bleh
Friday, December 24th, 2004The journal search engine is pretty close to done now, and fairly robust. It's not the fastest thing in the world, but hey, it's my first search engine.
Home with the parents. Light on the booze, heavy on the prayer.
Archive for 2004
insomnia
Tuesday, November 30th, 2004Let us be grateful for cigarettes that burn like miniature fires, and beer that foams and overflows like the sea or love. Let us be grateful for something small and stupid, something so perfect it can only be forgotten.
And I am happy that murder hasn't come to my house, that sorrow and hunger are not on my doorstep. I am happy that my life is ripe with the wonder of common faces, voices, human traffic.
Once in California, I was so hungry I stole oranges off of trees in the middle of the night. It was terrible because I managed to steal every unripe orange in the neighborhood. All these pale green rounds, tough-skinned, packed with alum, so dry and bitter they were barely edible. But I was content because I could eat, and I thought to myself, if this is all I get, if this bitter fruit is all I know of paradise, then I am happy. And look at all I have now. I am sick with happiness, and I want to pack up my voice and mail it off to friends so they can break it apart and devour it like good bread.
technology, programming and the future
Wednesday, October 6th, 2004We may now conclude that the tendency of all recent technology is towards the distribution and allocation of information. Let's refer to this as "last order technology"; I prefer this over "information technology" because much of the technology in question (such as cars or clothing) aren't designed primarily for the distribution of information, though this is its byproduct.
By "last order technology," I mean any technology that can be "programmed." By "programming," I mean the act of creating, modifying or distributing instructions to be executed by a piece of technology. This covers everything from your gorgeous computer to your microprocessor-controlled thermostat. Each of these is in some way tied into the elaborate and subtle process of information distribution, which is last order discourse - the digital discourse, which began long ago and well before computing.
Our last order technology has a different interpersonal structure than other technologies. Consider these two models:
The Cotton Gin
1. The manufacturer. Makes parts and assembles the product.
2. The owner. Acquires and places product for use.
3. The user. Uses product.
The early automobile
1. The manufacturers. Parts construction and distribution.
2. The distributor. Parts assembly and product distribution.
3. The user. Driving, driving, driving.
(sales people and the like deliberately omitted)
Last order technology has an added surprise or two:
1. The manufacturers.
2. The distributor.
3. The programmer.
4. The user.
The cotton gin's relationship with society turned on a distinction between ownership and use; the automobile's relationship involved distribution and use; and last order technology's relationship relies on distribution, programming and use. There is another layer to the last order technology relationship, in which the programmer resides, works, expands and controls.
In last order technology, the first two categories (manufacturer and distributor) are now largely dominated by corporations; we must acknowledge that it is simply the culture of corporations to favor revenue over human well-being (nobody makes money from well-being, unless they're selling snake oil). The position of the user is (largely) passive; we could all, of course, reject Microsoft as a fascist organization with a questionable human rights record, but what would we do for word processing? This leaves the programmer as mediator between the corporate culture of manufacture and distribution and the consumerist culture of the end user.
Allow me to make a crazy, totally outlandish, but deeply inspiring claim: the invention of the programmer, in addition to technological complexity, arose from the need to democratize technology. Programmers exist in part to ensure that lowly end-user jerkweeds like you and me understand what the hell is going on when we turn on a machine. They exist to provide us with intuitive interfaces (Microsoft) and to oppose those interfaces and the corporations that own them when they compromise the intellectual and cultural commons that make programming great (open source programming). Therefore, programmers must be moral beings. We must police the technology for which we program.
Simple rules, hard to follow:
1. Advancement must never outpace programmer guidance. Don't deploy it before somebody understands how to run it, tweak it, mess with it, crash it.
2. The programmer has the right to refuse. We have the right to say, "No, I won't tweak your ICBM."
3. The programmer has a moral right to disclose. This isn't to say that your programmer can dump your clients' credit card numbers onto some web page; rather, if you're designing some super-virus in a computer simulation, the programmer has the right to reveal that information. What's more, we have the inherent right to reveal source code, even when we're under contract, if the situation merits such a thing. If you make me program a planet-busting megadeath device, I have the right to publish that code to the internet because you're a sick and twisted fuck.
4. The programmer has the right to distribute self-made technology to the people. If I make it, it's mine; if I make it, it's yours.
Someone must: (a) understand technology as it arises; and, (b) mediate between the distributors of that technology and the technology's consumers. We're it.
And when I say "we," I mean you and me. You're are smart, and you program every day. Ever punch a number into a telephone? Set a VCR's clock? Tune a radio? You're a programmer, just like me.
And in other news, lying in bed naked is, like, the best thing ever.
generation x
Saturday, July 31st, 2004And one more thing. "Generation X" is a misnomer. Let's define the term as "anyone who spent their teen years in the 1980s," which seems like a fair definition to me, because a whole hell of a lot changed after 1989 (the end of the Cold War, the weird "Gulf War" armchair view of combat, the introduction of the internet, etc). But when we say "Generation X," we're almost certainly not thinking of people who grew up on the Pine Ridge Reservation, or Spanish-speaking children of migrant workers, or kids who grew up in Compton and became sanitation workers. Those people may have had their teen years in the 80s, but the term doesn't apply to them; it applies to middle class, technologically privileged, mostly white kids growing up primarily in suburbia. These kids had access to cable television (those of us who didn't had almost no exposure to MTV), could afford to purchase music, and watched The Cosby Show and saw parallels (however distant) to their own lives. "Generation X" isn't a generation at all; it's a select group of people who had the privilege to subscribe to a set of cultural ideas.
quiz stuff
Tuesday, June 29th, 2004| Your Ultimate Purity Score Is… | ||
| Category | Your Score | Average |
| Self-Lovin' | 46.7% When I think about you - or anyone - I touch myself |
65.1% |
| Shamelessness | 66.7% It takes a couple of drinks |
79.4% |
| Sex Drive | 44.7% I got needs, baby, you gotta unnastan'! |
77.7% |
| Straightness | 5.4% Knows the other body type like a map |
44.9% |
| Gayness | 55.4% Had that experience at camp |
83.6% |
| Fucking Sick | 83.2% Refreshingly normal |
90% |
| You are 51.66% pure Average Score: 72.7% |
||
