Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").

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   faces made for programming
Monday, June 5 2006

setting: Woodland Hills, California

Today for the first time in over a week Luc drove me down to the corporate campus in Torrance where the code I've been writing will eventually reside. The work went well, partly because it was mostly a continuation of stuff I'd been doing at Luc's house. I'd yet to wade into the treacherous jungle of Ajax calls that lies at the heart of the application.
At lunchtime we walked across campus to the bigger of its two dining halls and took a seat with our trays in the dining hall. It was a little like lunch in a very fancy high school cafeteria, though one where nearly all the tables are "nerd tables." Each was surrounded by its respective motley crew of engineers and other geeky sorts from a variety of countries. In an ideal world it would have been an eye-pleasing tapestry, the United Colors of Benetton, but alas. All of them had faces made for programming, if you know what I mean. "It's not a very photogenic crowd," I observed, glancing around and making particular note of the complete absence of attractive women. "No it's not!" Luc agreed.


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