I was at the Social Security Office the other day to make a application. I need the SSN for tax purposes. While I was at the officer's desk, he needed my signature on the form. For that he offered me one of many pens from the pen stand. After I signed, I observed the white ball-point pen. On the side was embossed - INDIA. I looked around and saw that all other pens in every pen stand on every desk in that office was the same white pen. Funny, huh??
 To the young programmers of the World! The cry of the rebellion we launch here, in which we firmly implant our ideals alongside those of the Futurist painters, does not come from a little aesthetic minded clique but, on the contrary, expresses the violent desire that seethes in the veins of every creative programmer today. We want to fight to the bitter end against the fanatical, thoughtless, and purely snobbish religious faith in the past, stoked by the nefarious existence of the academic journals. We are rebelling against the sluggishly supine admiration for old operating systems, old languages, archaic standards, and against the enthusiasm for everything bug-ridden, rotting with code bloat, and eaten away by obsolescence. And we judge unjust - criminal in fact - the habitual disdain for programs whose construction is different and original, new, throbbing with life. Comrades! We declare to you that triumphant progress in the other sciences has brought about, in humanity as a whole, changes so profound as to dredge out an abyss between the past and us free creatures who are securely confident in the radiant magnificence of the future. We are nauseated by the despicable sloth that, ever since the 1970's, has let our programmers survive only through an incessant reprogramming of the glories of the past. For the professionals of other disciplines, programming is still a land of the dead, an immense Pompeii still whitening with sepulchers. But programming is being reborn, and in the wake of its political resurgence an intellectual resurgence is taking place. In the expressways of our teeming cities, the pistons of our automobiles are fired by the spark of microprocessors. In the land of the couch potatoes, computers control the appliances of our daily existence. In the fields of traditional technology one is struck today by a new elan, by lightning-bright inspirations of something utterly new. Only that programming is vital which finds its own elements in the people who use it. Our forbearers drew material for their programming from the religious atmosphere weighing heavily on their programs. We must now draw out inspiration from the tangible miracles of contemporary life, from the portable CD players that bring digital music to the masses, from the supersonic airplanes which achieve speed of flight through lightness of weight, the portable television sets which are available throughout the world and boot in less time than any computer system, from the convulsive struggle for the conquest of the unknown. Then too, how can we remain indifferent to the frenetic activity of the great cities, to the utterly new psychology of programming that takes wing only after dark, to the febrile figures of the viveur, the cocotte, the hacker, the addicts to coffee? Because we propose to play our part in the badly needed renewal of all expressions of programming, we resolutely declare war against all those programmers and against all those institutions that, however they may camouflage themselves in raiment of pseudo-modernity, remain mired in tradition, in academicism, in a repugnant mental laziness. We call on all young programmers to unleash their scorn on the whole lot of brainless canaille who in Computer Science applaud a sick-making reflorescence of spineless classicism; who in MIT praise to the skies the neurotic cultists of network-transparent window systems - a hermaphroditic archaism; who in computer companies heap financial rewards on a pedestrian and blind manual skill a la 1974; who in Berkeley adulate programming typical of pensioned-off government functionaries; and in IBM glorify a farraginous rubbish heap turned out by fossilized alchemists! In short, we rise up against the superficiality, banality, and slovenly, corner-workshop facility that makes most of the widely respected computer programmers in every region of Silicon Valley worthy, instead, of the deepest contempt. Out with you, then, bought-and-sold rewriters of hack programs! Out with you, archeologists infected with chronic necrophilia! Out, atavistic executives, you complaisant panderers! Out, gouty academics, besotted and ignorant professors! Out! Go ask the high priests of the True Cult, those guardians of Structured Programming Rules where the works of Henry Massalin are to be seen today; ask them why the official operating systems do not even recognize the existence of self modifying code; ask them where the art of User Interface is appreciated at its true worth! . . . And who takes the trouble to think about the programmers who don't have twenty years of struggles and sufferings behind them but nonetheless are preparing works destined to bring honor to the homeland? Oh no, those critics ever ready to sell themselves have very different interests to defend! The eXhibitions, the standards cartels, and the superficial and never-disinterested purchasing departments are what condemn the programming art to what is, plainly speaking prostitution! And what should we say about the "Experts"? Come, come! Let's make an end once and for all to the layerists, the extensabilitists, the toolkit mongers, the librarians - We have put up with them quite enough, with all those impotent programmers of useless software! Let us make an end also to the wasters of disk space who clutter up our machines and profane our lightning-fast memories! An end to the quick-money architecture of the jobbers of the prefabricated! An End to the common run of program decorators, the fakers of technology, the masters of software cosmetology who sell themselves, and the slovenly and thick headed "managers"! And here are our CONCLUSIONS resolute and in a nutshell. With our enthusiastic adherence to Futurism we aim: 1. To destroy the cult of the past, the obsession with all things old, academic pedantry, and formalism 2. To cast our scorn profoundly on every last form of imitation 3. To exalt every form of originality, even if foolhardy, even if extremely violent 4. To bear bravely and proudly the smear of "madness" with which they try to gag all innovators 5. To look on the lot of computer "scientists" as at one and the same time useless and dangerous 6. To rebel against the tyranny of the words "extensible" and "reusable" expressions so elastic that they can just as easily be used to demolish the art of Atkinson, Baumgart and Deutsch as well 7. To sweep out of the mental field of programming all themes and subjects already exploited 8. To render and magnify the life of today, incessantly and tumultuously transformed by science triumphant Let the dead be buried in the deepest bowels of the earth! Let the future's threshold be swept clean of mummies! Make way for the young, the violent, the headstrong! Painter Umberto Boccioni (Milan) June 15, 1991 This manifesto is based on:
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A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.
Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds -- then hurried to meet his schedule.
A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and, without stopping, continued to walk.
A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.
The one who paid the most attention was a 3-year old boy...
His mother tried to rush him, but the boy stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.
In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.
No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.
Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats averaged $100.
This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The themes were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: How do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?
One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be:
If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?
Want to be really innovative? Notice what's going on right in front of you and appreciate it.
Guys this is Chelsea.. Chelsea is going to be at the Mumbai campus for the Fall '09 semester. She is an International Business major and is good friends with Brodie. I met her at Brodie's place the other day.
On 8th of Jan 09, I had the privilege to go to three world-famous places. The first one was the UN Building in NYC. Brodie and I left the house at noon and reached in time for 2.55 pm UN Guided Tour. More about the UN tour can be found here.
After the tour was over, we rushed back to Grand Central Station to catch the sunset on the 86th floor of the Empire State Building. We had to go through a lot of security checks in the Empire (more than in the UN). But it was damn windy on the 86th floor. I couldnt hold myself in place and the air was freakingly cold. Then Brodie whispered into my ear - "This is the weather we have in Burlington". That statement made me more scared of Burlington than anything else.
But I was at the right time at the right place. It was around 4.30 pm and the sun was setting on the city skyline. I was having second thoughts whether I should remove my gloves to use the camera (the cold and wind atop was biting!) Thinking that the next time I am on the 86th floor will be atleast 5 years more. So I daringly took off my gloves and started clicking pictures of the horizon. Within a couple of minutes I lost all my sensation in my fingers. I thought that even if I dropped the camera I wouldnt feel anything. Thats why the pictures turned out all blurry. Brodie clicked a couple of pictures too.
After we left the Empire State Building, we had dinner of authentic Italian pizzas at 5.30 pm. (Yeah.. people in America has dinner by 6 in the evening.. weird..).. Then we went back to Grand Central Station to meet Brodie's mom, his brother and sister. From there, we walked down to Broadway - Minskoff Theatre. We were going to see Lion King. Brodie's dad joined us just before the play began.
So now.. let me pause a minute. Because the play put up by the actors was spellbinding. I had never seen anything like that in my life. (I hadnt seen any other play in my life, hehe..) The sound effects, the lighting effects, the stage backdrops were of the quality that only world class entertainers can put up. But more exciting and fun were the costumes.
If anyone has watched the Lion King film, then they know that the animals in the movie are lions, giraffes, hyenas, dodo birds, elephants and antelopes and what not. Believe me, the producers DID make all the costumes look the way it should. It was all very surreal. Entertainment of a lifetime. Not only for me.. even Brodie's family was trying to get tickets to the Lion King show since the past seven years.. This play was certainly a world class experience in itself.
So 8th January, 2009 was certainly high-activity day. World-class politics ( UN ) - world-class building ( Empire State Building ) - world-class entertainment ( Broadway ). What else can a mortal ask for in one day ??
Temple Bars by Sator Arepo.
"The light of the lamps of the church fell upon an assembly of black clothes and white collars, relieved here and there by tweeds, on dark motled pillars of green marble and on lugubrious canvases." (Grace - Dubliners - James Joyce)
I moved into my dorm room on the 9th of Jan. My dorm roommate Zachary Faulkner (Zach) will be here by Sunday late evening... I said hi to Dipika before I went to sleep.. The room has a heat radiator which I dont know yet how to use..!! ... (Will write tomorrow morning.. very sleepy.. 12 hours orientation.. lots of games.. i came close to winning an xbox360.. thrice.. good night.. zzzzz..)
I remember David (Brodie's dad) asking me on my second day here what are the places I would like to visit when I am with them. I said I have no such list. I just managed to say Apple Store. And that was the only place I thought I would like to visit. But being the magnanimous family that it is, the Henrys took me to places I would have never imagined. So below is the list of places I visited, in chronological order...
In Fairfield, CT
Fairfield sledging area
In New York City, NY
Wall Street
New York Stock Exchange
IBM Headquarters
Lincoln Battery
Madison Avenue
Park Avenue
Grand Central Station
Metropolitan Museum of Art
Flagship Apple Store
Plaza Hotel
Central Park
Black Box Building
Time Warner Headquarters
McGraw – Hill Headquarters
Lehman Bros. building
Times Square
Broadway
Rockefeller Center
Saks, Fifth Avenue
In Fairfield, CT
Fairfield Beach
Slumdog Millionaire
LaGuardia International Airport
In Tennessee
Memphis International Airport
Walmart superstore
The Adams’ House
The Henrys’ House
Tom Reed’s 140 acre farm
Horse stable
Best Buy superstore
Cypress park
Nashville Capitol Building
Parthenon (imitation)
Vanderbilt College
Hard Rock Café
Nashville Photo Museum
Country Music Shop
Railroad Hotel
Cold War Memorial
World War II Memorial
First House in Jackson, TN
Jackson State Park
Ken & Donna’s Home
In Fairfield, CT
Emma Harris’s Home
IMAX – Grand Canyon Film
Norwalk Maritime Aquarium
Fairfield Beach
Radioshack
Westport
In New York City, NY
United Nations Headquarters
Empire State Building
Minskoff Theatre, Broadway – Lion King
Today - 8th Jan - is the day when I will be experiencing a slight touch with world politics and world class entertainment.
Today Brodie and I are going to the UN Center downtown New York. We will spend some time lounging around. And later in the evening, we will be joining his family to watch a Broadway show "Lion King".
Now this is high living huh..
Since this blog isnt only about my being in America, I will be posting some of the most interesting photos I find on Flickr.
-- via Flickr
Fortunately Brodie lives by the beach.. I went for a walk there alone today.. The beach here is unlike the Juhu beach.. Totally deserted and clean.. And it has a fully functional refreshment room also..
Fortunately Brodie lives by the beach.. I went for a walk there alone today.. The beach here is unlike the Juhu beach.. Totally deserted and clean.. And it has a fully functional refreshment room also..
We landed at La Guardia at 6.15 pm on 31st Dec. It took us another hour-fifteen minutes to reach home in Fairfield. The winds were very very strong. The small plane in which we landed was shaking very hard.. and I had the window seat.. so I could see the wings trembling against the wind.
Brodie took me along to his old school friend Emma's home around 20 minutes away. There was also Loren who was also Brodie's old school friend, and her boyfriend too.
We went to her basement and Brodie immediately took over the banana recliner. We played some intense foosball among other things. ;)
Of course I would have if it were not for my team-matey..!!
Emma Harris.
Brodie's old friend and philosophy student. I spent New Year's Eve at her place with Brodie's other friends. The best person I have met in the US (till now) and she has the most amazing voice I ever heard.
David.
Brodie's Dad. He works in BusinessWeek as a Senior Writer, loves photography and answers all my questions about the US.
Donna.
She is David's sister.
Ken.
Donna's husband. I had amazing pizzas at their place.
Madison.
Brodie's younger sister. Being the youngest, she is giving away the presents to all from the bottom of the Christmas Tree..
Clockwise from left: Austin, Madison, Madeline Adams and Daniel Adams.
Daniel and Madeline are cousins of Austin (and Brodie's and Madison's of course).
Tim Adams.
A hospital administrator, he let me fiddle around with his Kindle.
Tom Reed.
The rich owner of the most amazing 140-acre farm in Tennessee. He owns five big dogs, five horses, five geese and more than a hundred cows on his farm. He let me drive his ATV on some on the steepest slopes on the farm.
Clockwise from left: Cheryl, Austin, Brodie, me and Madison.
Austin is great in sports, and hates vegetarian food. Madison hates Austin when he bugs her.
Mary Lou Adams.
She made the most sweetest pie I have ever had! I forgot the name though..
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