Welcome, Eli writes here.
See also Imagery and his other projects.

Writing

69 posts under this tag.

Guard & Default 2
0
0
6
Aug
14

This is from Douglas Crockford’s Survey of Javascript (never program JS without your Crockford!). I thought it quirky at first, surprisingly helpful later. (Emphases added.)

The && operator is commonly called logical and. It can also be called guard. If the first operand is false, null, undefined, ”” (the empty string), or the number 0 then it returns the first operand. Otherwise, it returns the second operand. This provides a convenient way to write a null-check:

var value = p && p.name; /* The name value will
only be retrieved from p if p has a value, avoiding an error. */

The || operator is commonly called logical or. It can also be called default. If the first operand is false, null, undefined, ”” (the empty string), or the number 0, then it returns the second operand. Otherwise, it returns the first operand. This provides a convenient way to specify default values:

value = v || 10; /* Use the value of v, but if v
doesn't have a value, use 10 instead. */

Short-circuit logical operators are a well-known, simple idiom in several languages, but they can sometimes be confusing to read, specially when nested. What I want to point out here is that next time you have to go through code that uses them, try reading them as guard or default, as the case may be. You’ll grokEE them immediately, trust me.

Isn’t it striking, the power of names?

Cronica de una caida anunciada 2
0
0
6
Jul
31

Mi storyteller hermana Shmito nos narra su mas reciente patoaventuraWP:

Manoloooooo!!!

I am in pain!!!

Tengo una lesion abrasiva en la parte inferior de mi gluteo derechoooo!!!!

Deje le hago la cronica de lo sucedido:

Antes de la CaidaPues mire, sucede que aqui en Guadalajara los domingos de 8 a 2 de la tarde cierran varias calles por el centro de la ciudad y le llaman Via Recreactiva. Va mucha gente a andar en bici, caminar, correr, on en patines. Yo opte por la ultima, los patines, porque me los compre alla en Houston y los queria estrenar. Pues fuimos mi familia y yo a la mentada via recreactiva. Todo iba bien—shhht-shhht—deslizandome por las calles de cemento, hasta que llegamos a un paso a desnivel (de los que son por arriba, no los subterraneos) y pues con todo mi esfuerzo subi, y a la bajada dije ”uju! Voy a agarrar un impulsito super cool!!”. Fui estupida, lo se—inocencia quiero llamarlo. Total que iba hecha la madreeee!! Manolo, agarre muchisisisisimo impulsooo!! no me podia frenar!! Temi horrible por mi vida! Mis opciones eran, estamparme intencionalmente contra el camellon o el como barandalito de los lados (lo que era un madrazazazo seguro y una probable muerte en el intento), o seguir bajando e intentar lograrlo. Antes de la caidaAsi que segui bajando, agarrando cada vez mas y mas velocidad, temiendo cada vez mas y mas por mi vida, tratando de esquivar toda imperfeccion de la calle que pudiera causar mi caida. Todo iba bien, casi lo logro Manolo!! Cuando inesperadamente me di cuenta que justo cuando se termina la bajada, se termina tambien el cementito bonito y empieza un asfalto horrible lleno de pequeñas y letales piedritas e inumerables baches (imperceptibles a los carros y bicicletas, pero la pesadilla de cualquier patinador). Pero a esas alturas era muy tarde para intentar hacer algo. Asi que iba yo con todo el impulso de la bajada… llegue al asfalto… y sucedio lo inevitable… cai Manoloooo!!! Fue horribleeeeeeeeeeeee!! Me fui como de lado, raro… porque cai con mi mano derecha apoyada (ahora raspada) y con mi trasero-pierna derechos (raspadisimos). No me podia levantar Manolooo!!! Barandalito del overpass de Mariano Otero sobre Lazaro CardenasMi piernita temblabaaaaa! Pero unas señoras se apiadaron de mi y me ayudaron a levantarme, y como no habia desayunado nada, como que del susto y todo me empeze a marear. Pero bueno, me recupere y segui patinando, ya no me quedaba de otra. Me dolia mi pierna en el lugar del golpe, pero no habia baños ni nada donde me pudiera ver. Asi que segui como por una hora y media mas, hasta que terminamos nuestro recorrido en un restaurante para desayunar. Para esto ya traia super super hinchada mi piernita en esa areaaa!! Cuando entre al baño a verme… Santa madree Manoloo!! Me asuste!! Se ve horriblee, es como una gran quemada, mezclada con raspada, mezclada con el aporreamiento del sentonazo!! Se ve super super feo, y duele aun peor!!!

Llegando a mi casa me iba a bañar, pero me quede dormida y despues de como 8 horas me desperte. me lave y #$$%&x%x madre, me dolio hasta el alma, pero bueno, ya esta limpito ahi.

Ahora solo tendre que esperar como 1 año de aqui a que sane esa horrible herida.

Bueno, esa es mi historia. Se la platico esperando que se divierta un rato a expensas de mi sufrimiento.

Today's Reading: A refutation of socialism in 101 words 2
0
0
6
Jul
24

A saint said “Let the perfect city rise.
Here needs no long debate on subtleties,
Means, end,
Let us intend
That all be clothed and fed; while one remains
Hungry our quarreling but mocks his pains.
So all will labor to the good
In one phalanx of brotherhood.”

A man cried out “I know the truth, I, I,
Perfect and whole. He who denies
My vision is a madman or a fool
Or seeks some base advantage in his lies.
All peoples are a tool that fits my hand
Cutting you each and all
Into my plan.”

They were one man.

David Friedman, A Saint Said

the old freak flag 2
0
0
6
Jul
22

It’s times like these that I wish I was my married-with-children sister, a maker of muffins or perhaps an elementary-school nurse. It’s not that I’m not proud of my book [The Straight Girl’s Guide to Sleeping with Chicks], or that I’ve become un-enamored with the path I’ve chosen—it’s just that every once in a while, lugging the old freak flag around gets a bit overwhelming. And although I was pretty much wrapped in the flag at birth, this whole sex thing has me flying it at full mast all the time.

Jen Sincero, On being a Sexmonger

Today's Reading: The Penfield mood organ 2
0
0
6
Jun
20

  • 382: emotional dettachment
  • 481: “awareness of the manifold possibilities open to me in the future” (personal favorite)
  • 888: “the desire to watch TV, no matter what’s on it”
  • 3: the desire to want to dial the the Penfield mood organ (interestingly, this emotion has a very low number, suggesting it’s a basic, heavily-relied-upon one)
  • 594: “pleased acknowledgment of husband’s superior wisdom in all matters”
  • unknown 1: “a creative and fresh attitude toward his job”
  • unknown 2: “ecstatic sexual bliss”
  • unknown 3: “despair”
  • unknown 4: “businesslike professional attitude”
  • unknown 5: “self-accusatory depression”

The Penfield mood organ is a wonderfully original invention but what’s even most admirable is the masterful introduction to it Philip Dick pulls off: those 1,300 words are dense and microcapsuled enough to be able to stand alone as a great short story.

Today's Reading: A Dream So Real 2
0
0
6
May
04

I’m absolutely fascinated reading Daniel H. Pink’s A Whole New Mind (I’ve just read over half of it) and this is a droll ultra-short story (mini-saga he calls them) I found there:

Staying overnight with friends, his sleep was disturbed by a vivid dream: a thief broke in, stole everything in the flat—then carefully replaced every single item with an exact replica.

“It felt so real,” he told his friends in the morning.

Horrified, uncomprehending, they replied, “But who are you?”
A Dream So Real By Patrick Forsyth, Maldon, United Kingdom

Star
I'm going to marry you 2
0
0
6
Apr
20

The subject of the U.S.-Mexico migration (the biggest in the world, one hears) is everywhere right now. But unfortunately, almost all one always hears is pessimism, fear, nationalism, and prejudice. Most people don’t realize there’s something new and wonderful emerging. It’s a shame one doesn’t hear more often from Richard Rodriguez, a profoundly polemical Mexican-American writer. In his books, his essays, and his interviews he reinvents the concept of being Mexican. He lies about it, of course (he is the first to acknowledge it), but his is a fiction that describes me, his is a fiction I want to believe in.

You’ll have to excuse me but I’ve never felt as a victim of the US, I am American! I’ve been devouring the US all my life! But then again, that’s just weird old me—always suffering from multiple-nationality-disorder, from dislocation (I’m of the web! How could it be otherwise? “My kingdom is not of this world”); perpetually naive, perpetually “falling in love with cultures not my own”, perpetually imbued with the “arrogance” that “the individual is in control of the culture.”

I’ve compiled here a long list of quotations from several of Rodriguez’s interviews and articles. I tried to stick with the topic of migration but I did a lousy job at that, this man is too interesting.

Destruccion Linguistica 2
0
0
6
Mar
16

En ficcion, el primer paso para crear destruccion digna de ese nombre es describir algo tan bello que duela destruirlo. Si quieres un divorcio realmente tragico y amargo, muestra primero lo feliz e idilico que fue el noviazgo. Para que que duela la caida, vuela alto. No duele el vacio, duele el recuerdo de lo que alguna vez hubo, la superposicion.

Es por eso que creo que el prefijo “des” (y su equivalente en otros diomas) es la forma suprema del lenguaje para expresar destruccion. Sad no lastima, no puede, lo mismo que unhappy, que insinua felicidad solo para arrebatarla. Existe algo mas triste que el desamor, la desesperanza, el desencanto, la desilusion, el desamparo?

I need your arms to hold me now.
The nights are so unkind,
bring back those nights when I held you beside me…

Unbreak my heart.
Say you’ll love me again.
Undo this hurt that you caused,
when you walked out the door
and walked out of my life.
Uncry these tears,
I cried so many nights.
Unbreak my heart.

Unbreak My Heart, Toni Braxton

Nietzsche 2
0
0
6
Mar
09

I know my fate. One day my name will be associated with the memory of something tremendous—a crisis without equal on earth, the most profound collision of conscience, a decision that was conjured up against everything that had been believed, demanded, hallowed so far. I am no man, I am dynamite.
Ecce Homo: Why I am a Fatality by Friedrich Nietzsche

I have got to read Nietzsche one of these days.