but I’ve got this killer report due in third period geography on Tuesday, and the Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment board is also kind of hoping I’d have a GM hired by then.” In other words, too busy to mow the lawn, but NOT too busy to go whip donuts at passing buses with your best buddy. If Gord Kirke and the search committee is so damn busy, how the hell does he have time to be even considering taking other jobs? I appreciate the fact that the story indicates CBC was approaching Kirke, rather than the other way around, I wonder what other occupations and pre-occupations might currently be engaging Mr. Kirke, in addition to his many exhausting headhunting labours on behalf of the Bay Street Mint? He could be:
Seriously, Gord and his buddies couldn’t convey their intentions any more clearly at this point if they hired a skywriter to author an airborne message to the following effect: “Dude. Chill out. We totally have Brian Burke’s phone number. He just has to work some shit out, man.” I am sorry to keep you in suspense about the maiden voyage of the JMV* Eradicator and the fate of its brave pilot. You will understand that this has been an important epoch in Juniorvanian history, a matter of utmost importance to National Security, and that radio silence has, accordingly, been the order of the day. Now that the critical moments have passed, I don’t think it’s telling tales out of school if I confirm that:
It is possible that the public relations officer for the Juniorvanian Ministry of Science, Industry and Exploration may well authorize release to the public of some (no doubt heavily edited) such footage. Interested persons are asked to continue consulting this website for updated information as it becomes available. In other news, despite the heightened security hereabouts, there was an interstellar tourist in Juniorvania this weekend. Calling himself “Richard”, a fellow from the planet Lummox (previously sighted only in the vicinity of fishing vacation hideaways) alighted on Juniorvanian ground Saturday afternoon. Diplomatic relations were quickly established, with the alien visitor very kindly presenting the traditional offering of greetings (for Lummoxes) of bamboo (five shoots; health!), bratwurst and sauerkraut. High-ranking Juniorvanian officials held an audience with the visiting Richard, and learned much about the employment customs of his people. Evidently, it is customary for Lummoxian companies to hire individuals for the purpose of completing a project to which no resources are devoted and for which all necessary approvals are, accordingly, withheld. In order to expedite the accomplishment of absolutely nothing, it is thought to be beneficial for many people to be fired, downsized, or lose their job as part of an advertising promotion, leaving the project managers with no staff, no direct supervision, no budget, and no authorization to proceed with the task at hand. ————– * “JMV” = “Juniorvanian Mowing Vehicle” Mike: You can exhale, uncross your fingers and toes, uncover your eyes, put down the four-leaf clovers, and – for heaven’s sake – let the rabbit have his feet back. The Wings’ Cup championship was well deserved; they outlplayed their rivals from Steeltown, and it would have been an unjust result had they not prevailed. There had to be a few million Maalox consumed in the Motor City, though, following the harrowing final seconds of the game, with Osgood down and a loose puck bouncing – like deja vu – to the right of the goal and a Pittsburgh attacker whacking away at it with his stick as the clock. Ticked. Slowly. Down. In other hockey news, the Leafs have apparently made Ron Wilson an offer. The guy has put up some decent numbers with teams in the regular season, he was at the helm of the Capitals (failed) run to the final in 1998, and he coached the U.S. team to victory in the 1996 World Cup, but it’s somewhat troubling to me that the Leafs – professing a desire not just to qualify for the playoffs each year, but to actually win the Stanley Cup – are hiring a guy that was just fired for, at least in part, not being able to get that job done. I worry too that much of Wilson’s success came in the obstruction/holding era of the late 90’s. On the other hand, Wilson’s teams have tended to be pretty good on both power play and penalty kill – two areas that were absolutely woeful for the Leafs this year. Again I say, it’s almost impossible for an outsider – someone outside the dressing room – to really know whether a hockey coach is “good” or not. So only time will tell, assuming Wilson takes the job, whether this was the right decision. But Messrs. Peddie and Tanenbaum need to look over their blue and white clad shoulders – with 11 Cup championships now, the Wings are fast catching the Leafs in the “number of championships won” category. I spent the early part of my life hoping that Mike Palmateer and Darryl Sittler would propel the Leafs past the hated bleu, blanc et rouge to the top of that list at some point in my lifetime; now I just hope we don’t get passed by the likes of the cephalopod-waving juggernaut from Hockeytown.
“With stout hearts, and with enthusiasm for the contest, let us go forward to victory.”– Viscount Montgomery, to his troops on the eve of the D-Day invasion, which was not delayed by rain. First there was this:
Then there was this:
Now, there is this:
A lesser man might assume that the fact that his former mower tried to kill him, leading to the costly (but extremely exciting) purchase of a brand spankin’ new authentic JD tractor – combined with the delivery of the said new mower in the middle of what would appear to be the heretofore unknown Juniorvanian monsoon season, making the actual riding or use of said mower hazardous and/or silly – is evidence that there is a spiteful God in the heavens bent on destroying all joy on earth. Of course we – I – couldn’t entirely pass up the opportunity to climb aboard and live the John Deere experience. Some related observations:
Your faithful correspondent will, of course, post an update on the first mowing. Weather permitting. |
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