Scales of cities, scales of software An Article by Linus the Sephist linus.coffee American cities seem like a product of industrial processes where older European cities seem like a product of human processes. This is because most American cities were built after and alongside the car and the industrial revolution – the design of cities took into account what was easily possible, and that guided the shape and scale of everything. Software has similar analogues. There are software codebases that feel much more industrially generated than hand written, and they’re usually written in automation-rich environments fitting into frameworks and other orchestrating code. …But despite the availability of cars, I still much prefer the scale and ambiance of European, human-scale cities, because ultimately cities are places humans must inhabit and understand. In the same way, I still much prefer the scale and ambiance of hand-written codebases even in the presence of heavy programming tooling, because ultimately codebases are places humans must inhabit. urbanismsoftwarescaleindustry
evermore, and other beautiful things An Article by Linus the Sephist linus.coffee If all evidence of civilization on Earth was destroyed, and humans had to re-build society from the ground up, what would be different? Feynman reckons that pivotal scientific moments, like the discovery of the atom, will still happen in the same way. Perhaps mathematics will be similarly rediscovered. Someone told me once in response to this question, no artwork would ever be recreated. The art we create – music, stories, dance, film – isn’t a fundamental element of the universe, or even of humanity. It’s unique to each artist. If you choose to create art, you leave something in the world that has never had a chance to exist before, and will never again have a chance to exist. There will never be another Beatles or Studio Ghibli or Picasso. Art, in its infinite variations of originality, is cosmically unique in a way the sciences will never be. Art immortalizes human experiences that would otherwise vanish in time. artsciencehumanitysociety
Several Short Sentences About Writing A Book by Verlyn Klinkenborg www.goodreads.com Here, in short, is what I want to tell you. Know what each sentence says, What it doesn't say, And what it implies. Of these, the hardest is knowing what each sentence actually says. Sonorisms VBoth models are completely uselessThe shape of the sentenceThe Anxiety of SequenceYou can get anywhere from anywhere+18 More Wittgenstein's MistressWrite SimplyThe most important thing you do writing
Sonorisms V Leave space between them for the things that words can't really say. To suggest more than the words seem to allow. Perhaps it renames the world. The Anxiety of Sequence. It was all change until the very last second. The debris of someone else's thinking. You'll never run out of noticings. Names that announce the whatness of the world. What were you trying to protect? You were protecting the memory. The tyranny of what exists. Do any of them sound first? It sets an echo in motion. Try writing for the reader in yourself. So call it "perfection enough". Toward the name of the world—yours to discover. euphony
Both models are completely useless In your head, you'll probably find two models for writing. One is the familiar model taught in high school and college—a matter of outlines and drafts and transitions and topic sentences and argument. The other model is its antithesis—the way poets and novelists are often thought to write. Words used to describe this second model include "genius", "inspiration", "flow", and "natural", sometimes even "organic". Both models are useless. I should qualify that sentence. Both models are completely useless. genius
The shape of the sentence You've been taught to overlook the character of the prose in front of you in order to get at its meaning. You overlook the shape of the sentence itself for the meaning it contains, Which means that while you were reading, All those millions of words passed by Without teaching you how to make sentences. meaningstructure
The Anxiety of Sequence Much of what's taught under the name of expository writing could be called "The Anxiety of Sequence." Its premise is this: To get where you're going, you have to begin in just the right place And take the proper path, Which depends on knowing where you plan to conclude. The Age of the Essay essays
You can get anywhere from anywhere And if you can get anywhere from anywhere, You can start anywhere And end anywhere. There is no single necessary order. progressending
Significant everywhere Writing isn't a conveyor belt bearing the reader to "the point" at the end of the piece, where the meaning will be revealed. Good writing is significant everywhere, Delightful everywhere. goodness
It was all change until the very last second Every work of literature is the result of thousands and thousands of decisions. Intricate, minute decisions—this word or that, here or where, now or later, again and again. It's the living tissue of a writer's choices, Not the fossil record of an ancient, inspired race. A concept of style decisionscraft
A renaming of the already named A true metaphor is a swift and violent twisting of language, A renaming of the already named. It's meant to expire in a sudden flash of light And to reveal—in that burst of illumination— A correspondence that must be literally accurate. metaphornames
The debris of someone else's thinking A cliché isn't just a familiar, overused saying. It's the debris of someone else's thinking. cliché
How each sentence got that way When the work is really complete, the writer knows how each sentence got that way. intent
This small internal quaver Pay attention now: No matter how much you know or learn about syntax, grammar, or rhetoric, This small internal quaver, this inner disturbance, Is the most useful evidence you'll ever get. Someday, you'll be able to articulate what causes it. But for now, what's important is to notice it. Noticing is always the goal. ...the faint vertigo caused by an ambiguity you can't quite detect. What matter is what it points to. Find out what's causing it and fix it Even if you're not sure how. Notes on the Synthesis of Form attention
The urge to be done "Flow" is often a synonym for ignorance and laziness. It's also a sign of haste, the urge to be done. productivity
Talking and writing Talking is natural. Writing is not. It may seem strange that the manual dexterity needed to hold a pencil—or use a keyboard—comes later than the lingual and mental dexterity needed to speak. But it does. speech
What were you trying to protect? As the piece evolves, you try to protect those original, effusive sentences. Only to realize, at last, that what you're writing won't come together until they've been removed or revised. What were you trying to protect? The memory of the excitement you felt when those words "came to you." (Where did they "come" from?) You were protecting the memory of the excitement of really concentrating, of paying close attention to your thoughts and, perhaps, your sentences, the excitement of feeling the galvanic link between language and thought. memory
The discoveries you make in the making Style is an expression of the interest you take in the making of every sentence. It emerges, almost without intent, from your engagement with each sentence. It's the discoveries you make in the making of the prose itself. Where ambiguity rules, there is no "style"—or anything else worth having. Pursue clarity instead. In the pursuit of clarity, style reveals itself. The idea grows as they workFour principlesExpressing ideas helps to form them styleclaritymaking
The virtue of already existing It can be overwhelming—the inertia of the paragraphs and pages you've already composed, the sentences you've already written, No matter how rough they are. Whether you love what you've written or not, Those sentences have the virtue of already existing, Which makes them better than sentences that don't exist. Or so it seems.
Composition and revision Revise at the point of composition. Compose at the point of revision. Think of composition and revision as the same thing. 104. Site Repair design
Squander your material Squander your material. Don't ration it, saving the best for last. You don't know what the best is. Or the last.
Do any of them sound first? Just try out some sentences. Lots of them. See how they sound. Do any of them sound first? You're holding an audition. Many sentences will try out. One gets the part.
When you're interested in what you're working on It's never hard to work when you're interested in what you're working on. But what if you hate what you're working on? It helps to examine the content of your loathing. What is it you hate? hatework
The work selects its audience Imagine a cellist playing one of Bach's solo suites. Does he consider his audience? (Did Bach, for that matter?) Does he play the suit differently to audiences Of different incomes and educations and social backgrounds? No. The work selects its audience.