Nobody Hard-Drives Stick Anymore

The purpose of technology is progress. We all know this. With the advent of new technology, though, we have been steadily losing our abilities to perform basic functions. No one I know remembers ever having to stand up to change a channel on the television. Most of my friends cannot drive a manual transmission. Myself, I have almost totally lost the ability to perform simple arithmetic in my head; give me a long division to perform, and I will promptly cock my head like a cocker spaniel, cross my eyes, then search frantically for my trusty calculator. I realize that this ease implies relinquishing control, but, for the most part, this doesn't bother me. However, when it applies to something important--such as my pictures, files, research, and basic livelihood--I must protest. Though I am a lone voice crying out in the wilderness, I am adamantly Linux-loyal till I die.

The aforementioned tilted-head-spaniel look is usually what I get when I tell people this. Linux does, after all, have one of the worst reputations in the computer world. It is reputed to be neither user-friendly nor user-oriented in the least (though I think the genesis of this reputation can be traced back to someone with the initials B.G. or S.J.). To paraphrase Joan Jett (as I am frequently wont to do), "I don't give a damn about its bad reputation." To me, Linux is my dream car: a '65 Mustang convertible. Maybe the diesel engine pollutes the air, maybe the 5-speed transmission is loud and the clutch sticks, maybe it'll never get more than 20 MPG no matter how much highway driving I do. The reason that car is my dream car is because of the control I can no longer have over my own car, which is run by computer. The human element is still present, and I still have the delusion that man is ruling the machine.

Linux is the same way for me. Granted, we have our problems. Most recently, I remember falling into a catatonic stupor when I couldn't get the system to reload after someone had made the egregious error of putting my laptop screen down when the system was locked. But the solutions to such problems are the reasons why I love it so; for instance, in the case of the system not coming back up, we just logged in as root user, cleaned out the bug, then moved on with our lives. No calls to Dell. No staying on hold for hours on end before some poor underpaid Indian employee comes on the line to ask me if the system is plugged in. No running down to Comp USA to be belittled by the pencil-necked asshole behind the counter who acts as though I must be the product of first cousins to have made such an asinine mistake--or, worse, that I must still program in Fortran or Java (snicker snicker). Instead, I get to control my own destiny, and that of my hard drive. I can open up the hood and tinker till it's fixed. I can do something active in the face of the imminent demise of all I've worked for. I can lay my own loving hands on my baby and make him all better. And that is something Windows or Mac could never offer.

Understand, I know full well that this desire to tinker is not for everybody. My parents, off the top of my head, would sooner perform their own dental work than try to fix a crashed hard drive themselves. All I ask is for acceptance. Just as I understand their reticence to log in as administrator and quite possibly wreak havoc on the interior workings of their computer for the sake of recovering their latest FreeCell escapade, I ask others' understanding that I will do just that to recover the results of the simulation it just took me 3 hours to run (and 6 years to write). Instead, I tend to find people looking at me when I tell them I use Linux as though I had just said I take baths in cling peaches: "But, for God's sake, WHY?!?!" their perplexed stares say, as they inch away from me, lest they catch the desire to do the same. This is the same look I get from people when I tell them of my preference to drive a stick, rather than automatic, even in my beloved hometown of San Francisco (rumored to be Spanish for "I just burned out my clutch"). And so I proffer this introductory column as an explanation, nay, a plea for understanding.

Linux may well not be for everyone. Hell, I even know people who don't like coffee. Fine. All I ask is for others to steel themselves when I tell them this, and not to immediately jump to the conclusion that I either live for gaming, web design, to marry an Elvish princess, or be a Level 50 Paladin with a +2 Broadsword. I merely love the idea of turning it on, popping the clutch, and telling Bill Gates to eat my dust.

C++: A Diatribe

Wrecked 'em?! Damn near killed 'em!


And so my day begins: coffee on, computer on, segmentation fault number one, and then the cursing. When I moved into graduate school, I was excited to be introduced to new programming languages. Powerful languages. "User-friendly" languages. Languages to make my life easier and make my research flow from my feverish little fingers as quickly as it did from my feverish little brain. I introduced myself to basic Mathematica in undergrad, then onto Fortran 77 and Fortran 90. The promise was that the next step would send my programming ability into the stratosphere. The next step was C++.

It all started so innocently. C++ batted her eyelashes at me with the "Hello, world!" example code. I responded by stroking her ego with my friends, telling them how this code was much more logical to use than Fortran. C++ kept flirting with me, showing me how little header I needed to use to tell her what I wanted. She let me think she really understood me. All the scientists in my department told me it was time to commit, and that she was the right one. I did. The honeymoon promptly ended.

What I discovered was that I had committed myself to a cruel bitch. She was fickle: what was right today was wrong tomorrow...although she would never tell me directly. She'd let everything compile happily along, just as it did our first few dates. But once I tried to run it, the core dumps and segmentation faults began. Oh, the tears and the frustration: "If only you'd just tell me what you need?!" I began to think about other languages. The other scientists talked me out of it: "We know it's difficult, but you have to tough it out. We all do."

So I tough it out, through the abuse and the tears and the throwing of keyboards (well, almost). My friends try to help me by buying me shot glasses with the words "Core Dump," "Segmentation Fault," and "Oops" on them, laughing as i quickly develop a drinking problem. I discover that this is the object toward which C++ is oriented: ruling the world through their feeling of obligation toward her. It is time to stand up. It is time to walk out. It is better to be alone than be miserable.

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