A Year in the Life

Babbage turned one on Friday…

 

The day we brought him home…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Playing with some teething keys…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Napping with Kenneth and Kismet

 

 

 

 

 

Waking up…

 

 

 

Or sleeping in…

 

Enjoying his Birthday Cake (well, muffin and cream cheese)…

 

 

 

 

 

 

All gone!

An Unexpected Studio

I expected to use my iPad as a media consumption device. An eBook reader, movie viewer… a game console.

I did not expect to use it as a Music studio. In hindsight, that was foolish. It is far more powerful a machine than the decade old PC that used to be attached to the synths, after all.

The first step was a pair of tools; the iOS version of Amazing Slow Downer, and Tunebook, an ABC cataloging and editing tool. With the two of those and an external instrument, I could start transcribing tunes I wanted to learn — my ear is not good enough to learn entirely by ear.

With the addition of GarageBand, and an external Bluetooth keyboard (in the computer sense, not the music sense), I could do everything from the Coffee Shop.

But GarageBand has some issues (mostly the latency on activation) that made it annoying, so I added Music Studio, a SoftSynth, Sequencer, and also a MIDI input device.

And by this time next week, I should have an iConnectMIDI interface, and be able to use the iPad or iPhone (yeah, the iPad led there as well), for both synthesis and sequencing with my existing gear. Content consumption I expected. Content creation, that is a joyful surprise.

Javascript: The (Drinking) Game

Setup Rules:

Each player shall bring with them (or cause to have brought for them) a sufficiency of their alcoholic beverage of choice. Those with lesser experience with Javascript should limit themselves to less potent drinks, for fear of alcohol poisoning.

Players shall arrange themselves around a table (ideally circular) in a clockwise ascending order of self-reported knowledge of Javascript and its idiocyncracies. This is to allow the maximal engagement of all participants.

Gameplay Rules:

Starting from the player with the least knowledge of Javascript, and moving clockwise, each player shall in turn declare a problematic feature of the language, explaining the oddity in as much detail as necessary. Core language mistakes are clearly preferred, but oddities of common libraries and Javascript implementations or environments are also welcome.

The other players will then vote by a show of hands. No hand raised means a vote for “sip”, thumbs up means a vote for “drink”, and thumbs down means a vote for “actually, that’s a good feature”. All “thumbs down” votes must be justified.

After the voting, everyone involved who was previously unaware of this linguistic misfortune must drink the voted amount. Anyone who voted “thumbs down” and was outvoted must drink double.

Optional Rule: The presenting player may also present security implications of the language quirk. Voting is again held based on the severity of the flaw, and anyone who was previously unaware of this particular security issue (even if they knew of the underlying linguistic issue) must drink the voted amount.

Victory Conditions:

None, really. You’ve just spent the night (or day, or possibly thirty-martini lunch break) discussing Javascript. On the bright side, you’ve been able to drown your sorrows. And on the off chance you are still sober, it means you’ve been able to use your hard won, SAN loss inducing, knowledge of Javascript to directly drive others to drink — instead of just doing it metaphorically.

 

Every pet is a tiny tragedy waiting to happen. –George Carlin

Kismet has been in failing health for some time.

We had made the decision this morning to euthanize her, as her good days seemed to be vanishing. There is always a second-guessing when euthanizing a pet, a damned-if-you-do damned-if-you-don’t balancing act between ending a life to soon, and letting an animal suffer because you don’t want to make the decision.

When we brought her in, the vet determined that she had metastized abdominal cancer. It was no longer a question of whether she would die soon, just whether she would die peacefully.

Farewell, kiddo. You had a rough first five years, and a great last ten.