Permaculture principles There are two basic steps to good permaculture design. The first deals with laws and principles, while the second is more closely associated with practical techniques. The principles are inherent in any permaculture design, in any climate, and at any scale. They are, briefly: Relative location: every element is placed in relationship to another so that they assist each other Each element performs many functions. Each important function is supported by many elements. Efficient energy planning for house and settlement. Emphasis on the use of biological resources over fossil fuel resources. Energy recycling on site. Using and accelerating natural plant succession to establish favourable sites and soils. Polyculture and diversity of beneficial species for a productive, interactive system. Use of edge and natural patterns for best effect. Bill Mollison, Introduction to Permaculture principles
Software developers have stopped caring about reliability An Article by Drew DeVault drewdevault.com Of all the principles of software engineering which has fallen by the wayside in the modern “move fast and break things” mentality of assholes modern software developers, reliability is perhaps the most neglected, along with its cousin, robustness. Almost all software that users encounter in $CURRENTYEAR is straight-up broken, and often badly. softwareprinciples
On the Winds An Article by Justin E. H. Smith justinehsmith.substack.com On the Situations and Names of the Winds is the title of a fragment of a pseudo-Aristotelian treatise, most likely written by a later author of the Peripatetic school. The two-page work identifies and briefly describes the names not just of the four anemoi, but gives a wind-name to each of the twelve points of the so-called “wind-rose”, slightly less poetically the “compass rose”, which is the figure seen on classical nautical charts and maps that shows the cardinal points as well as points intermediate. ...In both agricultural and maritime settings, the names of the winds were at once practical and phenomenologically basic: to step outside and to feel them was to know how things were in the most basic sense, to “know which way the wind is blowing”, as we still vestigially say, and to find the language to speak of it. ...If I were ever permitted to teach a course on the philosophy of wind, I would begin with the questions: How did the winds lose their names? And what does it mean for us to live in a world of nameless winds? I step outside and I feel a gust. “That’s wind,” I think to myself, and I have nothing more to add beyond that. I don’t know the winds. nameswindclimatephilosophy