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What is text? This blog post reminds me of the time 10 years ago when I tried to do away with Linux's desktop environment because it seemed overly complex and hard to wrap my head around. I had a lot of trouble running wifi without the desktop environment, and it left me quite bitter. Linux had seemed like a hacker's OS when I first started out. But it was trying so hard to compete with Windows that it was starting to seem like Windows in all the wrong ways, it seemed. That experience contributed to me walking off into the wilderness to build Mu. I've gone back and forth between two tendencies in my life. On the one hand, I used to brag about a minimalist setup living in text mode, only running startx as needed, long after the world had moved to fully graphical desktop environments. On the other hand, I was frustrated early on with the limitation of pure text, creating a little bit of Vimscript to view and edit drawings inside a code fold inside code comments. (I don't remember what format I used for the drawings. Maybe Inkscape? I always liked its format and found it quite easy to hack manually.) And these poles have continued to attract me in turn. I wanted to build Mu with just text mode for a long time, and now in the past couple of years I seem to have tried to minimize my use of terminals, with all their ugly historical and path-dependent hacks, and to do more on a graphical canvas (of a game engine). Trying to look back dispassionately, I seem to operate by: Structured data. Not too much. Mostly text. But then, last year, I had a fascinating and also slightly frustrating conversation with a friend where we realized we had very different associations for the term "text". When I said I wanted to keep something as "just text" I meant "viewable with cat on a vt100." (But with Unicode.) When they said they wanted text they meant, "everything you could do in the tradition of book publishing before the advent of computers." (But maybe not images? Equations and line drawings, certainly. And video is right out.) Another dimension of our disagreement: I was thinking of text in terms of compatibility. What can you do regardless of what device you have on you right now. They were thinking in terms of "what's possible with an extremely low-power reader without regard to compatibility." Also, I imagined authoring text and reading it as happening on the same device. Perhaps they imagined authoring on high-powered devices and reading on low-powered ones. So, 30 years after I started programming, I still don't really understand what I want. I try to clear my mind of the cobwebs created by the hacky, historically path-dependent past. But I'm not there yet.
As I start teaching the kids programming, I’ve been thinking about how to motivate it to them. They do a lot of drawing, so that seemed like a potential hook to show how drawing on the computer may make some things easier (erasing, manipulating, repeating) and other things harder (e.g. drawing well). Demo of a little bare-bones fork of Lua Carousel for a computer with a large screen and a mouse. The large screen is divided up between a code editor and a drawing area. There are a few drawing tools. When you make a stroke the code for it is inserted above the cursor in the code editor. You can also edit the code directly and run it to make changes to the drawing area. There is no support for grabbing points or shapes in the drawing area. All you can do there is emit shapes with coordinates. Everything else you gotta program the old-fashioned way. Download (120KB). Inspired by Ronin and Sketch-n-Sketch.
An experiment involving scrollbars Keeping scrollbars easy to acquire even in large files. Demo of an idea for a scrollbar with a shadow or "penumbra" which makes it easier to acquire to drag around, even as the conventional and smaller central object continues to be visible to give an accurate sense of file size and our position in it. Thanks Artyom Bologov and Mary, though I ended up taking their suggestion in a different direction…
I've been reading The Nature of Order by Christopher Alexander, and it's inspired me to experiment with this representation to communicate the global structure of the source code of the Game of Snake: The whole program is arranged on a 2D surface within a series of nested boxes. You can hit ‘run’, and it extracts the code from the surface and runs it and you get to play a game of Snake. (Only on a computer; even though the app runs on a phone, you can't play this particular game of Snake without arrow keys.) So it can be viewed as a sort of Literate Program, even though the representation I'm tangling from has a richer UI than is typical, a surface you can pan and zoom around with a mouse wheel or touchscreen. (It doesn't support editing yet. This is a purely reading experience for now.) I wasn't trying to build yet another Literate Programming experience, though. What was on my mind was Christopher Alexander. Christopher Alexander (CA) was an architect, and he indirectly inspired Design Patterns in the software world. His magnum opus was The Nature of Order, (NoO) a book I'm not sure I'll ever finish. Not because it's long (it's true that it's 4 volumes, but it has a lot of pictures) but because I often need to put it down to think about the chapter I just read for a day. And then the day turns into a week or a month or a year. The first thing to know about The Nature of Order is it defeats attempts at summarization. With that out of the way, here's a summary of the fragments I've read: People build tools, and then the tools change people. In unanticipated ways, for better and for worse. Tools and buildings (remember, CA is an architect) that contribute to more functional societies have certain objective properties. The properties are hard to state or quantify, but have an objective reality analogous to the fundamental forces in Physics. In his earlier books, CA called this property "the quality without a name." In NoO, he calls this property "wholeness" or "life". The degree of life of an arrangement of matter is visible in its geometric form. Function matters, but CA rejects the cartesian separation between form and function. If something has good consequences, it's going to also look good. This sense of "looking good" is not subjective. People often have greater or lesser sensitivity to it, but we all inherently have the capacity to see that one arrangement has more life than another. The degree of life in an arrangement is a holistic property. You don't compute the life of all the parts and add them up. One poor property can destroy the life of the whole. As a best guess, life stems from approximately 15 properties. These properties establish a field of centers that integrate object with environment, foreground with background, inside with outside, form with function, matter with emptiness. Centers are made of centers, recursively, ad infinitum. Any attempt to create life by assembling homogeneous centers is doomed to fail. Instead, nature and the universe creates wholeness and life by starting with a seed and successively unfolding it, differentiating parts of it into centers, each step of the process intensifying existing centers, bringing new centers into being, and increasing the life of the whole. I'm not sure I buy it to the hilt, but it feels actionable even so. I don't need to believe in the objective reality of the vector field of centers to consider the possibility that it might point us in the direction of better quality as perceived by a lot of people. The image above is a very preliminary step at creating a more wholesome arrangement of the source code for the game of Snake, though CA would likely find it sophomoric. I'm trying to use some well-known ideas in software design. There's a top-down decomposition here. The game of Snake consists of two screens, one where you play the game and one when the player dies. The screen for the game itself (where the player spends the bulk of time) decomposes into 3 concepts: space, snake and food. At this point, however, things get muddy from a classic CS perspective. These concepts are not completely separate. There are places in the program where they coil into each other. For example, I can't entirely explain how a snake grows without reference to food, and I can't explain food without reference to its purpose: growing the snake. In response, I'm duplicating this code in multiple places on the surface, with slightly different emphasis: To me this evokes CA's property of interlock/ambiguity. The centers of space, snake and food don't have clear boundaries here, the boundary is ambiguous and the centers kinda intertwine. Another case of interlock/ambiguity: the screens for game and game over that I mentioned earlier are not completely separate. When the game ends, there's a great human need for some sort of conclusion to be derived from it, often in the form of a score. Did I do well or poorly? Set a personal best? Defeat my friend's score? Here the score takes into account the number of times the snake turned. You can imagine alternatives, but no matter how you calculate the score, it must make reference to the game that was just played. The two screens must share data. Here I am experimenting with indicating this permeable boundary by creating a gap in multiple levels of centers, close to uses of Nsteps, to show that the centers aren't crisply isolated from their surroundings. I spent some time on other touches. Rather than arrange code in a vertical rectangle as we usually do, I chose to break it up horizontally to make the boundaries between definitions more easily apparent. Viewed charitably, this might be seen as an example of what CA calls "alternating repetition", an attempt at a rhythm that resonates with the reader. Interspersing prose with code is another repetition, as are the columns. However, I tried to not make the columns or interspersed prose too monotonously regular. I tried to keep it "rough", and to hand-craft the spacing at each point rather than try to enforce some global policies for spacing and positioning. If you'd like to read a little more about Christopher Alexander and The Nature of Order, here are a couple more summaries: Beautiful Software is perhaps the most comprehensive archive of CA lore. In particular, see this early article about the fifteen properties. Dorian Taylor's obituary. A worked out example of the fifteen properties. Beware, you may get sucked into the full 4-volume opus.
More in technology
The resiliency startup has slashed the amount it spends on AI; down from $4,500 per dev, per month, in August, to $1,600 now.
Nathaniel Christopher has a lovely recap of his time at WordCamp Canada. Very cool that the dashboard widget helped connect him to the local community. Hat tip: Anne.
Managing a house with five kids can be challenging so I like to share what’s working for us when I can. This post is how we currently handle screen time. Screens can be addictive, and it’s easy for anyone (both kids and adults) to fall into unhealthy patterns using them. Historically, I’ve been uncomfortable with screen time restrictions because I don’t want to restrict all the useful, creative, and productive opportunities that screens can provide. We’ve tried zero restrictions in the past (alongside Daily Demos as a creativity incentive), which worked ok, but at some point we wanted bit more structure. Here’s what that structure currently looks like. Device use categories For family members without phones, we have carved out the following categories of time: “Free Time” - Kids are free to do whatever activities they want (bounded only by what we’ve made available for them at the house). Video games, movies, board games, homework, run around outside, whatever. Often, this time trends towards consumption on devices, but it doesn’t have to. We call it “free time” instead of “screen time,” because we want to emphasize that the opportunities are wider than just screens. “Project Time” - Kids are encouraged to do projects, which are usually defined as creative activities of all kinds (with or without screens). This category can be blurry so we’ve often put together lists of approved project time activities, including things like: arts and crafts, coding (including “Scratch create”), playing musical instruments, recording videos, Minecraft (creative mode), the Powder Toy, Dojo Islands, and anything on Let’s Get Creative. Device-based consumption is not allowed. Offline activities are usually considered fine (reading a book, doing a puzzle, etc). “No devices” - No device use allowed. Addendum: Grant Proposals If a kid wants a one-time exception to one of the categories above, we tell them to “submit a grant proposal.” This means they need to get some paper, and write out what they want to do, and why they think it is justified. Example 1: “I want to play Minecraft creative after dinner because I am building a full-scale piano, I want to demo it tonight, and I only have 10 more minutes of work until it’s done.” Example 2: “I want to play Terraria during project time because I am making an tutorial on how to beat Moon Lord, and I need to collect screenshots from the game for my tutorial.” We usually approve grant proposals, as long as they aren’t incomplete. Schedule With these categories defined, we just need to decide how much time to allocate, and when to schedule it. For example, here’s our current “no devices” schedule: "No Devices" times Reason After Dinner Reduce stimulation before bed Sundays Protected for church and family Saturdays, before chores are done Incentivize quick completion of chores, so our Saturday afternoons remain available The categories + schedule constitutes our device policy, in addition to Daily Demos, which we continue to hold on the side. Summary Addictive device consumption can easily crowd out activities that are important long-term but deliver less dopamine short-term. Our device-time categories create a protected space for those activities on a consistent schedule that our kids can expect and make plans around. This is what works for us. Your milage may vary! Thanks for reading this post via RSS! Let me know your thoughts by leaving a comment on the original post or sending me an email.
There are few things worse than a dead AirTag when you need it. That's why we designed the The 4-Year Battery Keychain for AirTag. It replaces the low power CR2032 coin cell with an included Toshiba CR2477 battery for over 4x more capacity. And does so in a minimal form factor. Assembles in seconds. Split key ring + braided cord included. Easy to open with included tool. Perfect on a keychain. And great for backpacks or a purse. Also available on Amazon.
In the corner of the rear Floodgap lab sits a pile of classic game consoles. It used to look like this: Sega Dreamcast all the consoles here only came with NTSC RF output and date from the pre-flat panel TV era. That includes multiple Atari consoles (including the inevitable VCS, here a Darth Vader 2600), several Pong machines — including two Commodore units — with various chipsets, an Intellivision (as the rebadged Tandyvision One, my first) and a Bally Astrocade with lots of upgrades. It seems wrong to use them with a flat panel, and CRTs lag less. Plus, games with a light gun (here the Dreamcast and one of the Pong consoles) often rely on the CRT's rapidly scanning beam to know where they're pointed. So what do you do when the CRT TV goes bad? I should note that this isn't all the old school gaming fun in the house. In the commons next to the pinball machines are an Xbox 360 Slim and a PlayStation 2, and in the home theatre connected to the 3D projector is a PlayStation 3 since it has some stereoscopic titles. These might appear in future articles. But most of the rest are here. I bought this Panasonic Omnivision PV-M2035 from a friend at church in 1999 for $100 [about $200 in 2026 dollars]. He had no use for it, and the top of the plastic shell had been heat-warped by sitting in his car too long, but it worked, still had the remote, and was a suitably cheap TV for my unsuitably cheap studio apartment. I used it for local news and Friends with a set of rabbit ears, VHS movies, and speakers for playing music by connecting a CD player to the single rear input. When I moved to a less cheap 1-bedroom, it came along, and its flat top was flat enough to become a shelf for a DVD player. I got the Dreamcast from Fry's in 2001 after Sega discontinued it and managed to share the composite input between them. That apartment was my crashpad for about a decade before moving to the current orbiting HQ, whereupon I bought a passive-3D flat panel TV and moved the Omnivision to its current location in the back of the house. It shared the RF input between the Inty, and later the Atari 2600, and later still the Astrocade and various Pongs. At any one time there were at least four consoles always connected to it via switches and switchboxes, and I wired up an accessory port for more. plastic was broken and on these TVs that's pretty much the load-bearing part. When it arrived at the mailbox and I unpacked it, I could see the lower half had sandwiched right through the VCR slot, with visible PCB fragments and broken buttons; aside from the tube itself (ironically), the thing was a total loss. The seller nevertheless made good on the refund, to their credit, and I got to schlep it to the recycler. Overall, however, it had occurred to me that there were very few TVs sufficiently contemporary with the M2035 out there, which might be a hint about their general longevity. So, if I was going to be forced to buy a different Panasonic, then it might as well be a more recent one, and it should be one of the "triple play" units (i.e., TV, VCR, DVD) so that I could at least get rid of the external DVD player. Mission: Impossible '88 and '89 DVD sets, where the "in stereo" animation was even burned into the video stream.) not recording and thus impossible to watch many DVDs, for which the Sima CopyMaster was the cheapest solution: it simply blots out that portion of the vertical blank along with the pulses, which also has the side effect of sometimes stripping closed captioning (in the vertical blank as well), though DVDs with proper subtitles are of course unaffected. Later Sima devices could regenerate portions of the vertical blank for better quality, and Macrovision actually sued them over their products in 2005, but later settled. The mixer on the right was purchased literal decades ago at Radio Shack (more specifically a "Video Enhancer Stereo Audio Mixer") that I think we used for a Halloween display exactly once and then forgot about. Here it was used first as a cutoff switch, and second as a way to match the audio volume from the DVD player with the audio volume from the Dreamcast, which was also directly connected to the second rear Y-cable. This TV is mono, so the stereo channels from the audio mixer and the DC get merged using their own Y-connectors (also Radio Shack) before going into the Y-cable to the single line audio input. The video function isn't used here at all; it was just a audio mixer on the shelf I wasn't otherwise using. The DVD player is under the mixer and the CopyMaster, a cheapie Sony special that will only eject discs if it's in the mood or summarily threatened with violence. You already met this system when we adjusted the laser pickup and refurbished its rechargeable battery. you met the Tandyvision One (otherwise identical to the Mattel Intellivision Master Component, and manufactured by them as an OEM) when we installed a composite video modification and a front power-cutoff reset. I later upgraded it with an original Mattel Intellivoice speech synthesizer (Tandy never rebadged these) and a CuttleCart. But you haven't met the Bally on the bottom, officially introduced in 1978 as a game console and simple home computer, sold under various names such as the Bally Professional Arcade seen on early units, later the Bally Computer System badging here, and now collectively referred to under its final incarnation as the Astrocade. These machines were based around a 1.789MHz Z80 (half NTSC colourburst) combined with the same graphics hardware Dave Nutting Associates used for Midway's arcade games Gorf and Wizard of Wor, among others. Unfortunately, much of its theoretical graphics power went unrealized because it only has half the video memory of the arcade units (i.e., 4K) — and that's all the memory it has, so it has to interleave bits in the video memory to store BASIC programs, meaning only game ROMs can take full advantage. Still, that was enough to be solid competition for the likes of the Atari VCS and Fairchild Channel F, and it holds its own well against the slightly later Intellivision. does have is a doozy: the cooling vents are on the underside. These machines are very prone to overheating and can be easily damaged by it, which is why I use two foam struts to keep it off the carpet. The yellow label is for Astrovision, a separate enterprise that had been attempting to develop their own console. The (then) Bally Professional Arcade was selling poorly, though part of this was due to a tardy launch and Bally's weak retail presence, and Bally decided to sell off the consumer products division in 1979. Astrovision, unable to get their unit to market quickly, bought it in 1981 along with a limited license to the Bally name and reintroduced it at Winter CES 1982. Astrovision units are otherwise the same except for the badging and are the most common Astrocades today, though the company became another victim of the 1983 video game crash and went bankrupt shortly afterwards. Simultaneously, an Astrocade derivative merged with Bally's unfinished ZGRASS-100 expansion chassis was reworked into the Datamax UV-1 graphics generator, sold in small numbers until around 1982. the wall warts and power strips, and do a little spot vacuuming with the Roomba. out in spring. Gremlin's Blockade; and a simple calculator and screen paint toy ("Scribbling"). The display is a bit noisier than the Inty/Tandyvision, probably because of the difference in shielding, but still quite good. Videostak Video Game Center, which allegedly could accomodate a VCS, Intellivision or ColecoVision. The front decal is somewhat worn and the woodgrain veneer doesn't match the Vader VCS nearly as well, but it's still a fun-looking setup. Intellivision System Changer which has Atari 2600 hardware in an expansion box for the Intellivision II (useable on the original Inty with modification). It might be fun to explore the reputed irregularities between what is believed to be a VTI clone TIA in the System Changer and the slightly earlier Coleco Expansion Module 1 (and the related Coleco Gemini), and see how they differ in practice. Now for the Pong machines. These attach to the "accessory port" on the input switcher. The current Pong menagerie are mostly MOS 7600-based, MOS' own Pong-on-a-chip: two from Commodore themselves but PAL only using the MOS 7601 (the TV Game 2000K and TV Game 3000H), plus two MOS 7600 (NTSC) systems, a Coleco Telstar Gemini, not to be confused with the Coleco Gemini or Coleco Telstar, and an Allied Leisure Name of the Game II, possibly the earliest use of the chip in NTSC regions. We'll play the Name of the Game II and Telstar Gemini below. These will be consoles for another day, but I also have a boxed Atari Video Pinball, an "honorary" Pong machine though it plays several other games, and a boxed Atari Ultra Pong Doubles, which we had before we got the Tandyvision, but I don't ever recall it working fully and it later failed to power up and got thrown away, so this is a replacement. My least favourite of the Pongs here (I really only picked it up because it was cheap) is a 1977 Magnavox Odyssey 3000. The 3000 is basically an upmarket Odyssey 2000 with proper handheld controllers, but otherwise the same me-too AY-3-8500 Pong-on-a-chip generating the same black-and-white display. Allied Leisure Name of the Game II is a two-player Pong based on the MOS 7600-001. This chip notionally contains three field games (a tennis game, a "goal" game usually billed as either soccer or hockey, and a racquetball game) and a skeet shooter, but the racquetball game can be put into a single player mode by setting it to "four" players and the NotG2's switch triggers this mode in place of the skeet shooter. It was noisy on the other TV and it's noisy here, possibly because it has its own internal RF switchbox, but it plays fine. Coleco Telstar Gemini, an MOS 7600-004 system. This has two "pinball" variants (with flippers and moveable Pong paddles, so it's still a Pong of sorts) and two shooting gallery variants involving shooting a deformed bear sprite. The light gun connector is the same as the Coleco Telstar, so I borrowed the gun from that. sing along with The Offspring. But the output looks crisp through the rear jacks, the sound is proper stereo, and we now have front inputs I can use for something else without rigging a whole bunch of Y-adapters again. Plus, if the Telstar Gemini's gun works, it's all but guaranteed the Dreamcast's does. am likely to play some Video Pinball, and in its box that's easy to move, so that can go on top of the 2600 and the NotG and Telstar Gemini can sit next to it. The old TV is out in the garage and as I have time I'll extract its circuit boards and go over them more thoroughly, since I had a lot of good times with that television and it would be nice to fix. If I do, I'll write it up here, since it's an actual old VCR. Meanwhile, I have some possible projects in mind for the Tandyvision and Astrocade, and maybe some mods to go in the VCS, and you can read about those in future articles too. In the end, with the new TV all set up, the 1980s can live again in my rear office. Or, as my wife likes to point out, they never actually died there either.