Function, Functionality, Functionalism
The requirements of economy
Useless work on useful things
The minimum condition
Form eschews function
Feeble and ugly
Functionalism can be a kind of religion
Each element performs many functions
The informing idea of functionalism
Same name in the same basket
The plan must anticipate all that is needed
The element becomes a sign
Classical absurdity
205. Structure Follows Social Spaces
Roaming and capricious
What are those borders made of?
Presentable
A strangely negative character
Sine qua non
The contribution that something in them yet compelled them to make
Something more is required
Mechanisms and organisms
The center of the way
The Evolution of Useful Things
The usages of life
Form follows function
Against form follows function
UI and Capability
Embracing design constraints
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A Plea for Lean Software
An Essay by Niklaus WirthSoftware's girth has surpassed its functionality, largely because hardware advances make this possible. The way to streamline software lies in disciplined methodologies and a return to the essentials.
Beauty in flight
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— Ben Rich, Skunk Works
The Evolution and Fate of Botanical Field Books
To serve as a reminder
Looking back at my notebooks now, the information seems fairly sketchy, often abbreviated, and fairly uninformative. The purpose was merely to serve as a reminder for when, that evening, I would write up my notes in a proper field book.
Sterile creatures
Now that we are in the era of personal computers, traditional field books are being replaced by computer files. By default such “field books” are sterile creatures—all the words are spelled properly, the location data are exact to a matter of a few feet, and everything is properly formatted. In the spring of 1998, I penciled my last entry into my signature field book with the bright orange cover. Thereafter I have maintained a computer-based field book.
Oh, all the right stuff is there, clear, crisp and, well, dull… I tend to be overly particular about it—the format has to be right, everything properly spelled, the descriptive sequence in the proper order, and even the observations drafted with the final publication in mind (rather than what I happen to see at the moment). The emotions of finding something new, once mentioned in my handwritten field books, are now missing, as if my mental editor says “no, that is not proper for a scientific journal.”
Further and further away
In looking over my own forty-five years of keeping a record of plant specimens, I find that I am personally moving further and further away from the words I generate, becoming more aloof and separate from the experience of the actual event of collecting, concentrating instead on the precision of where and when. It is merely record keeping for the sole purpose of giving the facts.
With the decline of letter writing and the sterilization of field books, what we are losing is the individual. Field books are like letters that are replaced by often ephemeral emails. I fear that as we move further into the computer age we will similarly lose the detailed historical record that field books once provided. Sadly, the personalities of botanists will also be lost, for such musings as might be found in a field book are often telling to those wishing to know more of the past.