David Ryland Scott Robinson

STP 2008

2008-07-19T07:00:21Z

STP! No, no wait! I meant STP!

noisybastard and I planned finishing in a single day. We then woke up two and a half hours late.

It was the world’s most relaxing back to back centuries. (riding 100 miles) And, this time not on a cruiser bike.

Highlights?

Cross-dressers on cross bikes.
Running into friends like Katie J., Aden, and Elise.
Camping under the stars at Centralia College.
20 mph “sprints” for 50 miles.

And, I even rode to work the next day.

I can see the future.

2008-07-19T06:59:43Z

I’m increasingly becoming addicted to flickr.

David, one of my best friends in high school, would take me out on evening photo trips. I would borrow my Father’s Topcon and try my hardest to not be terrible. It’s better for mankind that none of those exposures made it past the negatives.

Since the Topcon went away, I’ve gone from borrowed camera to borrowed camera. And, I’ve built up a modest set of galleries. But, next week, things will never be the same!

The following items have been shipped to you by Amazon.com: --------------------------------------------------------------------- Qty Item Price Shipped Subtotal --------------------------------------------------------------------- Amazon.com items (Sold by Amazon.com, LLC): 1 Transcend 4GB SDHC CARD (S... $15.65 1 $15.65 1 Canon PowerShot SD770IS 10... $241.24 1 $241.24 1 Canon PSC-1000 Deluxe Blue... $14.10 1 $14.10 Shipped via DHL (Delivered by USPS) Tracking number: 23653128586

It’s a good little point and shoot. When I want to go full manual, there will still be two film bodies and Sam’s A410.

¡Sí, se puede!

2008-07-19T06:38:43Z

I’m back from Cuba. This has been the case for two weeks now.

I don’t have anything to add to my letters. The visit gave me a different appreciation on my life at home. I think that’s a good return on my investment.

And, isn’t that what travel is about?

noisybastard brought a digital camera and took some vibrant pictures. Meanwhile, Sam and I took two film cameras: an EOS, and FTb. Most of these developed shots, in my opinion, are more true to how I felt life was there...

Gritty.

The end.

2008-07-07T02:06:19Z

Dear Sarah, It's the last day. We're so far ahead in our budget, Sam has made the well regarded decision to "live like Kings." This means taking taxis to visit the last of the sights in Habana: the Monument of Jose Marti and the Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabana. The monument is located in the center of Revolution Plaza. Jose Marti is a national hero to a degree that may be hard to appreciate. Sam disagrees; but, I don't feel we have any equivalently worshiped personalities. Regardless, the monument is a towering structure of concrete. It makes an imposing image in the skyline - vultures actually circle its heights. When Castro makes his appeals to "direct democracy," it is at the steps off the monument. We paid 6 CUC$ a piece to get entry. There's a museum in the base, dedicated to not just Marti, but the pantheon of Cuban heroes. (the most recent is Che Guevara.) In the center is an elevator - express to the top! Or, almost the top. The observation deck is small, with windows providing a view of all of Habana. On the floors are misaimed compasses, with distances in kilometers to the great cities of the world. The fort was far more interesting. It sprawled several acres. And, it was literally littered with cannon. Cannonballs could be found stacked in piles at every turn. The walls were tall and study, and the inside well protected. Funnily, the massive fortress was one of the most expensive of its time. (Spanish colonial) But, it was also never used. Too fearsome, perhaps? Standing on the highest of its parapets was an odd experience. I thought about how the defense of this harbor was apparently vital so many hundreds of years ago. Countries don't war over the bay now; because, despite so much potential here, there is so much to be had elsewhere. We're ready to leave. Chris had stomach sickness last night. My appetite and strength have long since returned. But, my bowels are still unsteady. Sam is the only one of us to not have been nauseous but, his tacit admission of finally being sick of mango is damning. This nation of constant revolution and politics, a place with police on every corner, and informants on every floor... it drives you to develop your own political thought. I intentionally avoid this mindset normally. But it's so hard to escape now. I find myself reflecting on how to describe the freedom of choice. Sabado,

This letter was never completed.

2008-07-07T01:58:32Z

Dear Sarah, It's impossible to shop for souvenirs in this country. Everywhere we go, no matter if we enter a storefront or stroll through an open air market, we see the same things. Sam made the poignant statement, "the problem is they don't make anything in this country." Chris thinks everything is made in China. They do have art. A lot of it. But not much outside of the "deco" that here is a characterization of kitschiness.

7

2008-07-07T01:56:50Z

Dear Sarah, There is a lot I want you to know about. But, since I rambled in my previous letter, instead I'll try to stay on a topic of mutual interest. "What were the three greatest defeats in the Revolution?" "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner." It isn't that Cuban's can't or don't cook. Instead, it's difficult to obtain stocks or ingredients of any sort when everything is regulated. It has been only recently that community farms and coops became legal. There's a farmer's market in Habana, but it's more tourist trap than local gathering. There are four classes of establishments where we can eat: (all regulated) 1. Restaurants - these can be inside hotels, or on streets. But they're all expensive ripoffs. 2. Street vendors - these can vary from ice cream vendors to refrescos, pizzas to the very common bread and ham sandwich. 3. Paladares - these are people's homes that are open to foreigners. Heavily taxed and often cracked down upon, the government doesn't like them because they smack of private enterprise. 4. Casa particulars - it's required they serve us one meal a day. The best options are the paladares and the casa's. It's tragic, but for 10 CUC$ a piece, we get to eat incredible meals these families wish for every day. On Monday, when we couldn't finish up, we hoped they ate our leftovers. The national food of Cuba is rice and beans. Which, before certain times in college, I would have thought depressing and bland. But, every meal we've had has been delicious! The rice varies - it's usually short grained and bleached. The beans are black and spiced. We mix the two with the rest of our meal to great result. Beef is illegal to everyone except Cuban Jews. The meats of Cuba are pork and chicken. Fried chicken, baked chicken, and cooked pork. And evertyhing is left in their natural juices up to their serving. Breakfast, lunch and dinner comes with mango. It's first skinned and then sliced off. And, it's juicy and delicious without fail. Sam devours all he can - his hunger for citrus has been unsated even by the Carribean. But, it I can find it so good in the States, I definitely have found a new fruit to love. Oddly, it's always served with a dash of sugar. "Ensalada" is the term used for sliced tomatoes, onions and avocado. Then, sprinkle some salt on top. Sam and I leave the avocados to Chris, and Sam leaves the tomatoes to Chris and me. I feast and mix it with everything. I like Cuban salads. Rice, beans, meat, mango and "salad." That's a typical Cuban meal. Of course, there are drinks. In the morning, it's a cup of coffee to get you going. And, orange juice with sugar added during breakfast. In the evening, it's "tuKola" made with "sugar and/or corn syrup." If you want water, you have to ask. Humorously, I'm eating the most sustainably I have ever - possibly in my life. You've talked about urban farms, there is one right outside my building! Gardens are community plots and produce is sold as such. Livestock is less common. We've seen chickens. But, cows and larger animals are all on the outskirts of town. As are the larger impact fields like rice, beans and sugar. Supposedly, the best Cuban cuisine is in Miami. But, they're strongly proud about one local culinary variation: ice cream. Coppella is a dedicated park to it. Yeras ago, there was even a competition to have more flavors than Baskin-Robbins. But, it's less fancy now. Regarldess, we all enjoyed a glass of strawberry ice cream in the shade. It was, and I'm sure is becoming monotonous, delicious. Every house receives a crockpot and rice cooker. But, given what I've seen, I think people would kill for a blender like your Annihilatrix. I miss it, with it came nice things. Miercoles,

The beach. I'm still sick.

2008-07-07T01:56:40Z

Dear Sarah, Thursday morning, I woke up at 5am. We went to sleep very early on Wednesday evening. But I didn't start so early because I had slept enough. Just nightmares. I dreamed about everyone I love. It was a set of monologues with short scenery changes acting as some semblance of a story. Each person would talk about their goals and hard work. No one explicity said it, but the common subtext was clear. My existence and constant laziness was an impediment to them. The last one, and the one I woke up from, was you. I remember it becuase the character was you - but the body wasn't. Your hair was cut. Your physique was tougher, and your posture aggressive. I tried to say how it wasn't my intention to stand in your life's path. But, I had no voice and "your" words cut enough to end my slumber. Or, maybe it was the heat. The humidity and temperature here are both hihg. There are two seasons: sunny and rainy. The only difference is that in one, it rains. For our visit, the rain has mostly confined itself to the afternoon. Those showers are harkened by the familiar smell and last for hours. Being caught in them means never drying off. Our casa is inland, in the "uninterested" central district of Habana. The morning heat starts early, as we miss the costal breeze. As does the noise and bustle, since the reason our district is considered "uninteresting" is because people live here. As foreigners aren't allowed to talk to locals, goes the thinking, what could possibly be the reason for visiting? My mood is still somber. I feel it comes across in my writing. Since my ability to communicate is one-way, I find myself imagining what's happened with you at home. Did you finish the move? How is your feasibility study starting up? Have you thought about local Native-American traditional diets? I presume by the time I return, you will have purchased tickets for Los Angeles. While I want to be with you for your birthday, I hope you didn't book your ticket to return Thursday. You're closer to your family than I am to mine; and, I feel it's important to be with the people who have and continue to stand by you. We're going to the beach today. Actually, I'm at the beach right now. (I write these letters over the course of hours.) The thought in our minds is that a day of laziness will do our moods an improvement. The first beach we tried to visit, Terará, used to be the happening location. It since has been barred to tourists without proper documentation. Our taxi driver tried warning us against it; but, we were determined. Unfortunately, there was little success to be found arguing at the police checkpoint. Instead, we moved on to Playa de Este. Which is actually a collection of beaches. We arrived at the first, de Mégano, arranged return transport by 5pm, and set off. The beaches is mixed with few tourists and more Cubans. It's also well patrolled. Minutes after finding a palm to base from, a guard warned us of theives. "mas ojos!" Keep our eyes on our belongings. These are teh first real idyllic beaches I've been on. The wind and sea keeps the air humid but cool. The sand doesn't blow because it's coarse. The water is warm and green to blue. The sun isn't oppressive today so a lone and ragged palm is more than enough shade to provide comfort. I write and watch, feeling better. Sam walks and is a happier jerk. Chris reads my literal copy of the Motorcycle Diaries, and is a smiling annoyance. I love my companions. And, I love and miss you, Thursday.

Happier now. Still sick.

2008-07-07T01:56:28Z

Dear Sarah, The water was refreshing. The taste of it in my mouth was saltier than the Pacific ever was. After mentioning this to Sam, we proceeded to argue in the water for twenty minutes about my "dubious claims." While we tossed logical fallacies between us, ("If I can taste the difference between fresh and salt water, why can't I taste the difference in levels of salinity?" "That is the worst strawman I have ever heard. I would have stuck with my heated water retains more salt argument." "You know what else holds more when I get it hot?") I watched a couple make love in the surf. They soon discovered a seemingly under-broadcasted truth. Sex in water sucks. Thursday, and thinking of you.

"I miss your laughs."

2008-07-07T01:55:55Z

Dear Sarah, I'm drunk. It's early Friday morning and Chris and I have been wandering Centro y Vedado Habana looking for booze and trouble. We certainly found the former. I just finished reading Sam's travelogue up to this point and realized that I haven't been saying anything of import. I'm sure what we're doing is far more interesting than my thoughts combined with the occasional anecdote. I think I have forgotten how to write events. Chris wanted to drink, and not dance, tonight. So, after stopping by the first casa to get suggestions, we set out toward La Torree and the Jazz Club in Western (Vedado) Habana. The former was closed. And, it's adjacent bar was too fancy and too boring. We moved on, and arrived at the Jazz Bar just in time for the end of a Sol band and the beginning of the top 40 rotation. (1980 - 2000) A group of Japanese travelers sat nearby us and I made enough rudimentary conversation for them to share drinks, dances and finally when the bar closed, goodbyes with us. Who knew Spanish was taught in Japan? (the letter devolves into a drunken experiment that I'll show you when I get home.)

7-2, 17:00 (Cuba)

2008-07-04T00:26:11Z

Dear Sarah, There is a lot I want you to know about. But, since I rambled in my previous letter, instead I'll try to stay on a topic of mutual interest. "What were the three greatest defeats in the Revolution?" "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner." It isn't that Cuban's can't or don't cook. Instead, it's difficult to obtain stocks or ingredients of any sort when everything is regulated. It has been only recently that community farms and coops became legal. There's a farmer's market in Habana, but it's more tourist trap than local gathering. There are four classes of establishments where we can eat: (all regulated) 1. Restaurants - these can be inside hotels, or on streets. But they're all expensive ripoffs. 2. Street vendors - these can vary from ice cream vendors to refrescos, pizzas to the very common bread and ham sandwich. 3. Paladares - these are people's homes that are open to foreigners. Heavily taxed and often cracked down upon, the government doesn't like them because they smack of private enterprise. 4. Casa particulars - it's required they serve us one meal a day. The best options are the paladares and the casa's. It's tragic, but for 10 CUC$ a piece, we get to eat incredible meals these families wish for every day. On Monday, when we couldn't finish up, we hoped they ate our leftovers. The national food of Cuba is rice and beans. Which, before certain times in college, I would have thought depressing and bland. But, every meal we've had has been delicious! The rice varies - it's usually short grained and bleached. The beans are black and spiced. We mix the two with the rest of our meal to great result. Beef is illegal to everyone except Cuban Jews. The meats of Cuba are pork and chicken. Fried chicken, baked chicken, and cooked pork. And everything is left in their natural juices up to their serving. Breakfast, lunch and dinner comes with mango. It's first skinned and then sliced off. And, it's juicy and delicious without fail. Sam devours all he can - his hunger for citrus has been unsated even by the Caribbean. But, it I can find it so good in the States, I definitely have found a new fruit to love. Oddly, it's always served with a dash of sugar. "Ensalada" is the term used for sliced tomatoes, onions and avocado. Then, sprinkle some salt on top. Sam and I leave the avocados to Chris, and Sam leaves the tomatoes to Chris and me. I feast and mix it with everything. I like Cuban salads. Rice, beans, meat, mango and "salad." That's a typical Cuban meal. Of course, there are drinks. In the morning, it's a cup of coffee to get you going. And, orange juice with sugar added during breakfast. In the evening, it's "tuKola" made with "sugar and/or corn syrup." If you want water, you have to ask. Humorously, I'm eating the most sustainably I have ever - possibly in my life. You've talked about urban farms, there is one right outside my building! Gardens are community plots and produce is sold as such. Livestock is less common. We've seen chickens. But, cows and larger animals are all on the outskirts of town. As are the larger impact fields like rice, beans and sugar. Supposedly, the best Cuban cuisine is in Miami. But, they're strongly proud about one local culinary variation: ice cream. Coppella is a dedicated park to it. Yeras ago, there was even a competition to have more flavors than Baskin-Robbins. But, it's less fancy now. Regardless, we all enjoyed a glass of strawberry ice cream in the shade. It was, and I'm sure is becoming monotonous, delicious. Every house receives a crockpot and rice cooker. But, given what I've seen, I think people would kill for a blender like your Annihilatrix. I miss it, with it came nice things. Miercoles,

Wherein I ramble to my girlfriend.

2008-07-02T22:29:39Z

Dear Sarah, It´s Tuesday and I have been in Cuba for three days. I was unsure of my Spanish speaking abilities before I came - even more so than when I last used them. In the time I´ve been here I have learned a new formula. 1. Island´s Fast Talk + Snakes + Spanish = espanol Cuabana. People are varied. Friendly, industrious, and straight-forward. But, because of the situation, also suspicious, conniving and desperate. Habana´s economy is built on tourism. And, not the same way as -say- a resort town. The CUC$ (the currency for foreigners) is the only way for anyone to get beyond their state-provided means. So, begging, prostitution, and scams are the rule. The worst is I want to help. I think about when Sam and I were debating about purchasing the PS3. That same amount of money could change someone´s political standing. Oh, and the politics here are clearly the game. There are CDR´s (committee for defense of the revolution) on every block. Everyone is a member and the local jefe´s are known by everyone - and, hold a lot of sway. As an example, our first casa particular (private home) was full. So the women there called a neighbor and found us rooms. That new place is ran by a wonderful old woman. Her son has done very well for himself and clearly has local sway. Her daughter-in-law is no-nonsense, smart and business minded. She also speaks a little English. Tht couple lives nicely. And, they found out where we were changing accomidations. I found myself awoke the next morning to meet one of the women from the first casa. We wouldn´ be able to stay there. ¨visa problems¨ Not ours. Not theirs. Maybe their other guests. Very evasive. But, Julia was estatic. (¨feliz feliz feliz!¨) we would be staying. Decision done. But that isn´t as important as culture! Cuban´s don´t really know much about the world too much. Their newspapers, TVs, and radios are inward focused. And, Yanquis in particular are rare here. They´re curious up to a safe point - I haven´t really been alone with any yet to have private conversations. Musical, and dancing are ubiquitious. Growing up, I was taught a stereotype of latin-american and african-american having music in their hearts.. or something. (Ridiculous) No one I have mt quite matches the degree obtained by having singing and dancing as the only outlets. In our first nighty, we stopped at a cabaret and were offered two women. We politely declined. They politely didn´t care and sat down anyway. Within minutes, I was invited to salsa dance. Fail. And, damn, if it wasn´t more embarrassing than any other time. Everyone dances. There is one other outlet - alcohol. Cubans love their rum. (ron) The native rum if Habana Club. Which is cheap and plentiful. It´s no surprise the Bacardi corporation lobbies heavily to keep the blockade. There are two national beers here too: Bucanero and Cristal. Both are forgettable. We spent Tuesday evening drinking cristal with a British guy named Casper. It was like college again - chugging piss water. I´d be remiss if I didn´t mention the people´s looks. Every ethnicity is represented here. Society is integrated, mixed and not racist. And hot. For us, attractive women try to pull our attentions everywhere. But, it´s the same for men too. There is a level of sexual liberty here that assaults my relatively puritan upbringing. Poor Casper had been here a month and was desperate to get home to his girlfriend. I´m half a week in, and I can appreciate his condition. I think this has gone on long enough. I have to blog it because encryption is banned. I´ll write more soon... and ramble less.

Operation Cube-Land

2008-06-29T13:01:31Z

I'm in the Towne Hotel. It's 9am, and I am just getting over a case of food poisoning.

We're leaving for the airport in a few minute. Which means in scant hours from now, I'll be in Cuba.

Cuba.

We didn't plan this trip very well.

... oh my God, I'm excited. I'm going to one of the world's last Potemkin Villages!

Also, don't expect me to eat seafood for several months.

(This disjointed LiveJournal post brought to you by exhaustion.)

Weaning myself off Tara

2008-06-18T05:10:28Z

As far back as I can remember, I wanted a computer of my own.

The first computer I was given wide latitude upon was my mother’s Apple IIc. Arguably, my experiences on it fundamentally broke me for all future computing. After it died, the first time, I got time on an XT.

The first machine I had exclusive control over was a 386. By that point, I had stolen time on computers wherever and whenever I could. And, I had accessed the Internet thanks to the lax network security at the University of Washington. I found Linux. I named the 386: “fuzzy toilet”

I’ve since standardized my naming scheme: women I had crushes on and got nowhere with.

Years and women passed. The last desktop I purchased was in 1999. She was dubbed Tara. And, with her, I learned that data is more important than the hardware containing it.

The originally purchased hardware for Tara doesn’t exist. The motherboards, CPUs, hard drives, video cards, sound cards, network cards, keyboards, mice, and monitors have all warn out and been replaced. Many times. But, the original installation of Linux on Tara still exists.

scott@tara:~$ [0] ls -al .bash_logout -rw-r–r– 1 scott scott 24 1999-07-20 19:09 .bash_logout

That’s a heart warming story of a boy and his computer.

But, Scott got older and finally started outgrowing Tara. My friend William pressured me into purchasing a laptop. The day I installed Ubuntu on Geneva was the last day of my preferred use of desktops. It was a matter of time before I transitioned completely:

scott@tara:~/.gaim/logs$ [0] find ./ -name ????-??-??.*.txt -printf “%f\n” | sort | tail -1 | cut -c -10 2005-05-31

Which left Tara as a server. E-mail, web, storage, shell and long running tasks. Damn, girl!

But, for the last three years I’ve been neglectful. Yes, there are backups. And monitoring. However, I don’t exactly feel comfortable with a large part of my life sitting on machine with no eyes on it and hardware older than children that can speak.

Which is a very long way of saying I’ve been transitioning my services off Tara. To other members of my increasing harem. And, this gives me an excuse to talk about virtualization.

Stay tuned.

Free shiz

2008-06-17T08:45:25Z

I feel kind of like a jerk of a friend, not mentioning this earlier.

Microsoft has this deal called “cashback from Live Search.” The idea is that you search using Live, and from select stores you’ll get sweet savings.

One of those select stores is eBay. And, the sweet savings is 35% off for up to $250. Three times.

Use Live Search.
Search for “zune”
Click the “Live Search cashback” link in the Sponsored Sites for eBay.
Ok, now you have 60 minutes to buy whatever on eBay. some terms and conditions apply...

Meanwhile, I ♥ you, in particular.

bzrshelve, a punchline to a bad joke

2008-06-17T08:02:48Z

The joke has been long coming.

Back when I was still on reddit, a short meme hit where someone wrote a little hack that made frontpage. The title is what must have sold it, as there wasn’t any there - there.

“Using Git as a versioned data store in Python” aka gitshelve.

A few days later, of course, hgshelve came into existence.

It’s telling that the Bazaar community never got into the action. I can imagine good arguments for both that scene being too small, or too busy getting work done.

Fortunately, I have no such issue. Behold: bzrshelve.

And the only DVCS that can get the source is svk.

Happy Key Revocation Tuesday

2008-06-17T07:41:35Z

Almost one month ago, Florian Weimer on behalf of the Debian Security Team announced one of the worst security vulnerabilities in recent history. I won’t go into a technical description of the problem itself. But, it’s interesting to note how Debian both succeeded and failed, how this vulnerability broke the “patch to stay secure” model, and how it personally impacted me.

On Debian…

First, Debian is an all volunteer organization that created and maintains the largest integrated body of code. Ever. The Debian “operating system” is far larger than Microsoft Windows or Mac OS X - they can barely be compared. That a security vulnerability could lay in any package undiscovered for years is unsurprising.

But, once discovered, Debian’s security team promptly released an update of the affected packages fixing the flaw. In the same announcement for the update, there was an included link to a page that promised to have instructions on how to actually close the holes. That page wasn’t filled in until over a day later.

Of course, the wiki page had helpful information within 30 minutes.

Are you saying getting the security update didn’t fix my computer?

Yes. The problem wasn’t a matter of fixing the user’s software but fixing their data. The security keys they thought weren’t. The software to make new keys was provided; but, any Debian user that wasn’t subscribed to the right mailing list wouldn’t have known about the further action necessary. (Though, to be fair, the OpenSSH package at least warns about vulnerable keys on update.)

In fact, the average Debian user would be hard pressed to find any mention of the vulnerability. It wasn’t a front page news item. OpenSSL, and all dependent packages, fail to provide any alert on upgrade. Worse, the Certificate Authorities still haven’t revoked certificates for compromised keys. That means the SSL aura of trust has been devalued even more.

It would be an interesting, and expensive, experiment to see how many CAs will EV sign one of the compromised keys.

On me…

Meanwhile, tonight, I finally finished with “key rollover” on all my affected services.

tara: No services effected. (Too old.)
steak: No services effected. (Too old.)
megan: SSH, SMTP / IMAP, XMPP
resa: SSH
Personal keys: EECS, wsunix, Planet EECS, tara, megan, nearlyfreespeech

Gosh, I hope I got everything. Each of those only took about five hours apiece.

Of course, some people did make it easier. I already shouted out to the wiki page earlier. But, of everything and everyone who should have been doing their jobs, one group stood out and another one embarrassed itself:

From: “NearlyFreeSpeech.NET Member Support”
Subject: [NearlyFreeSpeech.NET] Potentially weak ssh key detected
Date: Wed, 14 May 2008 12:30:00 -0400

Hello

You are being contacted because an ssh key vulnerability in Debian-
derived Linux systems has been detected that may affect you.

…

Wow. Thanks!

From: “XMPP CertMaster”
Subject: XMPP SSL Certificate revoked, 09:12 pm 13 Jun 2008
Date: Fri, 13 Jun 2008 21:12:48 +0300

This mail is intended for the person who owns a SSL Certificate from the XMPP Intermediate Certification Authority (http://www.xmpp.net).

Your certificate with serial number 890 has been revoked for the following reason(s):

- The holder / owner of the certificate requested revocation.

You can’t blame the XMPP Federation. They don’t actually run a CA, they subcontract. I hope Peter isn’t paying much… as I’d say him having to write a notice of the vulnerability was not his money’s worth.

In, quite possibly. my most boring post yet.

2008-06-03T07:55:15Z

About wasting less time and blogging more... it’s easier said than done.

Adding personalities was an experiment. I got a view into the drama of A-list and B-list bloggers. Nice for them; but, mostly an incredible waste of time for me.

In hindsight this should have been obvious. No one, except me, is interesting 100% of time. This is an existence proof for my LiveJournal.

But, some people are excellent filters for interesting things. Anarchaia, the first tumblelog, is what made me think there was value in subscribing to personalities. Well worth reading if you’re smart or a little computer sciency.

None of this helps me. I need to feed my mind with the latest happenings. My environment is my inspiration.

Except, I have constructed a perfect echobox of Web 2.crap. Ok, new rules:

No more visiting Facebook. Or Reddit. Or Hacker News.
Google Reader has comics. And people I know.

When combined with the previous purges, I’m left with close to no input from the Internet. IM and e-mail. Did I mention I switched IM accounts? Did I mention I unsubscribed from mailing lists?

And, yes, it’s difficult to rationalize being subscribed to people’s blogs when I won’t read my friends page.

This should leave plenty of room for real life. And blogging about it.

Renewed literacy

2008-05-24T23:43:34Z

My commute includes two bus rides through the worst of Seattle traffic. My evenings rarely leave me wanting to stare at a computer screen. And my weekends are spent with my friends.

Thanks to this new work-life balance, I have rediscovered books.

A few years ago, I top-loaded my Media to Consume note with the ALA’s list of most frequently banned / challenged books. After those come a large set of philosophy texts included half from curiosity, and half because “why should only liberal arts majors swoon the ladies?” Finishing it off are instructionals on the practice of programming.

Since January, here is what I will admit to having finished:

“A Christmas Carol,” Charles Dickens
“All Quiet on the Western Front,” Erich Maria Remarque
“An American Tragedy,” Theodore Dreiser
“Beautiful Code,” Andy Oram and Greg Wilson (Editors)
“Emotional Design: Why We Love (or Hate) Everyday Things,” Donald Norman
“Moneyball,” Michael M. Lewis
“Parliament of Whores,” PJ O’Rourke
“The Omnivore’s Dilemma,” Michael Pollan

I’m finishing, starting, and working through every exercise: (respectively)

“The Design of Everyday Things,” Donald Norman
“The Practice of Programming,” Brian Kernighan and Rob Pike
“Structure and Interpretation of Computer Programs,” Abelson and Sussman

All were time well spent. That’s why I provide convenient links. Because I care. Even though, I use the library.

What are you reading?

Nothing ever fits.

2008-05-21T07:46:39Z

I want to blog. But I’m too tired to write anything of substance.

I want to talk about Kirk’s wedding. It was fun!

I want to talk about my bike. I rode with Point 83 and had a blast.

I want to talk about my joke, bzrshelve, and the not so funny Kademlia based Dynamo knockoff. But, that would go on my other blog.

I want to talk about the NearlyFreeHosting and their customer support on Happy Key Revocation Tuesday. But, again, other blog.

I want to talk about work. But, that’s depressing.

There’s more. Unfortunately, it’s time to sleep.

I will never be a software architect

2008-05-08T02:14:36Z

Disclaimer: this may be be a Seattle area phenomenon.

I have “software architect” on my resume, and it pains me. Wikipedia has a great article on what a software architect may or may not be. But, in my world, a software architect has the knowledge, insight and responsibility to make educated decisions about the scope and direction of a team-developed software project.

That was a mouthful.

Software architects pick frameworks. They find previously existing packages for functionality just before the rest of the team realizes they need it. And, they plan and communicate how all the moving parts will come together. They’re really-really smart.

Everyone wants to be a software architect. At Seattle’s Startup Weekend, no less than a third of the developers signed up as architects. And why not?! The act of creation - from art to programming - is egotistical. If you’ve ever referred to yourself as a “software engineer” with a straight face, then you’re advertising the capability to plan non-trivial projects.

You’re a liar.

Software is big. You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it’s a long way down the road to the chemist’s, but that’s just peanuts to software.

With all apologies to Douglas Adams. Software projects are the most complex machines created in the history of invention. You’re telling me that you can do better than Leonardo Da Vinci, Thomas Edison, or the Wright Brothers? Because each of those iconic figures were geniuses driven to create simpler machines than a web application. And each was wrong up front.

This isn’t a fair comparison. We have Photoshop, Digi-Key, and kit airplanes. Also, Rails!

Those inventors were forging into unknown territory. Customizing a CMS or integrating SAP ERP into a SOA are known quantities. It could be argued the architect exists for the partially ambiguous problems.

My response is a question oft heard in agile circles. I learned it from working in open source projects, corporate giants, startups and contracting. It’s a kōan:

“What features will you be adding in six months?”

The job of software architect is an answer. Is it the right one?

There is value in understanding a problem domain.
But, the stakeholders in a project tautologically have that.
There is value in making the hard decisions.
But, that is why we have team leaders.
There is value in planning your design.
But, software structure inevitably resembles its team’s structure.

… and so on.

The software architect exists because of the cultural need to have someone be responsible for these aspects. But it isn’t possible to satisfy these responsibilities and simultaneously attend to the details that inform future decisions. Architecture astronauts just don’t have the time to be any more grounded!

Instead? Go slow. Let the programmers make the decisions. Feed them knowledge and constraints. Try to develop a consensus among the actual stakeholders. And accept everyone’s input. That quiet intern? They go home and spend all their spare time playing with tools that handle 80% of the job.

I’m not arguing for agile development practices.

I’m arguing for considered diligence. Plan a little. Work a little. Rinse and repeat. Never let yourself slip into the tunnel-vision that comes with long cycles.

Because if your team cannot make responsible architectural decisions, then no one can save your project.