Swamped

Classes end in about a month: the second of May, with grad commencement coming in mid-May. In those four weeks between now and May, I have to finish:

– Two Flash-based interactive pieces for Batts, one a nonlinear narrative and the other an interactive artwork of my choice.

– A research-based presentation on the history of HTML and web design for Druckrey.

– One foley sound effects project synced over a 1950’s sci-fi movie for McCabe in Sound 1.

– One more unspecified sound piece for the same class.

– And of course, my thesis for Schreiber, which is enough of a major project to take up the whole month all by itself.

At the same time, I still have my regular job, plus the simple task of surviving Baltimore city life on a daily basis. In wartime. So expect light blogging volume while I bury myself in the work.

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

Why there are no Programmers’ Dramas

All day long he had been working with a function which used “printf” commands to produce output from a database query. Simple and effective, but it meant that he was locked into one layout everytime he called that function, and if he needed the data displayed in another format, he would have to make another function altogether.

Too limiting, too limiting, he would rail in his thoughts, if only there was some way to populate an array with the db output, then just return the array at the end of the function and parse it after calling!

Simple in principle, yes, but he was working with multiple rows from a single query, which meant that the array to be returned would be nested at least two levels deep: one level for the row ID, to separate rows from each other, and then another level for the actual row data itself.

Nested arrays, he grumbled. I hate nested arrays. The less I have to deal with them, the better. He tried to visualize it, to see himself typing out the code which would loop through the row data and nest it within a loop of row ID’s, all nested within a plain old container variable. But he couldn’t do it. Somehow the vision would not come. He didn’t even need to see the syntax error message to know that this was not working.

It hit him later, in the subway station; he had been so obsessed with using foreach loops and muddling over whether to put variables in quotation marks, that he had missed the simpler solution right under his nose: There’s no need to use a loop for everything; just declare the associative indices explicitly on the second level! After a furtive glance around the empty station to make sure he was alone, he whipped out his computer and began typing furiously.

He was going to sleep well tonight. If he could only refrain from blogging…

Poor Raffy…

I called up Raffy today to wish him a Happy Birthday, and was greeted with a raspy, laryngitis-stricken voice. Aw, poor Raffy. Why not pay him a visit and wish him a speedy recovery? Somewhere in California, some fun contemporary worship service is missing his angelic tenor. Get well soon, bud.

Southbound Platforms

Arriving at Union Station, Washington, DC, on the eastmost raised platform. The platforms viewed here serve rails under the station and further south into Virginia.

Photo taken with an Aiptek Mini Pencam 1.3MP SD.

Poshlost, Hermitage, and Surrender Leaflets

(Hmm, no wonder all those Iraqi soldiers are surrendering: who could resist a surrender leaflet offer like this?)

Light blogging volume right now, because I’m really busy working on Whyblog.org (now with blog!) while simultaneously following all the war coverage, but I’ll break the silence long enough to say that jh3k is back with a new domain, since the old one seems to have turned into a bad porn site. Welcome back, Jim. Good to have you among us once again.

Speaking of porn, you might be interested to know what “poshlost” means in the Nabokov context. I think the Russians use it to mean “kitsch.”

And speaking of Russians, Amy and I just watched Alexander Sokurov’s Russian Ark at The Charles. What a strange, surreal, yet wonderfully engaging panorama of Russian history, travelling through the chambers and halls of The Hermitage, that palace-museum which preserves within its walls the legacy of the Tzars. The narrator’s viewpoint sweeps through time as smoothly as it flies through rooms, accompanied by a European co-narrator from the 1800s, as they jump between Tzarist Russia and present-day St. Petersburg. All in one smooth, single shot.

Okay, that’s it for now. Dos vedanya!

The Day After

Ugh. I had intended to go home around midnight, but work on WhyBlog.org, combined with the multiple distractions of following war news, reading blogs, and chatting on #mefi kept me up till 3am. I zonked out on the couch in the lab, meaning to catch the light rail home at 5am, but that never happens, does it? The pathetic part is that I barely even managed to accomplish anything: just install blogging software in WhyBlog and transfer the db routines to an integrated class. I still need to get down to those RSS parsers.

(What blogging software, you ask? MT. Yes, it won out in the end.)