More from Liz Denys
I've been biking in Brooklyn for a few years now! It's hard for me to believe it, but I'm now one of the people other bicyclists ask questions to now. I decided to make a zine that answers the most common of those questions: Bike Brooklyn! is a zine that touches on everything I wish I knew when I started biking in Brooklyn. A lot of this information can be found in other resources, but I wanted to collect it in one place. I hope to update this zine when we get significantly more safe bike infrastructure in Brooklyn and laws change to make streets safer for bicyclists (and everyone) over time, but it's still important to note that each release will reflect a specific snapshot in time of bicycling in Brooklyn. All text and illustrations in the zine are my own. Thank you to Matt Denys, Geoffrey Thomas, Alex Morano, Saskia Haegens, Vishnu Reddy, Ben Turndorf, Thomas Nayem-Huzij, and Ryan Christman for suggestions for content and help with proofreading. This zine is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License, so you can copy and distribute this zine for noncommercial purposes in unadapted form as long as you give credit to me. Check out the Bike Brooklyn! zine on the web or download pdfs to read digitally or print here!
I found inspiration for this pitcher's glaze design in the night sky. Whenever I feel lost, I know I can always look up and be under the same night sky, no matter where I am. Whenever I feel alone, I know I can always look up and feel connected to humanity, everyone else looking up at the same sky. Whenever I feel all is lost, the vast darkness in the night sky reminds me there are so many possibilities out there that I haven't even thought of yet. My studio practice is on a partial pause for an unknown amount of time right now; every piece I make is stuck in the greenware stage as I continue to save up to buy kilns and build out the glaze and kiln area. In some moments, this pause feels like a rare opportunity to take time to make more experimental and labor intensive pieces, but in other moments, I am overwhelmed by the feeling that pieces without a completion timeline on the horizon are just not worth doing. It's easy to bask in fleeting bursts of inspiration; it's harder to push through the periods where nothing feels worth doing. It's especially when the waves of anxiety about the unknown future of my studio practice and the waves of anxiety about the direction of the US government and the future of my country come at me at the same time. I try to ground myself, to keep myself from spiraling. I name things I can see, smell, hear. At night, I look to the dark sky. When I can, I reread Rebecca Solnit's Hope in the Dark: Hope locates itself in the premises that we don't know what will happen and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act. When you recognize uncertainty, you recognize that you may be able to influence the outcomes–you alone or you in concert with a few dozen or several million others. Hope is an embrace of the unknown and the unknowable, an alternative to the certainty of both optimists and pessimists. Optimists think it will all be fine without our involvement; pessimists take the opposite position; both excuse themselves from acting. It's the belief that what we do matters even though how and when it may matter, who and what it may impact, are not things we can know beforehand. We may not, in fact, know them afterward either, but they matter all the same, and history is full of people whose influence was most powerful after they were gone. May we all find hope in the dark and choose to act.
When I was glazing this v60-style cone, I was thinking of rising sea levels, eroding beaches, and melting ice caps. Trying to tackle large challenges like climate change is overwhelming in the best of times, and these are not the best of times. There are many things we can personally do to reduce our carbon footprints and fight climate change, but If we want to have any chance to succeed, we need to join together and organize. If you're new to organizing, connect with local groups already doing the work you're interested in, and don't forget to look for groups pushing for change outside of just the national stage. Creating more dense walkable, transit-oriented communities is one of our strongest tools for a sustainable, climate friendly future. Generally, the bulk this work in the US happens at the state and local levels. In addition to the climate benefits, it's essential work to keep communities together and fight displacement. I personally spend a lot of my spare time organizing locally around this issue to help ensure NYC and New York State stay places everyone can thrive. I focus especially on pro-housing policies and improving transportation options and reliability so climate-friendly, less car-dependent lifestyles - and New York's relative safety - can be for everyone.
Clay shrinks as it dries and even more as it's fired, so it's useful to have a way to estimate the final size of in-progress work - especially if you're making multiples or trying to fit pieces together. One way to do this is with shrinkage rulers. I figured I'd design my own shrinkage rulers and provide a way for folks to make them themselves since ceramic tool costs can add up. To make your shrinkage rulers: Download either the colorful printable shrinkage rulers or black and white printable shrinkage rulers. Print at 100% size. (These files are both 400 dpi.) Verify that the 0% shrinkage standard ruler at the top matches the size of an existing regular ruler you have. This quick calibration step will make sure nothing out of scale during printing! Cut out your rulers. Optionally, laminate or cover in packing tape to help them last longer. To use your shrinkage rulers: If you're using commercial clay, look up how much your clay is estimated to shrink. If you're using a blend of clays or custom clays, you'll have to calculate how much your clay shrinks. An easy way to do this is measure the length of a wet piece right after you form them and again after it's been through its glaze firing. You can then calculate the estimated shrinkage rate: Pick the shrinkage ruler that corresponds to your clay's shrinkage rate. If you're between shrinkage rates, you can estimate with a nearby size. Remember that shrinkage rates are estimates, and a piece's actual shrinkage depends on many variables, including how wet your clay is and how close it is to it's original composition (this can change with repeated recycling). Measure your wet piece with the shrinkage ruler! The length shown is the expected length your piece's dimension will be when fired. The fine print: Reminder that shrinkage rulers only give estimated lengths! You're welcome to print these shrinkage rulers for yourself or your business. You may use the printed shrinkage rulers privately, even in commercial applications (I hope they help your ceramic art and business!), provided you do not redistribute or resell the shrinkage rulers themselves in any form, digital or physical. Footnotes If you're working on a jar or something else that needs to fit together tightly, it's better not to rely on shrinkage rulers to get a perfect fit. In my experiences, you ideally want to make the vessel and the lid as close in time as possible and have them dry together and fire together through as many phases as possible.↩
I'm continuing my clay body reviews series with two very heavily grogged "sculpture" clays I've used. Note that I currently practice in a community studio that glaze fires to cone 6 in oxidation, so my observations reflect that. Standard 420 Sculpture: Cone 6: average shrinkage 8.0%, absorption 1.5% Light straw when fired to cone 6: more yellow/beige than most white stonewares so the color is something to consider in your final vision (or engobe in something else) So much grog that it’s best described as working with wet sand, non-derogatory I've made complicated open coil-based structures with this clay that have been formed across many studio sessions over a couple days, and they've survived without cracking! Wet clay attaches readily to leather hard and even slightly dry clay. Wrapping my works in dry cleaning bags until done and dry before bisque was enough - I was worried I'd have to make a damp box, but not with this clay! The grog is white and grey, and it comes in a variety of sizes, including some that is visually rather large. The grog really shows if you sand to smooth the surface. I typically dislike how this looks - the result ends up looking more like concrete than clay. If you use this for functional ware or anything you move around a lot, you'll certainly want to sand the bottom since the groggy surface is extra rough to protect tables and counters. Burnishing alone doesn't usually make this clay smooth. Can be thrown when very soft, but your hands will feel scratched if you're not used to it! Angled slab joins join readily, and support coils press in quickly and easily. Some members of my studio prefer to make plates with this clay because the high level of grog significantly reduces warping. I personally prefer to make plates with clays with far less grog that I dry very slowly. High palpable grog content means a weaker object, and I prefer more strength in objects that are handled frequently. Can be marbled with 798, but needs to dry slowly. Standard 420's straw color shows in the unglazed section of this planter's drip tray, and there's also some flashing from the glaze near the edges. I sanded the base of this piece so the slightly rough surface of Standard 420 wouldn't scratch tables, and you can see the contrast between the sanded bottom (outside) layer where the varied grogs are revealed and the rougher surfaces of the other layers where they are still covered by clay particles. This handbuilt planter was made of Standard 798 over multiple studio sessions. The sculptural coil structures attached readily with my regular slip and score process, and it dried evenly enough to not crack with my regular process of drying under a single plastic dry-cleaning bag. This coiled wall art piece was made out of equal parts Standard 112 and Standard 420 wedged fully together. There's still ample grog in this hybrid clay body to work the same as the Standard 798 planter's coiled structure. Standard 798 Black Sculpture: Cone 6: average shrinkage 10%, absorption 1.0% Dark brown when wet, fires to a gorgeous black at cone 6 when unglazed. Clear glazes will make this clay look brown, so you need to use a black like Coyote Black or Amaco Obsidian to preserve the black color if you want to glaze it. So much grog that it’s best described as working with wet sand, non-derogatory. The grog is white, and provides a lovely contrast when on the surface or sanded to be revealed. Like 420, you'll probably want to sand the bottom of anything you'll pick up and put down more than once. Very similar working qualities to 420 - a true joy for handbuilding! Can be marbled with 420, but needs to dry slowly.
More in programming
Last year I wrote a pair of articles about ratelimiting: GCRA: leaky buckets without the buckets exponential rate limiting Recently, Chris “cks” Siebenmann has been working on ratelimiting HTTP bots that are hammering his blog. His articles prompted me to write some clarifications, plus a few practical anecdotes about ratelimiting email. mea culpa The main reason I wrote the GCRA article was to explain GCRA better without the standard obfuscatory terminology, and to compare GCRA with a non-stupid version of the leaky bucket algorithm. It wasn’t written with my old exponential ratelimiting in mind, so I didn’t match up the vocabulary. In the exponential ratelimiting article I tried to explain how the different terms correspond to the same ideas, but I botched it by trying to be too abstract. So let’s try again. parameters It’s simplest to configure these ratelimiters (leaky bucket, GCRA, exponential) with two parameters: limit period The maximum permitted average rate is calculated from these parameters by dividing them: rate = limit / period The period is the time over which client behaviour is averaged, which is also how long it takes for the ratelimiter to forget past behaviour. In my GCRA article I called it the window. Linear ratelimiters (leaky bucket and GCRA) are 100% forgetful after one period; the exponential ratelimiter is 67% forgetful. The limit does double duty: as well as setting the maximum average rate (measured in requests per period) it sets the maximum size (measured in requests) of a fast burst of requests following a sufficiently long quiet gap. how bursty You can increase or decrease the burst limit – while keeping the average rate limit the same – by increasing or decreasing both the limit and the period. For example, I might set limit = 600 requests per period = 1 hour. If I want to allow the same average rate, but with a smaller burst size, I might set limit = 10 requests per period = 1 minute. anecdote When I was looking after email servers, I set ratelimits for departmental mail servers to catch outgoing spam in case of compromised mail accounts or web servers. I sized these limits to a small multiple of the normal traffic so that legitimate mail was not delayed but spam could be stopped fairly quickly. A typical setting was 200/hour, which is enough for a medium-sized department. (As a rule of thumb, expect people to send about 10 messages per day.) An hourly limit is effective at catching problems quickly during typical working hours, but it can let out a lot of spam over a weekend. So I would also set a second backstop limit like 1000/day, based on average daily traffic instead of peak hourly traffic. It’s a lower average rate that doesn’t forget bad behaviour so quickly, both of which help with weekend spam. variable cost Requests are not always fixed-cost. For example, you might want to count the request size in bytes when ratelimiting bandwidth. The exponential algorithm calculates the instantaneous rate as r_inst = cost / interval where cost is the size of the request and interval is the time since the previous request. I’ve edited my GCRA algorithm to make the cost of requests more clear. In GCRA a request uses up some part of the client’s window, a nominal time measured in seconds. To convert a request’s size into time spent: spend = cost / rate So the client’s earliest permitted time should be updated like: time += cost * period / limit (In constrained implementations the period / limit factor can be precomputed.) how lenient When a client has used up its burst limit and is persistently making requests faster than its rate limit, the way the ratelimiter accepts or rejects requests is affected by the way it updates its memory of the client. For exim’s ratelimit feature I provided two modes called “strict” and “leaky”. There is a third possibility: an intermediate mode which I will call “forgiving”. The “leaky” mode is most lenient. An over-limit client will have occasional requests accepted at the maximum permitted rate. The rest of its requests will be rejected. When a request is accepted, all of the client’s state is updated; when a request is rejected, the client’s state is left unchanged. The lenient leaky mode works for both GCRA and exponential ratelimiting. In “forgiving” mode, all of a client’s requests are rejected while it is over the ratelimit. As soon as it slows down below the ratelimit its requests will start being accepted. When a request is accepted, all of the client’s state is updated; when a request is rejected, the client’s time is updated, but (in the exponential ratelimiter) not its measured rate. The forgiving mode works for both GCRA and exponential ratelimiting. In “strict” mode, all of a client’s requests are rejected while it is over the ratelimit, and requests continue to be rejected after a client has slowed down depending on how fast it previously was. When a request is accepted or rejected, both of the client’s time and measured rate are updated. The strict mode only works for exponential ratelimiting. I only realised yesterday, from the discussion with cks, how a “forgiving” mode can be useful for the exponential ratelimiter, and how it corresponds to the less-lenient mode of linear leaky bucket and GCRA ratelimiters. (I didn’t describe the less-lenient mode in my GCRA article.) anecdote One of the hardest things about ratelimiting email was coming up with a policy that didn’t cause undue strife and unnecessary work. When other mail servers (like the departmental server in the anecdote above) were sending mail through my relays, it made sense to use “leaky” ratelimiter mode with SMTP 450 temporary rejects. When there was a flood of mail, messages would be delayed and retried automatically. When their queue size alerts went off, the department admin could take a look and respond as appropriate. That policy worked fairly well. However, when the sender was an end-user sending via my MUA message submission servers, they usually were not running software that could gracefully handle an SMTP 450 temporary rejection. The most difficult cases were the various college and department alumni offices. Many of them would send out annual newsletters, using some dire combination of Microsoft Excel / Word / Outlook mailmerge, operated by someone with limited ability to repair a software failure. In that situation, SMTP 450 errors broke their mailshots, causing enormous problems for the alumni office and their local IT support. (Not nice to realise I caused such trouble!) The solution was to configure the ratelimiter in “strict” mode and “freeze” or quarantine over-limit bulk mail from MUAs. The “strict” mode ensured that everything after the initial burst of a spam run was frozen. When the alert was triggered I inspected a sample of the frozen messages. If they were legitimate newsletters, I could thaw them for delivery and reset the user’s ratelimit. In almost all cases the user would not be disturbed. If it turned out the user’s account was compromised and used to send spam, then I could get their IT support to help sort it out, and delete the frozen junk from the quarantine. That policy worked OK: I was the only one who had to deal with my own false positives, and they were tolerably infrequent.
Linus Torvalds, Creator of Git and Linux, on reducing cognitive load
You heard there was money in tech. You never cared about technology. You are an entryist piece of shit. But you won’t leave willingly. Give it all away to everyone for free. Then you’ll have no reason to be here.
Understanding how the architecture of a remote build system for Bazel helps implement verifiable action execution and end-to-end builds
Debates, at their finest, are about exploring topics together in search for truth. That probably sounds hopelessly idealistic to anyone who've ever perused a comment section on the internet, but ideals are there to remind us of what's possible, to inspire us to reach higher — even if reality falls short. I've been reaching for those debating ideals for thirty years on the internet. I've argued with tens of thousands of people, first on Usenet, then in blog comments, then Twitter, now X, and also LinkedIn — as well as a million other places that have come and gone. It's mostly been about technology, but occasionally about society and morality too. There have been plenty of heated moments during those three decades. It doesn't take much for a debate between strangers on this internet to escalate into something far lower than a "search for truth", and I've often felt willing to settle for just a cordial tone! But for the majority of that time, I never felt like things might escalate beyond the keyboards and into the real world. That was until we had our big blow-up at 37signals back in 2021. I suddenly got to see a different darkness from the most vile corners of the internet. Heard from those who seem to prowl for a mob-sanctioned opportunity to threaten and intimidate those they disagree with. It fundamentally changed me. But I used the experience as a mirror to reflect on the ways my own engagement with the arguments occasionally felt too sharp, too personal. And I've since tried to refocus way more of my efforts on the positive and the productive. I'm by no means perfect, and the internet often tempts the worst in us, but I resist better now than I did then. What I cannot come to terms with, though, is the modern equation of words with violence. The growing sense of permission that if the disagreement runs deep enough, then violence is a justified answer to settle it. That sounds so obvious that we shouldn't need to state it in a civil society, but clearly it is not. Not even in technology. Not even in programming. There are plenty of factions here who've taken to justify their violent fantasies by referring to their ideological opponents as "nazis", "fascists", or "racists". And then follow that up with a call to "punch a nazi" or worse. When you hear something like that often enough, it's easy to grow glib about it. That it's just a saying. They don't mean it. But I'm afraid many of them really do. Which brings us to Charlie Kirk. And the technologists who name drinks at their bar after his mortal wound just hours after his death, to name but one of the many, morbid celebrations of the famous conservative debater's death. It's sickening. Deeply, profoundly sickening. And my first instinct was exactly what such people would delight in happening. To watch the rest of us recoil, then retract, and perhaps even eject. To leave the internet for a while or forever. But I can't do that. We shouldn't do that. Instead, we should double down on the opposite. Continue to show up with our ideals held high while we debate strangers in that noble search for the truth. Where we share our excitement, our enthusiasm, and our love of technology, country, and humanity. I think that's what Charlie Kirk did so well. Continued to show up for the debate. Even on hostile territory. Not because he thought he was ever going to convince everyone, but because he knew he'd always reach some with a good argument, a good insight, or at least a different perspective. You could agree or not. Counter or be quiet. But the earnest exploration of the topics in a live exchange with another human is as fundamental to our civilization as Socrates himself. Don't give up, don't give in. Keep debating.