Oh, wow. Life.

 Marvin's not here, so I can talk to you about life.

It's been many years since I updated this, and blogs are no longer the thing, but sometimes I still blog.

My life has been...a mess.  ApolloCon died, and then my marriage, and then my stepdaughter's husband, and then my son.

That all kind of occupies my mind.  I no longer wonder what Fresh Hell today will bring because it no longer holds any mystery for me.

Anyway, I hope whoever reads this is living an awesome life.  We all deserve to have awesome lives.

ApolloCon 2013 is OVER

I just returned home from the hotel where ApolloCon 2013 was held.  I thank all of the people there.  The guests, the committee, the hotel staff, even the guys wandering around going what the HELL IS THIS?

It's Not That Hard

I've been in science fiction fandom for a long time.  I went to my first convention (Marcon) in 1981 or 1982, and I've worked for ApolloCon for 9 of the 10 years that we've done it.  I even work for other fannish organizations.

More than a year ago, when I was chair of ApolloCon 2012, I went to FenCon and I overheard one of the people in con con suite talk about how impossible it was to run one of those things.  For those of you how don't know what a con suite is, it's a hospitality suite--a place where they serve food and people are supposed to eat and sit and talk.  It's a lot like the convention as a whole, only less structured.  In fact, I have often described my vision of a con suite as "a convention in miniature."

At that time, I had been searching for someone to run the ApolloCon 2012 Con Suite (Kim Zrubek would volunteer to do that roughly three months later) for some time, and I couldn't help but remark that the job was not in any way impossible.

Of course, that set off the person who had made the original comment.  I don't recall many of the details, but the general thrust was that I was wrong and that they had observed the con suite staff slaving away at many, many conventions, and that I shouldn't have any right to comment until I'd actually attempted such a job.  Afterwards, the individual left me there to consider the wrongness of my ways.  At this point, Tim Morgan (chair of the FenCon after that one) leaned over and said quietly, "Didn't you used to run the ApolloCon Con Suite?"  I replied just as quietly: "Yup.  Three years in a row."

To be sure, the con suite is a big job.  The work on the Con Suite would start two days before the convention, and would go into the day following the convention.  During that time, there wasn't all that much time to do much of anything else.  There was a lot of prepping and setting out and picking up and cleaning.  I went shopping a half-dozen times and spent a lot of money.  You don't sign up for con suite and expect that you'll spend much time attending panels.  I still had time to take a few turns through the dealer's room and see the art show, but much of what happened during those three years is just a mystery.

My point is that, as a person who has done several of ApolloCon's big jobs, I think that the attitude that a job is not merely big, but actually impossible without superhuman efforts to be the biggest barrier to running a convention.  I was reminded of this when I was reading an on-line book on learning Morse Code:  If you start a job with the attitude that a job is going to be unpleasant and difficult, you'll wind up with a difficult and unpleasant job.  I expect that attitude is a major part of any significant undertaking.

So, the next time someone offers you the chance to take on a big role, or even a small one, why not take the attitude that you can do it?  It might make all the difference.

On The Lisp Curse

I have a what I call a Links Page which has a set of links to things that have caught my fancy at one point or another.  I created that page, and others like it, because I realized that emailing myself links didn't really work because they got lost in the email before my interest in them returned.  Putting them in a page works and is the perfect thing to avoid the problem of links belonging to only one browser or only one machine and suchlike.

In fact, I've achieved some mild fame with those links pages, which isn't bad for content that I use mostly to help me goof off when I'm at work.

Today, I've been thinking about a couple of programming links on that page.  Those pages make more sense if you understand what the "AI Winter" is.  Basically, in the 1970's and early 1980's everyone knew that AI was coming and it would be implemented in Lisp.  Of course, AI has been on the verge of a breakthrough, for as long as I've been a programmer, but it never seems to actually get here.  The overhyping and subsequent collapse of AI techniques in general (neural networks, expert systems, etc.) and the Lisp language in particular, along with the rather large resource requirements of the 1980's Lisp systems compared to the 1980's microcomputers, is basically why there are few Lisp users now.  I have made several attempts at learning Lisp deeply, which is a far different thing from learning the syntax and writing a few toy programs in it, (something I have done,) but I never got far enough in it to get past the strangeness of it.  I think that's a shame, too, because I believe in the truism that programming languages that do not change the way you think about programming aren't worth learning, and the corollary you should learn every programming language that changes the way you think, and Lisp has the potential to change everything.

And yet it doesn't.

So, why not?  Well, this article attempts to explain it in terms used by this article.  I think that what those articles have to say is interesting, if not for the reasons put as their conclusions.  Briefly summarized, the idea they present is this:  Lisp's biggest problem is that it is too powerful.  While adding a feature to C is so immensely complicated that only a few attempt it and those of us among the great unwashed adopt the solutions of the few, adding similar features to Lisp is so easy that it's easier to add your own to scratch your particular itch than it is to try to figure out how to use someone else's solution.  That means that the "second order" political effect of trying to get people to adopt someone else's GUI library dominates which means the "first order" technical superiority is preventing from coming to the fore because everybody keeps rewriting the same stuff.  Over and over.

The first problem with this line of argument is that it gets the order of the problems backwards.  One way to view programming languages is primarily as a means for programmers to communicate with each other.  This position has been held by a lot of really bright people, and there is a lot to be said for this view.  Indeed, if you're trying to get people to adopt your code, making sure they understand it is of first importance because until your target programmers achieve some sort of understanding with it, it'll always be viewed with suspicion.  Not only that, but technical capability of a programming language is of secondary importance at best.

That second bit there, by the way, completely explains the "Lisp Curse" and is not a new idea.  That was the whole point behind Fred Books's "There Is No Silver Bullet" and "Silver Bullet Refired" articles.  Summarizing that goes something like this:  Programmer productivity (what technical capability is supposed to enhance) is dependent upon the complexity that those programmers have to deal with.  The complexity comes from two places, insufficient expressive power in the programming language and "essential complexity" which is complexity that is inherent in the problem that the programmer is attempting to solve.  The problem being that it doesn't take very much expressive power for a programming language to be expressive enough to eliminate nearly all of the complexity associated with the tools, and that threshold is passed even by lowly C.  That means that changing the programming language can have only the most marginal of effects on programmer productivity.  Lisp isn't used because it is simply impossible for switching to Lisp to have the sort of benefits that would offset the cost.

The problem with not having a generally accepted solution for various problems, and here it's more appropriate to think of things like GUI libraries, Web libraries, threading libraries, and so forth than it is lazy evaluation or object orientation is that what is available tends to be crap.  You see, when people write something for their own use it tends to only implement the parts that whoever wrote it is interested in, and anything difficult or uninteresting is left for a future time.  The fact of the matter is that different projects need different feature sets so what may solve 90+% of one project's problems might solve less than half of another's.  That tendency to implement only part of a solution is a main reason why it's easy to implement libraries from scratch in Lisp.  Of course it's easy, if you leave the hard parts out.

The thing is, partial solutions are very nearly as easy in C++ or Python or whatever as it is in Lisp.  It's not the programming language that makes that task so much easier, it's the leaving of the hard parts out.  Well, that and the blind spot most people have for estimating the effort of a task that is unfamiliar to them.  Never fall for the line that this time a task will be much faster because you'll use better tools this time because the tools never make that much of a difference.  It's just not going to happen.

Anyway, a fully-formed library can make a difference, but it needs to be well-suited for whatever problem you're trying to solve.  So, the fact that people happened to have been writing in C when many of these libraries were created, and the fact that those libraries have been around a long time and solve a wide variety of common problems, makes a C programmer de facto more productive than a Lisp programmer because much of their solution is created for them, and people experienced with paying money for solutions tend to be skeptical of the time estimates for software written from scratch while third-party libraries have a known cost.

Of course the problem is political.  It's always easier to imagine your own project from scratch than it is to attempt to understand someone else's.  However, in the long term that understanding is what makes for a tool that will actually get used instead of one where people write blog posts about.  Posts where someone imagines what might have been.  If only.

I'll be at ConDFW this weekend, stop on by

If all goes well we should be holding an ApolloCon Room party Saturday night at ConDFW this weekend.  The room will be announced when we know it.  If you're there, drop on by.

The Right to a Firearm

I've kind of been casting about for stuff to write about, and when I asked my wife about it, one of the things she suggested was gun control because everyone is writing about it.  This is because, at the time that I write this, an "assault weapons ban" is being debated, an idea which came to the fore as a result of the school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut.

I'm not interested in covering the same ground that others have ground into mud, so my immediate reaction was "I don't have anything to say about that" but I was watching a video yesterday that touched on an idea that I had some time ago, and so I thought maybe I should talk about that, and the result is these words that you're reading.

First, a word on rights.  When I first thought about what a "right" is, I was puzzled by the way people talked about rights.  On the one hand, they seemed to be granted by various legal documents, spoken of like "I have a Constitutional right to this."  And on the other hand,the way people talked about them as if they weren't granted by various legal documents, as exemplified by the phrase "endowed by our creator."  So, what gives?  Well, I have come to think of rights as a kind of a decision that's always considered right.  However, doing what's right in the abstract sense is sometimes not permitted under the law, which leads to the inclusion of a list of things that people must be allowed to do in the Constitution, which is supposed to prevent the creation of bad law.

By the way, I don't think of any right as absolute.  That is, there is no decision that is always right, there are only decisions that are right the vast majority of the time.  Only a moment's reflection is needed to come up with a reason why any right might be wrong, in some circumstances.  That's where the concept of "due process" comes from because someone has to judge whether or not the abrogation of one right is justified by the necessities of another.  I think the right that comes the closest to absolute is the right to secure your own person and property.

And that's important because the right to a firearm isn't the real right, the right to secure your person and your property is the real right.  A firearm is simply the most effective way to do that in many cases, and it's effective enough to be the method listed specifically in the Constitution of the United States of America.

The thing is, some governments have decided that firearms aren't appropriate in some places.  The elementary school in Newtown, CT is one such "gun free zone", and the North Harris campus of the Lone Star College is another.  I mention the latter one not only because I'll be spending much of the next few Saturdays there, but also because last weekend I spent quite a bit of time staring at the "this campus is a gun free zone" signs posted all over that campus.  (I vividly recall one that was on the inner door of the men's room stall that I occupied for a brief time.)  Those majority of those signs were put up, no doubt, because of the shootings that happened there a couple of weeks ago.

Of course, people are free to decide to not go armed, and a government might decide that the right thing to do is limit the ability of lawful citizens to go armed in a particular place.  Most citizens who choose not to go armed have put their trust in something other than brute force for his or her security.  However, if a place is declared a "gun free" zone, then the government has apparently decided that it can do the job of guarding the occupants' persons and property better than those citizens can.  In the case of a building full of preadolescent children, that might be justified.  In the case of a community college, it's considerably less likely to be so.

However, in both cases the state that forbade the legal carry of firearms by its citizens in a particular place fell woefully short of the job of protecting the occupants of that place.  That's not at all surprising because providing that sort of protection is both expensive and intrusive and even the best forms of protection fail sometimes.  The best person to resist a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun, even though that protection might fail.  That, in my opinion, is the reason that "gun free zones" are ill-advised.

Back to work on a Monday

I meant to do a bunch of stuff over the weekend, mostly having to do with ApolloCon, the science fiction convention that I basically run.  However, Saturday was spent away from home and Sunday found me lounging around, when I wasn't diagnosing issues with GNU Radio, and now here it is Monday, and I didn't get anything done.

So, today I'm wrapping up loose ends.  I've asked one of the local rocket clubs if they would be interested in doing a thing for ApolloCon, and I (once again) faxed the room reservation form to Central Market so that we can hold convention committee meetings there.

I've got one or two other things to do, but we'll see if it happens today or a different day.