5-Character Dev Environment

Messing with my .bash_profile this afternoon, post-diving into Laravel and Git (which I’ve been doing much of the last week), I realised I could boot my entire dev environment with 5 letters. Fewer, if I wanted.

So instead of going to the Dock, clicking each of the icons, going to each and faffing around, I could at least boot them all, and set off some commands in Terminal (or ITerm2 as I’m now using).

Weirdly, until Justine gave me an evening of command-line Git learning, and wanted my .bash_profile, “Like so,” I hadn’t realised you could do stuff like that, despite amusing myself with all manner of shell scripts. Now I know what’s possible, I’m over-achieving in efficient laziness.

What’s missing is:

  • Opening multiple windows in ITerm or Terminal and running a different command in each (I don’t want to boot multiple instances of an app).
  • Setting off a menu action in an opened app, e.g. in Transmit going to my work drive.
  • Extending it to boot the environment and then a specific project, e.g. “devup laravel” would open my laravel installation in each of the apps, like opening the database in Sequel Pro; cd-ing to the laravel folder after automatic SSH-ing into my Vagrant box, and so on.

Some of these are probably uncomplicated, but this was a 30-minute experiment that turned out to be very useful.

5-character dev environment
5-character dev environment

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Why, Yes, Chinese Grinding & Boring Equipment Company Spam Email, I am Interested.

Dear Lei Zhang of Fujian Nan’an Boreway Machinery Co., Ltd. in Shuitou Town, Nan’an City, Fujian Province, China. We have never met. But you emailed me on my blog email this morning. Your email was beautiful. I sadly have no use for boring and grinding heads as I sadly have no boring or grinding equipment. I wish I did. I saw the attached photograph of bush hammer rollers and thought to myself, “This is good and useful spam. All spam should be this good and useful. Imagine if it was, I would buy things.” So, thank you, Lei Zhang, you have done the unique. In all my years of receiving spam, in all those tens or hundreds of thousands of impersonal and unwanted emails, yours is the first that’s made me say, “I wish I had a need for this, I would buy immediately.” It’s true, if I had spare cash, I’d buy some bush hammer rollers just because they look brilliant — and I’ve never even seen them before. Because of your email, I learned something new, which is what is best in life. You must think I’m being sarcastic and mocking you, but I’m not. Yours is genuinely the best unsolicited email I’ve ever received.

Bush Hammer Rollers from Fujian Nan'an Boreway Machinery Co., Ltd.

Reading: Becky Chambers — A Closed and Common Orbit

I think I’m far too hard and cynical a person to be the audience of Becky Chambers’ novels, like them though I do. I wrote at length about her debut novel, The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet and plenty of that holds true for A Closed and Common Orbit. I think this novel isn’t as successful though, perhaps because it alternates between only two characters and tried to build parallels between them that don’t really hold up.

The hard, cynic side of me also finds the general tenor of the characters flattened by a pervasive, apologetic niceness. There’s a scene early on where one of the two main characters, Pepper, at this time around ten-years old, escapes the slave scrap recycling plant she was born into and flees across the endless junkyard surface of the planet until stumbling by chance close enough to a destined-to-be-junked spacecraft she is rescued by the ship’s AI. So here’s a kid who’s obviously traumatised, dehydrated and malnourished — and we later learn the ship knows exactly what kind of planet and child this is — yet the AI spends pages before apologising for not flipping into emergency mode and doing triage, which the AI does not a little ineffectually. It’s a general over-caring niceness that ends up reading pathetic and monotonous, and grates against my “harden the fuck up” tendencies. Which may be my failure. “Always check the equipment for sensor error first.” As Iain Banks said.

Against me here, I wonder if the kind of world Chambers proposes is not a little of utopian, queer North American communities, and for people whose lives are made legible in such places, this novel might be really fulfilling to read, to see themselves represented in worlds which they yearn to live. And maybe if I’d been born 15 or 20 years later, coming of age in the LiveJournal and tumblr eras, I’d feel the same.

But I wasn’t.

But I like her novels enough to keep reading — even though I skipped a few pages out of boredom. I’d like to think she’s going to keep writing, have those glorious jumps in maturity and adroitness that happen to writers as they get a full handle on what they’re doing, cos for all my crapulous, old bitterness — which is going, “Frances, you’d fukkin hate being crew on their ship, haaate.” — I like reading her.

Becky Chambers — A Closed and Common Orbit
Becky Chambers — A Closed and Common Orbit

Bookmark Archaeology

Aside

I was cleaning out my browser bookmarks last night, first time in years, bookmarks going back to the early-’00s, thousands of them. I opened them in batches, every one, to see if I wanted to keep them. Hundreds, thousands of dead sites, no longer found, no longer existing. All that history and culture vanished as if it never was, only the link and title in my bookmarks proving they once existed, and once I deleted that …

Code Stupidity

Aside

I got sick of the tiny, Web1.0 images everywhere here, a hangover from the earliest days of supernaut, so I decided — ’cos I like visuality & pix — to make small, big. I thought it would be easy. Little did I know I also create and add to the pile of Technical Debt. So: most single images in the recent past are now huge-ified, 666px wide; recent image galleries which are not full of diverse image ratios are now evenly splitting the Number of the Beast. Older images and galleries should be retaining their previous diminutiveness, but who knows, 13 years of blog is difficult to homogenise. Mostly I got distracted with how to make portrait images not blow out of the available browser window space, which turns out to be a kinda traumatising process I didn’t achieve. Plus how to Lazy Load srcsets by preg_replacing the new WordPress caption shortcode. OMFG, Frances, WTF? All of which makes me think it might be time for yet another supernaut refresh. So much code. So many images. So much …

Reading: Becky Chambers — The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet

It’s not like the days when Charlie Jane Anders was running io9 and her monthly roundup of all things skiffy getting published pretty much guaranteed at least one book I’d stick in my reading list — I suddenly realise I’ve gone off on a tangent here — but that monthly summary has returned or reinvigorated itself, and with the arrival of The Root and Fusion under the Gawker Gizmodo Media banner, I could hope that io9 might similarly get the love it deserves and be de-subdomained from gizmodo.com, because it is one of the best sci-fi/fantasy/speculative fiction/etc websites around.

Which is a long way of saying I’m pretty sure I heard about Becky Chambers’ The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet there, probably when it came out late-2015, but didn’t put it on my Must Eventually Buy list until a few months ago. I’m going through another phase of random experimentation with new writers, and she seemed to pass my rather strict interpretation of the Bechdel Test. And now I’ve read this, and yes, she does.

It’s a light read, in the sense that unlike say, Alasdair Reynold’s Revenger, we don’t have entire space ship crews annihilated just as we’ve begun to care for them, nor do the protagonists come out the other side morally terrifying. Almost all the story takes place on their moderately sized, ramshackle construction ship as they move ever core-wards in the galaxy. And the story, the actual story from which all those things we’re told are crucial come, narrative tension and arcs, conflict, and so on, all this is more like the background staging through which they move. What’s in fact the story is a group of individuals — well, for the most part individuals — let’s just say a small mob who we get to know as they live and work their daily lives.

I was thinking it owes something to Firefly, which is one of those series that’s either hugely pivotal in people’s sci-fi evolution, or entirely baffling. A more recent comparison might be Mass Effect. Either way, it owes a lot to fan fiction set in these universes. It also owes a lot to current critical discussions on identity — a word I’m very ambivalent about at the moment, and have been trying selfhood as a rickety replacement, not sure it’s much better, but the problem is with English (and English-influenced) language and its fixation on describing the world in a highly rigid manner going back to the Enlightenment — and you can’t easily think outside language.

In a lot of science-fiction set in the future — in writers who are actively trying to work through this stuff — I find that where we are currently around language, identity, selfhood, what constitutes personhood or a person, these massive discussions we’re having amongst ourselves and fighting against others who would deny us, are carried over into a future hundreds or thousands of years away. Or maybe it’s just a future where gender neutral ze / hir is used isn’t one I really aspire to. Perhaps also because this again proposes a future in which Anglo-American culture is dominant, something interestingly that Firefly tried to modulate with its use of Chinese language. And given English has a singular they (which is used in the novel), spoken Mandarin has nǐ, Cantonese has 佢 keoi5, Persian has او (yes, I’m imagining a future where Cantonese and Persian is in the galaxy), on and on, I feel like ze / hir is kinda redundant at best (plus I’m not a fan of Kate Bernstein). So on one hand I liked the novel and Chambers for working with this, and on the other, a far future where we’re still struggling with early-21st century identity is probably not a future we’d have survived to live in. Which is maybe to say, Chambers could be a lot more deliberate in thinking these ideas through to far more interesting and developed states.

Then I realise I haven’t said much about the story itself, like a review and all, where you get familiarised with a synopsis and a bit of who’s who. A crew of multi-planetary species mostly vaguely humanoid, one who I decided looks like a sloth, another a tardigrade with chin tentacles, another like Vastra the Silurian from Doctor Who, another who reminds me of Jewel the mechanic from Firefly, a ship artificial intelligence like Cortana from Halo (or pretty much any recent sci-fi with a ship A.I.); a hyperspace ship like a well-loved junkyard with modules and sections bolted on, one of which is a garden and kitchen, dining, hanging out area; the lives and relationships of this crew I both could imagine hanging out with and find their lack of boundaries a little off-putting. That’s not a review. You can find those everywhere. So, yes, despite my truculence, I read it and enjoyed it, enough I’ll read the sequel / offshoot A Closed and Common Orbit.

Becky Chambers — The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet
Becky Chambers — The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet

A Year Of My Heart

A year ago, I decided to get all analytic on my training. Mainly I just like tech and pretty representations of data. So I bought a heart rate sensor. And now it’s been a year of me using it almost every time I train. Which means I can look at a year in the life of Frances training, with all the … whatever that reveals.

What does it reveal, Frances?

Well, other Frances. I trained 156 times — that I recorded, let’s say 170 because I pretty much did not train without it unless I forgot either sensor or phone. For a total of 190 hours — there’d be a few more in that for the times my phone battery died. For a measly distance of 1481 kilometres — of actual training rides, not including cross-town, Kreuzberg-Wedding type stuff, so maybe double that at least, no wonder I spend so much on my bike and it feels like it’s constantly in need of repair. Hey, just like me! (Wow, there’s a realisation, right there.) About 1/3 of that was ballet, another third cycling (mostly road at the moment, but some cyclocross), 1/6 bouldering, and the remaining 1/6th a mix of yoga and core training.

Oh, and supposedly I burned around 121,000 calories, which is about 60 days of eating 2000 calories a day. I’m not really convinced about this. I think it’s more of an imaginary number, and not the mathematical kind.

What else? Speed, both average and top are derived from iPhone GPS. I’m not sure how much dispersion there is in this, but I suspect it can easily be 5km/h or more in either direction. My next gear purchase (after … umm … new brakes and probably new rear derailleur pulley wheels) is a speed/cadence sensor — which probably means also a proper cycling head unit instead of phone …

I seem to unintentionally train in 9-10 week blocks, then give up in despair for a couple of weeks, then, like a goldfish circling its bowl, forget all that and get right back into it. Knowing that this might be my natural rhythm though, it could make sense to train in 9 week blocks with a week off, if for nothing else than keeping my enthusiasm. Also I doubt I’ve been training like that this year, my rhythm’s all over the place.

My maximum heart rate seems to be constant around 190 (excluding the huge jumps into the 200s that were either the battery going flat, the sensor getting jostled, or actual random heart weirdness from having stupid fun training in -10º weather). I dunno, I have no context or expertise for reading anything into these figures, other than I seem to like training if it involves a degree of discomfort and some suffering — which I didn’t need a heart rate sensor to tell me.

So, a year of data. What to do with it? No idea! Will I keep using it? For now, yes. It’s become automatic to put it on. I don’t really use it during training, though I’d use it for cycling if I could find an iPhone mount that could hold my ancient 4S. But mostly I do it on feel, and that corresponds pretty closely to the various heart rate zones. I do do regular post-training gawks, to compare how I felt with actual data — and knowing that data across sessions gives me a bit of a feeling for where I’m at on a particular day or week. And one other thing: I train a lot less than I think.

Worth it for seeing a year of training all pretty like that? Yup!

Polar Flow and H7 Heart Rate Sensor — One Year Weekly Training Report
Polar Flow and H7 Heart Rate Sensor — One Year Weekly Training Report
Polar Flow and H7 Heart Rate Sensor — One Year Daily Training Report
Polar Flow and H7 Heart Rate Sensor — One Year Daily Training Report

Video

Field Series 1

Me messing around with mediæval art, Photoshopping it until it’s far from the 3/4 of a millennium ago of its origin. It started as a visit to the Gemäldegalerie when I decided to do closeups of some of my favourite works. This is part of the Altarretabel in drei Abteilung mit dem Gnadenstuhl, from after 1250. Last night, feeling unexpectedly inspired around midnight, I realised I could mash another few score of layers into an image I was working on six months ago, and increase the density in ways that somehow appeal to my brain and eyes and emotions. I always zoom in on these images, like there’s myriad possible paintings in each. This time I took screenshots of those, and wanting to know what they might look like animated, threw them into Final Cut X and spat out 48 seconds of video.

I was asking myself if this is art. I know art and make art, but still. Maybe they’re sketches of possibilities. I like the artefacts generated from the process. I have no control over this. I have some control in which direction to push an image, but a lot of the detail is only minimally editable. Things happen, I make decisions, other things happen, possibilities open and close, I try and steer it towards a particular satisfaction, but each individual line and gradient and tone, no, that’s the software making its own decisions based on what I ask it to do. And as always, the further I get from using software as it was intended, the more interesting it becomes to me.

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Land Speed Record

I know my new tires and wheels are mad fast, but kinda doubt I was the fastest thing on Tempelhofer Feld since the airport closed in 2008. Plus I’d have broken numerous Ordnungsamt and Straßenverkehrsbehörde regulations by laying down a solid hour of 217.6km/h — and not a tenth of a km/h faster or slower. Plus that would indeed be a land speed record for non-motor-paced bike on the flat by a huge margin. Then there’s my acceleration: zero to that in 1 second. The Porsche 918 Spyder can barely hit a hundred in twice that time. Takes me 3 seconds to slow to zero though.

Prepare for Takeoff
Prepare for Takeoff

Sandy Stone at The Future Is Unmanned: Technologies for Corrupt Feminisms

Presented by the agent of slime Virginia Barratt, and Petra Kendall, at The New Centre for Research & Practice (in Grand Rapids, Michigan, US). And, that’s Sandy Stone of The Empire Strikes Back: A Posttranssexual Manifesto. It’s gonna be awesome.

Hello all,

attached please find some information and some links to a 5 week seminar entitled “The Future is Unmanned: Technologies for Corrupt Feminisms” presented by Virginia Barratt and Petra Kendall.

Guests are:
Linda Dement, Amy Ireland, Lucca Fraser, Allucquere Roseanne Stone, Rasheedah Phillips, Francesca da Rimini, Rasheedah Phillips, Emma Wilson and others TBC or who may drop in.

The first session is on Feb 26th with a round table discussion with special guest Sandy Stone. We are super excited to have Sandy guesting for us.

The times, unless otherwise stated, are 5pm-7.30pm EST

Here are a couple of links to information:
http://thenewcentre.org/seminars
https://www.facebook.com/events/1833885173535656

You can make enquiries or register for the event via the New Centre site.

Please share this widely with interested people.

Virginia + Petra

The Future Is Unmanned: Technologies for Corrupt Feminisms
The Future Is Unmanned: Technologies for Corrupt Feminisms