More from ntietz.com blog - technically a blog
I've been publishing at least one blog post every week on this blog for about 2.5 years. I kept it up even when I was very sick last year with Lyme disease. It's time for me to take a break and reset. This is the right time, because the world is very difficult for me to move through right now and I'm just burnt out. I need to focus my energy on things that give me energy and right now, that's not writing and that's not tech. I'll come back to this, and it might look a little different. This is my last post for at least a month. It might be longer, if I still need more time, but I won't return before the end of May. I know I need at least that long to heal, and I also need that time to focus on music. I plan to play a set at West Philly Porchfest, so this whole month I'll be prepping that set. If you want to follow along with my music, you can find it on my bandcamp (only one track, but I'll post demos of the others that I prepare for Porchfest as they come together). And if you want to reach out, my inbox is open. Be kind to yourself. Stay well, drink some water. See you in a while.
A few months ago, I was talking with a friend about my ergonomic setup and they asked if being vertical helps it with cooling. I wasn't sure, because it seems like it could help but it was probably such a small difference that it wouldn't matter. So, I did what any self-respecting nerd would do: I procrastinated. The question didn't leave me, though, so after those months passed, I did the second thing any self-respecting nerd would do: benchmarks. The question and the setup What we want to find out is whether or not the position of the laptop would affect its CPU performance. I wanted to measure it in three positions: normal: using it the way any normal person uses their laptop, with the screen and keyboard at something like a 90-degree angle closed: using it like a tech nerd, closed but plugged into a monitor and peripherals vertical: using it like a weird blogger who has sunk a lot of time into her ergonomic setup and wants to justify it even further My hypothesis was that using it closed would slightly reduce CPU performance, and that using it normal or vertical would be roughly the same. For this experiment, I'm using my personal laptop. It's one of the early Framework laptops (2nd batch of shipments) which is about four years old. It has an 11th gen Intel CPU in it, the i7-1165G7. My laptop will be sitting on a laptop riser for the closed and normal positions, and it will be sitting in my ergonomic tray for the vertical one. For all three, it will be connected to the same set of peripherals through a single USB-C cable, and the internal display is disabled for all three. Running the tests I'm not too interested in the initial boost clock. I'm more interested in what clock speeds we can sustain. What happens under a sustained, heavy load, when we hit a saturation point and can't shed any more heat? To test that, I'm doing a test using heavy CPU load. The load is generated by stress-ng, which also reports some statistics. Most notably, it reports CPU temperatures and clock speeds during the tests. Here's the script I wrote to make these consistent. To skip the boost clock period, I warm it up first with a 3-minute load Then I do a 5-minute load and measure the CPU clock frequency and CPU temps every second along the way. #!/bin/bash # load the CPU for 3 minutes to warm it up sudo stress-ng --matrix $2 -t 3m --tz --raplstat 1 --thermalstat 1 -Y warmup-$1.yaml --log-file warmup-$1.log --timestamp --ignite-cpu # run for 5 minutes to gather our averages sudo stress-ng --matrix $2 -t 5m --tz --raplstat 1 --thermalstat 1 -Y cputhermal-$1.yaml --log-file cputhermal-$1.log --timestamp --ignite-cpu We need sudo since we're using an option (--ignite-cpu) which needs root privileges[1] and attempts to make the CPU run harder/hotter. Then we specify the stressor we're using with --matrix $2, which does some matrix calculations over a number of cores we specify. The remaining options are about reporting and logging. I let the computer cool for a minute or two between each test, but not for a scientific reason. Just because I was doing other things. Since my goal was to saturate the temperatures, and they got stable within each warmup period, cooldowh time wasn't necessary—we'd warm it back up anyway. So, I ran this with the three positions, and with two core count options: 8, one per thread on my CPU; and 4, one per physical core on my CPU. The results Once it was done, I analyzed the results. I took the average clock speed across the 5 minute test for each of the configurations. My hypothesis was partially right and partially wrong. When doing 8 threads, each position had different results: Our baseline normal open position had an average clock speed of 3.44 GHz and an average CPU temp of 91.75 F. With the laptop closed, the average clock speed was 3.37 GHz and the average CPU temp was 91.75 F. With the laptop open vertical, the average clock speed was 3.48 GHz and the average CPU temp was 88.75 F. With 4 threads, the results were: For the baseline normal open position, the average clock speed was 3.80 GHz with average CPU temps of 91.11 F. With the laptop closed, the average clock speed was 3.64 GHz with average CPU temps of 90.70 F. With the laptop open vertical, the average clock speed was 3.80 GHz with average CPU temps of 86.07 F. So, I was wrong in one big aspect: it does make a clearly measurable difference. Having it open and vertical reduces temps by 3 degrees in one test and 5 in the other, and it had a higher clock speed (by 0.05 GHz, which isn't a lot but isn't nothing). We can infer that, since clock speeds improved in the heavier load test but not in the lighter load test, that the lighter load isn't hitting our thermal limits—and when we do, the extra cooling from the vertical position really helps. One thing is clear: in all cases, the CPU ran slower when the laptop was closed. It's sorta weird that the CPU temps went down when closed in the second test. I wonder if that's from being able to cool down more when it throttled down a lot, or if there was a hotspot that throttled the CPU but which wasn't reflected in the temp data, maybe a different sensor. I'm not sure if having my laptop vertical like I do will ever make a perceptible performance difference. At any rate, that's not why I do it. But it does have lower temps, and that should let my fans run less often and be quieter when they do. That's a win in my book. It also means that when I run CPU-intensive things (say hi to every single Rust compile!) I should not close the laptop. And hey, if I decide to work from my armchair using my ergonomic tray, I can argue it's for efficiency: boss, I just gotta eke out those extra clock cycles. I'm not sure that this made any difference on my system. I didn't want to rerun the whole set without it, though, and it doesn't invalidate the tests if it simply wasn't doing anything. ↩
The scene: you're on call for a web app, and your pager goes off. Denial. No no no, the app can't be down. There's no way it's down. Why would it be down? It isn't down. Sure, my pager went off. And sure, the metrics all say it's down and the customer is complaining that it's down. But it isn't, I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding. Anger. Okay so it's fucking down. Why did this have to happen on my on-call shift? This is so unfair. I had my dinner ready to eat, and *boom* I'm paged. It's the PM's fault for not prioritizing my tech debt, ugh. Bargaining. Okay okay okay. Maybe... I can trade my on-call shift with Sam. They really know this service, so they could take it on. Or maybe I can eat my dinner while we respond to this... Depression. This is bad, this is so bad. Our app is down, and the customer knows. We're totally screwed here, why even bother putting it back up? They're all going to be mad, leave, the company is dead... There's not even any point. Acceptance. You know, it's going to be okay. This happens to everyone, apps go down. We'll get it back up, and everything will be fine.
After I put up a post about a Python gotcha, someone remarked that "there are very few interpreted languages in common usage," and that they "wish Python was more widely recognized as a compiled language." This got me thinking: what is the distinction between a compiled or interpreted language? I was pretty sure that I do think Python is interpreted[1], but how would I draw that distinction cleanly? On the surface level, it seems like the distinction between compiled and interpreted languages is obvious: compiled languages have a compiler, and interpreted languages have an interpreter. We typically call Java a compiled language and Python an interpreted language. But on the inside, Java has an interpreter and Python has a compiler. What's going on? What's an interpreter? What's a compiler? A compiler takes code written in one programming language and turns it into a runnable thing. It's common for this to be machine code in an executable program, but it can also by bytecode for VM or assembly language. On the other hand, an interpreter directly takes a program and runs it. It doesn't require any pre-compilation to do so, and can apply a variety of techniques to achieve this (even a compiler). That's where the distinction really lies: what you end up running. An interpeter runs your program, while a compiler produces something that can run later[2] (or right now, if it's in an interpreter). Compiled or interpreted languages A compiled language is one that uses a compiler, and an interpreted language uses an interpreter. Except... many languages[3] use both. Let's look at Java. It has a compiler, which you feed Java source code into and you get out an artifact that you can't run directly. No, you have to feed that into the Java virtual machine, which then interprets the bytecode and runs it. So the entire Java stack seems to have both a compiler and an interpreter. But it's the usage, that you have to pre-compile it, that makes it a compiled language. And similarly is Python[4]. It has an interpreter, which you feed Python source code into and it runs the program. But on the inside, it has a compiler. That compiler takes the source code, turns it into Python bytecode, and then feeds that into the Python virtual machine. So, just like Java, it goes from code to bytecode (which is even written to the disk, usually) and bytecode to VM, which then runs it. And here again we see the usage, where you don't pre-compile anything, you just run it. That's the difference. And that's why Python is an interpreted language with a compiler! And... so what? Ultimately, why does it matter? If I can do cargo run and get my Rust program running the same as if I did python main.py, don't they feel the same? On the surface level, they do, and that's because it's a really nice interface so we've adopted it for many interactions! But underneath it, you see the differences peeping out from the compiled or interpreted nature. When you run a Python program, it will run until it encounters an error, even if there's malformed syntax! As long as it doesn't need to load that malformed syntax, you're able to start running. But if you cargo run a Rust program, it won't run at all if it encounters an error in the compilation step! It has to run the entire compilation process before the program will start at all. The difference in approaches runs pretty deep into the feel of an entire toolchain. That's where it matters, because it is one of the fundamental choices that everything else is built around. The words here are ultimately arbitrary. But they tell us a lot about the language and tools we're using. * * * Thank you to Adam for feedback on a draft of this post. It is worth occasionally challenging your own beliefs and assumptions! It's how you grow, and how you figure out when you are actually wrong. ↩ This feels like it rhymes with async functions in Python. Invoking a regular function runs it immediately, while invoking an async function creates something which can run later. ↩ And it doesn't even apply at the language level, because you could write an interpreter for C++ or a compiler for Hurl, not that you'd want to, but we're going to gloss over that distinction here and just keep calling them "compiled/interpreted languages." It's how we talk about it already, and it's not that confusing. ↩ Here, I'm talking about the standard CPython implementation. Others will differ in their details. ↩
I got a new-to-me keyboard recently. It was my brother's in school, but he doesn't use it anymore, so I set it up in my office. It's got 61 keys and you can hook up a pedal to it, too! But when you hook it up to the computer, you can't type with it. I mean, that's expected—it makes piano and synth noises mostly. But what if you could type with it? Wouldn't that be grand? (Ha, grand, like a pian—you know, nevermind.) How do you type on a keyboard? Or more generally, how do you type with any MIDI device? I also have a couple of wind synths and a MIDI drum pad, can I type with those? The first and most obvious idea is to map each key to a letter. The lowest key on the keyboard could be 'a'[1], etc. This kind of works for a piano-style keyboard. If you have a full size keyboard, you get 88 keys. You can use 52 of those for the letters you need for English[2] and 10 for digits. Then you have 26 left. That's more than enough for a few punctuation marks and other niceties. It only kind of works, though, because it sounds pretty terrible. You end up making melodies that don't make a lot of sense, and do not stay confined to a given key signature. Plus, this assumes you have an 88 key keyboard. I have a 61 key keyboard, so I can't even type every letter and digit! And if I want to write some messages using my other instruments, I'll need something that works on those as well. Although, only being able to type 5 letters using my drums would be pretty funny... Melodic typing The typing scheme I settled on was melodic typing. When you write your message, it should correspond to a similarly beautiful[3] melody. Or, conversely, when you play a beautiful melody it turns into some text on your computer. The way we do this is we keep track of sequences of notes. We start with our key, which will be the key of C, the Times New Roman of key signatures. Then, each note in the scale is has its scale degree: C is 1, D is 2, etc. until B is 7. We want to use scale degree, so that if we jam out with others, we can switch to the appropriate key and type in harmony with them. Obviously. We assign different computer keys to different sequences of these scale degrees. The first question is, how long should our sequences be? If we have 1-note sequences, then we can type 7 keys. Great for some very specific messages, but not for general purpose typing. 2-note sequences would give us 49 keys, and 3-note sequences give us 343. So 3 notes is probably enough, since it's way more than a standard keyboard. But could we get away with the 49? (Yes.) This is where it becomes clear why full Unicode support would be a challenge. Unicode has 155,063 characters (according to wikipedia). To represent the full space, we'd need at least 7 notes, since 7^7 is 823,543. You could also use a highly variable encoding, which would make some letters easy to type and others very long-winded. It could be done, but then the key mapping would be even harder to learn... My first implementation used 3-note sequences, but the resulting tunes were... uninspiring, to say the least. There was a lot of repetition of particular notes, which wasn't my vibe. So I went back to 2-note sequences, with a pared down set of keys. Instead of trying to represent both lowercase and uppercase letters, we can just do what keyboards do, and represent them using a shift key[4]. My final mapping includes the English alphabet, numerals 0 to 9, comma, period, exclamation marks, spaces, newlines, shift, backspace, and caps lock—I mean, obviously we're going to allow constant shouting. This lets us type just about any message we'd want with just our instrument. And we only used 44 of the available sequences, so we could add even more keys. Maybe one of those would shift us into a 3-note sequence. The key mapping The note mapping I ended up with is available in a text file in the repo. This mapping lets you type anything you'd like, as long as it's English and doesn't use too complicated of punctuation. No contractions for you, and—to my chagrin—no em dashes either. The key is pretty helpful, but even better is a dynamic key. When I was trying this for the first time, I had two major problems: I didn't know which notes would give me the letter I wanted I didn't know what I had entered so far (sometimes you miss a note!) But we can solve this with code! The UI will show you which notes are entered so far (which is only ever 1 note, for the current typing scheme), as well as which notes to play to reach certain keys. It's basically a peek into the state machine behind what you're typing! An example: "hello world" Let's see this in action. As all programmers, we're obligated by law to start with "hello, world." We can use our handy-dandy cheat sheet above to figure out how to do this. "Hello, world!" uses a pesky capital letter, so we start with a shift. C C Then an 'h'. D F Then we continue on for the rest of it and get: D C E C E C E F A A B C F G E F E B E C C B A B Okay, of course this will catch on! Here's my honest first take of dooting out those notes from the translation above. Hello, world! I... am a bit disappointed, because it would have been much better comedy if it came out like "HelLoo wrolb," but them's the breaks. Moving on, though, let's make this something musical. We can take the notes and put a basic rhythm on them. Something like this, with a little swing to it. By the magic of MIDI and computers, we can hear what this sounds like. maddie marie · Hello, world! (melody) Okay, not bad. But it's missing something... Maybe a drum groove... maddie marie · Hello, world! (w/ drums) Oh yeah, there we go. Just in time to be the song of the summer, too. And if you play the melody, it enters "Hello, world!" Now we can compose music by typing! We have found a way to annoy our office mates even more than with mechanical keyboards[5]! Other rejected neglected typing schemes As with all great scientific advancements, other great ideas were passed by in the process. Here are a few of those great ideas we tried but had to abandon, since we were not enough to handle their greatness. A chorded keyboard. This would function by having the left hand control layers of the keyboard by playing a chord, and then the right hand would press keys within that layer. I think this one is a good idea! I didn't implement it because I don't play piano very well. I'm primarily a woodwind player, and I wanted to be able to use my wind synth for this. Shift via volume! There's something very cathartic about playing loudly to type capital letters and playing quietly to print lowercase letters. But... it was pretty difficult to get working for all instruments. Wind synths don't have uniform velocity (the MIDI term for how hard the key was pressed, or how strong breath was on a wind instrument), and if you average it then you don't press the key until after it's over, which is an odd typing experience. Imagine your keyboard only entering a character when you release it! So, this one is tenable, but more for keyboards than for wind synths. It complicated the code quite a bit so I tossed it, but it should come back someday. Each key is a key. You have 88 keys on a keyboard, which definitely would cover the same space as our chosen scheme. It doesn't end up sounding very good, though... Rhythmic typing. This is the one I'm perhaps most likely to implement in the future, because as we saw above, drums really add something. I have a drum multipad, which has four zones on it and two pedals attached (kick drum and hi-hat pedal). That could definitely be used to type, too! I am not sure the exact way it would work, but it might be good to quantize the notes (eighths or quarters) and then interpret the combination of feet/pads as different letters. I might take a swing at this one sometime. Please do try this at home I've written previously about how I was writing the GUI for this. The GUI is now available for you to use for all your typing needs! Except the ones that need, you know, punctuation or anything outside of the English alphabet. You can try it out by getting it from the sourcehut repo (https://git.sr.ht/~ntietz/midi-keys). It's a Rust program, so you run it with cargo run. The program is free-as-in-mattress: it's probably full of bugs, but it's yours if you want it. Well, you have to comply with the license: either AGPL or the Gay Agenda License (be gay, do crime[6]). If you try it out, let me know how it goes! Let me know what your favorite pieces of music spell when you play them on your instrument. Coincidentally, this is the letter 'a' and the note is A! We don't remain so fortunate; the letter 'b' is the note A#. ↩ I'm sorry this is English only! But, you could to the equivalent thing for most other languages. Full Unicode support would be tricky, I'll show you why later in the post. ↩ My messages do not come out as beautiful melodies. Oops. Perhaps they're not beautiful messages. ↩ This is where it would be fun to use an organ and have the lower keyboard be lowercase and the upper keyboard be uppercase. ↩ I promise you, I will do this if you ever make me go back to working in an open office. ↩ For any feds reading this: it's a joke, I'm not advocating people actually commit crimes. What kind of lady do you think I am? Obviously I'd never think that civil disobedience is something we should do, disobeying unjust laws, nooooo... I'm also never sarcastic. ↩
More in programming
I loved this talk from Alexander Petros titled “Building the Hundred-Year Web Service”. What follows is summation of my note-taking from watching the talk on YouTube. Is what you’re building for future generations: Useful for them? Maintainable by them? Adaptable by them? Actually, forget about future generations. Is what you’re building for future you 6 months or 6 years from now aligning with those goals? While we’re building codebases which may not be useful, maintainable, or adaptable by someone two years from now, the Romans built a bridge thousands of years ago that is still being used today. It should be impossible to imagine building something in Roman times that’s still useful today. But if you look at [Trajan’s Bridge in Portugal, which is still used today] you can see there’s a little car on its and a couple pedestrians. They couldn’t have anticipated the automobile, but nevertheless it is being used for that today. That’s a conundrum. How do you build for something you can’t anticipate? You have to think resiliently. Ask yourself: What’s true today, that was true for a software engineer in 1991? One simple answer is: Sharing and accessing information with a uniform resource identifier. That was true 30+ years ago, I would venture to bet it will be true in another 30 years — and more! There [isn’t] a lot of source code that can run unmodified in software that is 30 years apart. And yet, the first web site ever made can do precisely that. The source code of the very first web page — which was written for a line mode browser — still runs today on a touchscreen smartphone, which is not a device that Tim Berners-less could have anticipated. Alexander goes on to point out how interaction with web pages has changed over time: In the original line mode browser, links couldn’t be represented as blue underlined text. They were represented more like footnotes on screen where you’d see something like this[1] and then this[2]. If you wanted to follow that link, there was no GUI to point and click. Instead, you would hit that number on your keyboard. In desktop browsers and GUI interfaces, we got blue underlines to represent something you could point and click on to follow a link On touchscreen devices, we got “tap” with your finger to follow a link. While these methods for interaction have changed over the years, the underlying medium remains unchanged: information via uniform resource identifiers. The core representation of a hypertext document is adaptable to things that were not at all anticipated in 1991. The durability guarantees of the web are absolutely astounding if you take a moment to think about it. In you’re sprinting you might beat the browser, but it’s running a marathon and you’ll never beat it in the long run. If your page is fast enough, [refreshes] won’t even repaint the page. The experience of refreshing a page, or clicking on a “hard link” is identical to the experience of partially updating the page. That is something that quietly happened in the last ten years with no fanfare. All the people who wrote basic HTML got a huge performance upgrade in their browser. And everybody who tried to beat the browser now has to reckon with all the JavaScript they wrote to emulate these basic features. Email · Mastodon · Bluesky
You're walking down the street and need to pass someone going the opposite way. You take a step left, but they're thinking the same thing and take a step to their right, aka your left. You're still blocking each other. Then you take a step to the right, and they take a step to their left, and you're back to where you started. I've heard this called "walkwarding" Let's model this in TLA+. TLA+ is a formal methods tool for finding bugs in complex software designs, most often involving concurrency. Two people trying to get past each other just also happens to be a concurrent system. A gentler introduction to TLA+'s capabilities is here, an in-depth guide teaching the language is here. The spec ---- MODULE walkward ---- EXTENDS Integers VARIABLES pos vars == <<pos>> Double equals defines a new operator, single equals is an equality check. <<pos>> is a sequence, aka array. you == "you" me == "me" People == {you, me} MaxPlace == 4 left == 0 right == 1 I've gotten into the habit of assigning string "symbols" to operators so that the compiler complains if I misspelled something. left and right are numbers so we can shift position with right - pos. direction == [you |-> 1, me |-> -1] goal == [you |-> MaxPlace, me |-> 1] Init == \* left-right, forward-backward pos = [you |-> [lr |-> left, fb |-> 1], me |-> [lr |-> left, fb |-> MaxPlace]] direction, goal, and pos are "records", or hash tables with string keys. I can get my left-right position with pos.me.lr or pos["me"]["lr"] (or pos[me].lr, as me == "me"). Juke(person) == pos' = [pos EXCEPT ![person].lr = right - @] TLA+ breaks the world into a sequence of steps. In each step, pos is the value of pos in the current step and pos' is the value in the next step. The main outcome of this semantics is that we "assign" a new value to pos by declaring pos' equal to something. But the semantics also open up lots of cool tricks, like swapping two values with x' = y /\ y' = x. TLA+ is a little weird about updating functions. To set f[x] = 3, you gotta write f' = [f EXCEPT ![x] = 3]. To make things a little easier, the rhs of a function update can contain @ for the old value. ![me].lr = right - @ is the same as right - pos[me].lr, so it swaps left and right. ("Juke" comes from here) Move(person) == LET new_pos == [pos[person] EXCEPT !.fb = @ + direction[person]] IN /\ pos[person].fb # goal[person] /\ \A p \in People: pos[p] # new_pos /\ pos' = [pos EXCEPT ![person] = new_pos] The EXCEPT syntax can be used in regular definitions, too. This lets someone move one step in their goal direction unless they are at the goal or someone is already in that space. /\ means "and". Next == \E p \in People: \/ Move(p) \/ Juke(p) I really like how TLA+ represents concurrency: "In each step, there is a person who either moves or jukes." It can take a few uses to really wrap your head around but it can express extraordinarily complicated distributed systems. Spec == Init /\ [][Next]_vars Liveness == <>(pos[me].fb = goal[me]) ==== Spec is our specification: we start at Init and take a Next step every step. Liveness is the generic term for "something good is guaranteed to happen", see here for more. <> means "eventually", so Liveness means "eventually my forward-backward position will be my goal". I could extend it to "both of us eventually reach out goal" but I think this is good enough for a demo. Checking the spec Four years ago, everybody in TLA+ used the toolbox. Now the community has collectively shifted over to using the VSCode extension.1 VSCode requires we write a configuration file, which I will call walkward.cfg. SPECIFICATION Spec PROPERTY Liveness I then check the model with the VSCode command TLA+: Check model with TLC. Unsurprisingly, it finds an error: The reason it fails is "stuttering": I can get one step away from my goal and then just stop moving forever. We say the spec is unfair: it does not guarantee that if progress is always possible, progress will be made. If I want the spec to always make progress, I have to make some of the steps weakly fair. + Fairness == WF_vars(Next) - Spec == Init /\ [][Next]_vars + Spec == Init /\ [][Next]_vars /\ Fairness Now the spec is weakly fair, so someone will always do something. New error: \* First six steps cut 7: <Move("me")> pos = [you |-> [lr |-> 0, fb |-> 4], me |-> [lr |-> 1, fb |-> 2]] 8: <Juke("me")> pos = [you |-> [lr |-> 0, fb |-> 4], me |-> [lr |-> 0, fb |-> 2]] 9: <Juke("me")> (back to state 7) In this failure, I've successfully gotten past you, and then spend the rest of my life endlessly juking back and forth. The Next step keeps happening, so weak fairness is satisfied. What I actually want is for both my Move and my Juke to both be weakly fair independently of each other. - Fairness == WF_vars(Next) + Fairness == WF_vars(Move(me)) /\ WF_vars(Juke(me)) If my liveness property also specified that you reached your goal, I could instead write \A p \in People: WF_vars(Move(p)) etc. I could also swap the \A with a \E to mean at least one of us is guaranteed to have fair actions, but not necessarily both of us. New error: 3: <Move("me")> pos = [you |-> [lr |-> 0, fb |-> 2], me |-> [lr |-> 0, fb |-> 3]] 4: <Juke("you")> pos = [you |-> [lr |-> 1, fb |-> 2], me |-> [lr |-> 0, fb |-> 3]] 5: <Juke("me")> pos = [you |-> [lr |-> 1, fb |-> 2], me |-> [lr |-> 1, fb |-> 3]] 6: <Juke("me")> pos = [you |-> [lr |-> 1, fb |-> 2], me |-> [lr |-> 0, fb |-> 3]] 7: <Juke("you")> (back to state 3) Now we're getting somewhere! This is the original walkwarding situation we wanted to capture. We're in each others way, then you juke, but before either of us can move you juke, then we both juke back. We can repeat this forever, trapped in a social hell. Wait, but doesn't WF(Move(me)) guarantee I will eventually move? Yes, but only if a move is permanently available. In this case, it's not permanently available, because every couple of steps it's made temporarily unavailable. How do I fix this? I can't add a rule saying that we only juke if we're blocked, because the whole point of walkwarding is that we're not coordinated. In the real world, walkwarding can go on for agonizing seconds. What I can do instead is say that Liveness holds as long as Move is strongly fair. Unlike weak fairness, strong fairness guarantees something happens if it keeps becoming possible, even with interruptions. Liveness == + SF_vars(Move(me)) => <>(pos[me].fb = goal[me]) This makes the spec pass. Even if we weave back and forth for five minutes, as long as we eventually pass each other, I will reach my goal. Note we could also by making Move in Fairness strongly fair, which is preferable if we have a lot of different liveness properties to check. A small exercise for the reader There is a presumed invariant that is violated. Identify what it is, write it as a property in TLA+, and show the spec violates it. Then fix it. Answer (in rot13): Gur vainevnag vf "ab gjb crbcyr ner va gur rknpg fnzr ybpngvba". Zbir thnenagrrf guvf ohg Whxr qbrf abg. More TLA+ Exercises I've started work on an exercises repo. There's only a handful of specific problems now but I'm planning on adding more over the summer. learntla is still on the toolbox, but I'm hoping to get it all moved over this summer. ↩
About half a year ago I encountered a paper bombastically titled “the ultimate conditional syntax”. It has the attractive goal of unifying pattern match with boolean if tests, and its solution is in some ways very nice. But it seems over-complicated to me, especially for something that’s a basic work-horse of programming. I couldn’t immediately see how to cut it down to manageable proportions, but recently I had an idea. I’ll outline it under the “penultimate conditionals” heading below, after reviewing the UCS and explaining my motivation. what the UCS? whence UCS out of scope penultimate conditionals dangling syntax examples antepenultimate breath what the UCS? The ultimate conditional syntax does several things which are somewhat intertwined and support each other. An “expression is pattern” operator allows you to do pattern matching inside boolean expressions. Like “match” but unlike most other expressions, “is” binds variables whose scope is the rest of the boolean expression that might be evaluated when the “is” is true, and the consequent “then” clause. You can “split” tests to avoid repeating parts that are the same in successive branches. For example, if num < 0 then -1 else if num > 0 then +1 else 0 can be written if num < 0 then -1 > 0 then +1 else 0 The example shows a split before an operator, where the left hand operand is the same and the rest of the expression varies. You can split after the operator when the operator is the same, which is common for “is” pattern match clauses. Indentation-based syntax (an offside rule) reduces the amount of punctuation that splits would otherwise need. An explicit version of the example above is if { x { { < { 0 then −1 } }; { > { 0 then +1 } }; else 0 } } (This example is written in the paper on one line. I’ve split it for narrow screens, which exposes what I think is a mistake in the nesting.) You can also intersperse let bindings between splits. I doubt the value of this feature, since “is” can also bind values, but interspersed let does have its uses. The paper has an example using let to avoid rightward drift: if let tp1_n = normalize(tp1) tp1_n is Bot then Bot let tp2_n = normalize(tp2) tp2_n is Bot then Bot let m = merge(tp1_n, tp2_n) m is Some(tp) then tp m is None then glb(tp1_n, tp2_n) It’s probably better to use early return to avoid rightward drift. The desugaring uses let bindings when lowering the UCS to simpler constructions. whence UCS Pattern matching in the tradition of functional programming languages supports nested patterns that are compiled in a way that eliminates redundant tests. For example, this example checks that e1 is Some(_) once, not twice as written. if e1 is Some(Left(lv)) then e2 Some(Right(rv)) then e3 None then e4 Being cheeky, I’d say UCS introduces more causes of redundant checks, then goes to great effort to to eliminate redundant checks again. Splits reduce redundant code at the source level; the bulk of the paper is about eliminating redundant checks in the lowering from source to core language. I think the primary cause of this extra complexity is treating the is operator as a two-way test rather than a multi-way match. Splits are introduced as a more general (more complicated) way to build multi-way conditions out of two-way tests. There’s a secondary cause: the tradition of expression-oriented functional languages doesn’t like early returns. A nice pattern in imperative code is to write a function as a series of preliminary calculations and guards with early returns that set things up for the main work of the function. Rust’s ? operator and let-else statement support this pattern directly. UCS addresses the same pattern by wedging calculate-check sequences into if statements, as in the normalize example above. out of scope I suspect UCS’s indentation-based syntax will make programmers more likely to make mistakes, and make compilers have more trouble producing nice error messages. (YAML has put me off syntax that doesn’t have enough redundancy to support good error recovery.) So I wondered if there’s a way to have something like an “is pattern” operator in a Rust-like language, without an offside rule, and without the excess of punctuation in the UCS desugaring. But I couldn’t work out how to make the scope of variable bindings in patterns cover all the code that might need to use them. The scope needs to extend into the consequent then clause, but also into any follow-up tests – and those tests can branch so the scope might need to reach into multiple then clauses. The problem was the way I was still thinking of the then and else clauses as part of the outer if. That implied the expression has to be closed off before the then, which troublesomely closes off the scope of any is-bound variables. The solution – part of it, at least – is actually in the paper, where then and else are nested inside the conditional expression. penultimate conditionals There are two ingredients: The then and else clauses become operators that cause early return from a conditional expression. They can be lowered to a vaguely Rust syntax with the following desugaring rules. The 'if label denotes the closest-enclosing if; you can’t use then or else inside the expr of a then or else unless there’s another intervening if. then expr ⟼ && break 'if expr else expr ⟼ || break 'if expr else expr ⟼ || _ && break 'if expr There are two desugarings for else depending on whether it appears in an expression or a pattern. If you prefer a less wordy syntax, you might spell then as => (like match in Rust) and else as || =>. (For symmetry we might allow && => for then as well.) An is operator for multi-way pattern-matching that binds variables whose scope covers the consequent part of the expression. The basic form is like the UCS, scrutinee is pattern which matches the scrutinee against the pattern returning a boolean result. For example, foo is None Guarded patterns are like, scrutinee is pattern && consequent where the scope of the variables bound by the pattern covers the consequent. The consequent might be a simple boolean guard, for example, foo is Some(n) && n < 0 or inside an if expression it might end with a then clause, if foo is Some(n) && n < 0 => -1 // ... Simple multi-way patterns are like, scrutinee is { pattern || pattern || … } If there is a consequent then the patterns must all bind the same set of variables (if any) with the same types. More typically, a multi-way match will have consequent clauses, like scrutinee is { pattern && consequent || pattern && consequent || => otherwise } When a consequent is false, we go on to try other alternatives of the match, like we would when the first operand of boolean || is false. To help with layout, you can include a redundant || before the first alternative. For example, if foo is { || Some(n) && n < 0 => -1 || Some(n) && n > 0 => +1 || Some(n) => 0 || None => 0 } Alternatively, if foo is { Some(n) && ( n < 0 => -1 || n > 0 => +1 || => 0 ) || None => 0 } (They should compile the same way.) The evaluation model is like familiar shortcutting && and || and the syntax is supposed to reinforce that intuition. The UCS paper spends a lot of time discussing backtracking and how to eliminate it, but penultimate conditionals evaluate straightforwardly from left to right. The paper briefly mentions as patterns, like Some(Pair(x, y) as p) which in Rust would be written Some(p @ Pair(x, y)) The is operator doesn’t need a separate syntax for this feature: Some(p is Pair(x, y)) For large examples, the penultimate conditional syntax is about as noisy as Rust’s match, but it scales down nicely to smaller matches. However, there are differences in how consequences and alternatives are punctuated which need a bit more discussion. dangling syntax The precedence and associativity of the is operator is tricky: it has two kinds of dangling-else problem. The first kind occurs with a surrounding boolean expression. For example, when b = false, what is the value of this? b is true || false It could bracket to the left, yielding false: (b is true) || false Or to the right, yielding true: b is { true || false } This could be disambiguated by using different spellings for boolean or and pattern alternatives. But that doesn’t help for the second kind which occurs with an inner match. foo is Some(_) && bar is Some(_) || None Does that check foo is Some(_) with an always-true look at bar ( foo is Some(_) ) && bar is { Some(_) || None } Or does it check bar is Some(_) and waste time with foo? foo is { Some(_) && ( bar is Some(_) ) || None } I have chosen to resolve the ambiguity by requiring curly braces {} around groups of alternative patterns. This allows me to use the same spelling || for all kinds of alternation. (Compare Rust, which uses || for boolean expressions, | in a pattern, and , between the arms of a match.) Curlies around multi-way matches can be nested, so the example in the previous section can also be written, if foo is { || Some(n) && n < 0 => -1 || Some(n) && n > 0 => +1 || { Some(0) || None } => 0 } The is operator binds tigher than && on its left, but looser than && on its right (so that a chain of && is gathered into a consequent) and tigher than || on its right so that outer || alternatives don’t need extra brackets. examples I’m going to finish these notes by going through the ultimate conditional syntax paper to translate most of its examples into the penultimate syntax, to give it some exercise. Here we use is to name a value n, as a replacement for the |> abs pipe operator, and we use range patterns instead of split relational operators: if foo(args) is { || 0 => "null" || n && abs(n) is { || 101.. => "large" || ..10 => "small" || => "medium" ) } In both the previous example and the next one, we have some extra brackets where UCS relies purely on an offside rule. if x is { || Right(None) => defaultValue || Right(Some(cached)) => f(cached) || Left(input) && compute(input) is { || None => defaultValue || Some(result) => f(result) } } This one is almost identical to UCS apart from the spellings of and, then, else. if name.startsWith("_") && name.tailOption is Some(namePostfix) && namePostfix.toIntOption is Some(index) && 0 <= index && index < arity && => Right([index, name]) || => Left("invalid identifier: " + name) Here are some nested multi-way matches with overlapping patterns and bound values: if e is { // ... || Lit(value) && Map.find_opt(value) is Some(result) => Some(result) // ... || { Lit(value) || Add(Lit(0), value) || Add(value, Lit(0)) } => { print_int(value); Some(value) } // ... } The next few examples show UCS splits without the is operator. In my syntax I need to press a few more buttons but I think that’s OK. if x == 0 => "zero" || x == 1 => "unit" || => "?" if x == 0 => "null" || x > 0 => "positive" || => "negative" if predicate(0, 1) => "A" || predicate(2, 3) => "B" || => "C" The first two can be written with is instead, but it’s not briefer: if x is { || 0 => "zero" || 1 => "unit" || => "?" } if x is { || 0 => "null" || 1.. => "positive" || => "negative" } There’s little need for a split-anything feature when we have multi-way matches. if foo(u, v, w) is { || Some(x) && x is { || Left(_) => "left-defined" || Right(_) => "right-defined" } || None => "undefined" } A more complete function: fn zip_with(f, xs, ys) { if [xs, ys] is { || [x :: xs, y :: ys] && zip_with(f, xs, ys) is Some(tail) => Some(f(x, y) :: tail) || [Nil, Nil] => Some(Nil) || => None } } Another fragment of the expression evaluator: if e is { // ... || Var(name) && Map.find_opt(env, name) is { || Some(Right(value)) => Some(value) || Some(Left(thunk)) => Some(thunk()) } || App(lhs, rhs) => // ... // ... } This expression is used in the paper to show how a UCS split is desugared: if Pair(x, y) is { || Pair(Some(xv), Some(yv)) => xv + yv || Pair(Some(xv), None) => xv || Pair(None, Some(yv)) => yv || Pair(None, None) => 0 } The desugaring in the paper introduces a lot of redundant tests. I would desugar straightforwardly, then rely on later optimizations to eliminate other redundancies such as the construction and immediate destruction of the pair: if Pair(x, y) is Pair(xx, yy) && xx is { || Some(xv) && yy is { || Some(yv) => xv + yv || None => xv } || None && yy is { || Some(yv) => yv || None => 0 } } Skipping ahead to the “non-trivial example” in the paper’s fig. 11: if e is { || Var(x) && context.get(x) is { || Some(IntVal(v)) => Left(v) || Some(BoolVal(v)) => Right(v) } || Lit(IntVal(v)) => Left(v) || Lit(BoolVal(v)) => Right(v) // ... } The next example in the paper compares C# relational patterns. Rust’s range patterns do a similar job, with the caveat that Rust’s ranges don’t have a syntax for exclusive lower bounds. fn classify(value) { if value is { || .. -4.0 => "too low" || 10.0 .. => "too high" || NaN => "unknown" || => "acceptable" } } I tend to think relational patterns are the better syntax than ranges. With relational patterns I can rewrite an earlier example like, if foo is { || Some(< 0) => -1 || Some(> 0) => +1 || { Some(0) || None } => 0 } I think with the UCS I would have to name the Some(_) value to be able to compare it, which suggests that relational patterns can be better than UCS split relational operators. Prefix-unary relational operators are also a nice way to write single-ended ranges in expressions. We could simply write both ends to get a complete range, like >= lo < hi or like if value is > -4.0 < 10.0 => "acceptable" || => "far out" Near the start I quoted a normalize example that illustrates left-aligned UCS expression. The penultimate version drifts right like the Scala version: if normalize(tp1) is { || Bot => Bot || tp1_n && normalize(tp2) is { || Bot => Bot || tp2_n && merge(tp1_n, tp2_n) is { || Some(tp) => tp || None => glb(tp1_n, tp2_n) } } } But a more Rusty style shows the benefits of early returns (especially the terse ? operator) and monadic combinators. let tp1 = normalize(tp1)?; let tp2 = normalize(tp2)?; merge(tp1, tp2) .unwrap_or_else(|| glb(tp1, tp2)) antepenultimate breath When I started writing these notes, my penultimate conditional syntax was little more than a sketch of an idea. Having gone through the previous section’s exercise, I think it has turned out better than I thought it might. The extra nesting from multi-way match braces doesn’t seem to be unbearably heavyweight. However, none of the examples have bulky then or else blocks which are where the extra nesting is more likely to be annoying. But then, as I said before it’s comparable to a Rust match: match scrutinee { pattern => { consequent } } if scrutinee is { || pattern => { consequent } } The || lines down the left margin are noisy, but hard to get rid of in the context of a curly-brace language. I can’t reduce them to | like OCaml because what would I use for bitwise OR? I don’t want presence or absence of flow control to depend on types or context. I kind of like Prolog / Erlang , for && and ; for ||, but that’s well outside what’s legible to mainstream programmers. So, dunno. Anyway, I think I’ve successfully found a syntax that does most of what UCS does, but much in a much simpler fashion.
The appeal of "vibe coding" — where programmers lean back and prompt their way through an entire project with AI — appears partly to be based on the fact that so many development environments are deeply unpleasant to work with. So it's no wonder that all these programmers stuck working with cumbersome languages and frameworks can't wait to give up on the coding part of software development. If I found writing code a chore, I'd be looking for retirement too. But I don't. I mean, I used to! When I started programming, it was purely because I wanted programs. Learning to code was a necessary but inconvenient step toward bringing systems to life. That all changed when I learned Ruby and built Rails. Ruby's entire premise is "programmer happiness": that writing code should be a joy. And historically, the language was willing to trade run-time performance, memory usage, and other machine sympathies against the pursuit of said programmer happiness. These days, it seems like you can eat your cake and have it too, though. Ruby, after thirty years of constant improvement, is now incredibly fast and efficient, yet remains a delight to work with. That ethos couldn't shine brighter now. Disgruntled programmers have finally realized that an escape from nasty syntax, boilerplate galore, and ecosystem hyper-churn is possible. That's the appeal of AI: having it hide away all that unpleasantness. Only it's like cleaning your room by stuffing the mess under the bed — it doesn't make it go away! But the instinct is correct: Programming should be a vibe! It should be fun! It should resemble English closely enough that line noise doesn't obscure the underlying ideas and decisions. It should allow a richness of expression that serves the human reader instead of favoring the strictness preferred by the computer. Ruby does. And given that, I have no interest in giving up writing code. That's not the unpleasant part that I want AI to take off my hands. Just so I can — what? — become a project manager for a murder of AI crows? I've had the option to retreat up the manager ladder for most of my career, but I've steadily refused, because I really like writing Ruby! It's the most enjoyable part of the job! That doesn't mean AI doesn't have a role to play when writing Ruby. I'm conversing and collaborating with LLMs all day long — looking up APIs, clarifying concepts, and asking stupid questions. AI is a superb pair programmer, but I'd retire before permanently handing it the keyboard to drive the code. Maybe one day, wanting to write code will be a quaint concept. Like tending to horses for transportation in the modern world — done as a hobby but devoid of any economic value. I don't think anyone knows just how far we can push the intelligence and creativity of these insatiable token munchers. And I wouldn't bet against their advance, but it's clear to me that a big part of their appeal to programmers is the wisdom that Ruby was founded on: Programming should favor and flatter the human.
I really like RTS games. I pretty much grew up on them, starting with Command&Conquer 3: Kane’s Wrath, moving on to StarCraft 2 trilogy and witnessing the downfall of Command&Conquer 4. I never had the disks for any other RTS games during my teenage years. Yes, the disks, the ones you go to the store to buy! I didn’t know Steam existed back then, so this was my only source of games. There is something magical in owning a physical copy of the game. I always liked the art on the front (a mandatory huge face for all RTS!), game description and screenshots on the back, even the smell of the plastic disk case.