Will Knott

I have an expensive paperweight; a dead netbook. Dead is really the wrong word. The netbook itself is fine.

What happened is I plugged the netbook in to the sockets on the train on my way to the dot conf, and a little fuse somewhere in the charger blew.

An irreplaceable fuse it seems.

And a charger that Dell refuses to sell me a replacement for. Despite the fact that their current power adapter is identical, which is how it got its final recharge.

Fortunately that charge meant I could do a final complete backup.

It also means I haven’t been able to use it much since. Now this is you standard old underpowered netbook. Its hard disc is only 16gb. But I loved it. With its matching 3G dongle it had the convenience and connectivity for so much.

I didn’t realise just how much I used it until I couldn’t. There is a replacement generic charger somewhere in the post. And for the foreseeable future I can’t afford to replace it.

This is, however my first attempt to use WordPress for Android to do an update.

It sort of works. Links, while available are out of the question. My fat fingers can’t select a phrase finely enough. (If you’re listening android, can I have forward AND backward delete ).

Yes I have more to write, but I’ll need a proper keyboard, like the one on my netbook.

Hopefully later,
Will

Its been a while since I’ve been here.

And how many things have changed.

This is a personal blog, just saying. That means, to me, that I blog because I feel like blogging. But when life offers you options that make blogging hard to do, it makes blogging hard to do. Simply put, I’m not too sure what to put here.

Anything that stops the merry-go-round of a need to write will stop it. Part of this is of course that I write on Culch.ie and I’m doing some work for WRF2.com. And part of it is that this particular itch hasn’t needed scratching.

I haven’t even been photo-blogging (most of the photos  taken over the last few months were either for relations (and not to be disseminated beyond cousins) or for friends to put on Facebook (usually under their accounts).

But the itch is returning. There will be cross postings (of course) , but expect to see this blog rise up.

Part of it is, its Summer. I feel a little bit better. My life is still in a state where I don’t want to write about it, but I’m looking around more. Feel like writing more. Getting my fngers to write for me anyway.

There will be shuffling. But I think this blog is going around once more.

I’m not the type to fill in those “what type of X are you” surveys, but when Sean McNamara wrote about his programmer personality type I thought I’d give it a shot. The output is similar to the Myers-Briggs Personality Test but I think the questions are a little too simplistic.

Anyway here are the results of my programmer personality test.

Your programmer personality type is:

DLTB

You’re a Doer.
You are very quick at getting tasks done. You believe the outcome is the most important part of a task and the faster you can reach that outcome the better. After all, time is money.

–Will here. The alternative to a doer is the planner. I will plan but sometimes a prototype is needed to make sure that you are doing the right thing. Personally I’d do after I make sure the requirements are in place. And that’s just the prototype that’s willing to be changed. I suspect I’m right on the edge of the two states in this case.

You like coding at a Low level.
You’re from the old school of programming and believe that you should have an intimate relationship with the computer. You don’t mind juggling registers around and spending hours getting a 5% performance increase in an algorithm.

– I’m comfortable with high level coding and scripting but that last 5% is a bit on the mark. There is an old quote which goes “Art is never finished, its just abandoned”. The same is almost true of software. The almost is because software has a “next version”. Getting something working out there is one if the basics of rapid prototyping. Technology changes, requirements change. Having said that, there is a point when a new feature shouldn’t go in, but become a new tool. Keep an eye on that.

You work best in a Team.
A good group is better than the sum of it’s parts. The only thing better than a genius programmer is a cohesive group of genius programmers.

– I like working with people. Solo works for me when I’m deep in a function, doing that 5%. The rest of the time I like to be able to bounce ideas. Software needn’t be lonely.

Besides, I do believe in code reviews. You tend to be too close to the code to see something is missing or wrong based on the reqs. Other eyes make sense. That way you can ensure the comments match the code if nothing else, see below.

You are a liBeral programmer.
Programming is a complex task and you should use white space and comments as freely as possible to help simplify the task. We’re not writing on paper anymore so we can take up as much room as we need.

– This is a mix of a learned and an acquired taste. Write a piece of un-commented code. Leave it alone for six months (or six days). Then come back and look at it. Unless you’ve written very accurate function names and variable names, the code will take a while to sink in. Its better explaining in the code (as comments) what you want it to do, in case someone else thinks its meant to do different, and how it works. Its the team programming thing mixed with the big bus theory (which roughly goes as “Splat! Oh noes, that’s the only one who can fix the code”.) And remember to change the description if you change the functionality of the code.

Its also that if you are indispensable, you can’t be promoted.

If you are a coder, or a tech person who has to write at least one script, give the test a shot yourself.

When my grandmother died the family decided to sell her house. At the back of a wardrobe they found an old photograph slowly fading away. The photo was scanned and restored and copies, both electronic and physical were handed around the family. That photo was a family portrait taken in 1910. Thanks to the release of the 1911 census data I am currently looking at the signature of my great-grandmother and the rest of the family in that shot.

By the way, we have no record as to who took the photo almost 100 years ago.
Well almost. My great-grandfather died between the taking of the photo and the census, however it is my great-grandmother who is the head of the household and not her brother-in-law who is also in the house.

Staring at her signature suddenly made that photo come to life. You see, with the exception of the baby on her knee (my grandfather) I never met the people in the photo, however I can see element of her in my aunts and cousins. Seeing how the family changed. How they lived after that photo made this old image come to life.

A similar reaction happened when I tracked down the other side of the family. Something my father must have done, and some day I’ll figure out where he put his archives of the Knott family back to the 12th Century. Seeing proof of life of my own bloodline means I’m seeing elements of my history I never thought of.

Having said that, while the documents make my past more real, I know my history. I knew that my mum’s side were blacksmiths (the long disused forge was later converted to a kitchen, and I used to play with the inbuilt bellows) and I knew that dad’s side were farmers. However both houses have changed in the course of my lifetime. One renovated (twice, the forge is now the living room of the new owners home) and one destroyed. For the next generation, this will be the main record of the family past.

The families were very different. One one side was a widow shortly after 11 years of marriage, working as a seamstress raising the three surviving children of the seven who survived childbirth (no record of those stillborn) while the Knott’s raised nine of nine born alive and after 33 years of marriage were in the house with two adult sons (interestingly listed as being “domestics”, a category presumed for females). Yet despite their differences, the cursive style of writing are amazingly similar. That and the fact that every over the age of four was listed as being able to read and write.

You know the swooping style of the Coca-Cola logo or the Arthur Guinness signature? Well those swoops are there for every capital letter. The expansive swirls of the lead in and lead out “W” of Will and widow. The two families were many miles apart, but the learned writing style is nearly the same throughout the country. Redmum has reproduced her ancestor’s census form and you can see the writing style there. I’m not reproducing mine. I’m keeping some
secrets. After all a census search for “William Knott” shows quite a few results spread through the country. But even checking out the neighbours show fingerprints of a writing style which died out a long time ago here.

I would put money on the guess that I’m related, somehow, to all of them.

Something else of interest is that neither side admitted to being able to speak Irish. Was it a political thing then?

Jason Roe is doing it again.

I mentioned one of his BTW (Blogger, Tweet-up, Whatever) events before, and I think this s his fourth.

The idea is that us lot shouldn’t only communicate behind screens, since Ireland isn’t that big a place. So meet up and actually hold someones hand. Or at least give a real wave rather than a “*wave*”

The new BTW is going to be in the Kudos bar is the Clarion Hotel in the ISFC, Dublin on September 3rd at 7pm. That’s room for 150 people.

Register on his site, then come over and say “hello” in person.

Will

and nearly took mum with it.

While in the queue for the car park to go to the Cork City part of the World Wide photowalk I got a phone call.

It was Mum’s neighbours.

The television at Mum’s had caught fire and she wanted me to get home as fast as I could. I did.

No one died, the damage isn’t that bad, but she’s declaring that she doesn’t want a replacement television (I expect that to last a week when soaps withdrawal kick in). After all, the electronic babysitter, the smiling entertainer in the corner had attacked.

On Saturday afternoon she plugged it in. And there was a crackle and  little puff of smoke, like a cigarette in the corner. She plugged it out. Still smoke.

She left the room to ring the neighbours and open the front door. When she returned there was a plume of black smoke rising.

Highly toxic black smoke.

I think at this point one of the neighbours rush in, fortunately wearing fireproof gloves (he has no memory of putting them on, on moment he got the phone call, the next he was coming in Mums door wearing them). He picked up the TV and tried to run out of the house with it. He would have succeeded if Mum (who I should point out is on crutches) decided to lead the way.

Slowly lead the way while a lump of toxic materials plumed and melted behind her.

At the doorway the neighbour manager to get her to turn towards the stairs, and get the TV out of the house just as it got past the smoking part and decided to head straight for the flaming finale.

A second or two later it was flaming on the front lawn.

Then he turned back. You see, melting plastic was igniting the papers Mum had around the TV. And the table it was sitting on was starting to go up. And the smoke (at least) has licking the gas boiler directly above the television.

Anyway, he put put the papers and books. There melting discs (the DVD player looks OK, but we can’t tell hat the heat did to it yet), a smoldering radio and darkened walls show how localised and high the heat was for a little while.

Scorched curtains are dumped, and the coats with melted holes at the end of the stairs are awaiting assessment.

The house still has a twinge of toxic black smoke in the air. Lumps of melted black plastic show the progress of the equipment out of the house.

Under the tree sits a partially melted TV surrounded most of the desk it once sat on.

So Mum is alive and as well as she was on Friday. Except for a little come down from the adrenaline. And she has a new lease of tidying up. Five bags of newspapers and magazines went to the recycle centre on Sunday.

One small bag of books came back. (Shouldn’t have looked, but a cookbook and a book on censorship in Ireland returned from the dump along with a USB extension cable. Well it is recycling).

I’m unplugging a lot more equipment now. And I’m spared from the soaps.

I’ll give it a week until she starts looking for a replacement. I just wonder if I can talk her in to making a wheelchair friendly kitchen for herself.

take care,
Will

I listen to a lot of podcasts. However I don’t use an iPod (or their ilk). I end up using the cheaper variety as damage is easier to cry over when you’re not that much out of pocket.

This time I think the player is going to the shop. The new player keeps resetting and corrupting its file system. First time I lost 3 weeks of podcasts.

Harried recovery routines were initiated, but to little avail (fortunately I could remember some of the sources).

But it sorts of liberating. I lost my backlog. With the exception of “Security Now” I haven’t gone to great lengths to re-download the lost files.

Admittedly I still have a backlog, but the numbers are manageable now. Its like clearing out an inbox.

Of course, the 4 months worth of music reviews weren’t lost. Still have to do that. Now you know why I listen to podcasts for pleasure.

The play is still going back to the shop.
Will

I’m having (OK getting) a hard time getting out on the bike. So I thought “let’s try a more organised approach”. I tried out for the Track Cycling Ireland Open Day in order to get accreditation and try out track cycling properly.

To begin with track bikes are different to road bikes. Imagine a standard road racing bike. Then remove all the brakes and gears. It turns out that a track cycling bike is a fixed gear bike. Namely there is only one gear, and no freewheel. To go faster, you pedal faster, to slow down, you slow down pedaling. To stop in a hurry… well trying to back pedal is an interesting thing to do once you have a bit of speed built up. Its a different mindset to standard road cycling.

The truly weird part of being on the track; once you’ve picked up speed, you feels like you’re playing a racing game with the sound down. It might be me, but there is a slight disconnect between your legs motoring away, and your view of an empty track.

The velodrome on Sundrive Road in Crumlin is interesting too. Its an outdoor track in the middle of a park. Apparently during training you can get spectators hoping for a crash.

Its been upgraded, but since its an outdoor track, and track cycling is a high speed event played out of very thin pieces of rubber, if it starts raining heavily it becomes a dangerous practice.

About halfway through the accreditation, it started raining heavily. So I’ve not got the paperwork. yet.

The season starts properly in May, and I’ll have to try to finish things off on May 11. A bit like Tog, this is something I want to do.

And maybe try out the legs in a few open championships.

I can dream.

Will

Its been quite quiet here.

Too quiet.

I have stuff I want to post, odd convergences between US military contracts and MS prototype products, truly weird comics, stuff like that.

However I’m tired. In January I moved to a new job in an old city. A move back to a bunch of old friends and new. To Dublin with the chance of doing more stuff. Moving back in with family.

Some of those things are being done, most aren’t.

Three months later, and I’m sleepwalking through the day. Waking-up is hard to do. Time that I should spend studying is not happening. I’ve even ended up adsorbing Eastender’s plots by osmosis, and I don’t watch the show.

I’m tired. I find it hard to get comfortable, and the moment I do; I’m out like a light.

Any ideas on escaping and getting the head down?

Will

Before you go to a Twestival, how should you keep an eye out for your friends off Twitter? Well, why not wear your Twitter friends? (yes that does sound like a very bad superhero team).

Wear their faces on your chest. (eewww) OK, pictures of their faces. Better? Or have their mug on your mug.

Walter Higgins at Sxoop (pronounced Skoop, or Scoop) is a image manipulation software developer for a a while now. The headlined Pixenate, an online photo editor, is integrated on many sites worldwide. He also has a history of making image manipulation tools for Twitter. He’s responsible for all the Santa hats this Christmas, and he’s brought out something new, the Twitter Mosaic.

You tell it your Twitter user name (no need for a password) and it generates a mosaic of all your twitter friends or followers. A big image. This can be turned into Mugs, T-Shirts and Bags.

All of this is made possible because of Web2.0 and the philosophy of open APIs (both Twitter’s and Zazzle’s). What has been done recently at http://sxoop.com/twitter/ simply wouldn’t have been possible a few short years ago. Needless to say, these APIs are being battered at the moment. Walter has more details on how to get things running quickly too and the end products seem to be reviewed very well.

So you can create a physical social (media) object and drink to the health of your fellow Tweeters from a Twitter Mosaic mug  (hopefully full of  clean water thanks to Charity:Water) and wear your friends in public.

The Twitter Mosaic is indeed the beneficiary of a Tuesday Push, so soon after demoing it at the Cork Open Coffee Club. And yes I got to know Walter through the Open Coffee movement. However its a cool idea, a great set of products and it since to see someone in Ireland making money in there times. And making money while Twitter is still trying out how.

take care,

Will Knott

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• Sxoop Technologies turn a buck on Twitter (patphelan.net)
• Tuesday Push was Sxoop (web2ireland.org)
• Twitter Mosaic: Using the long tail to make money from Twitter (antonmannering.com)
• My Twitter Mug is here – Merry Christmas to me! (u-g-h.com)
• Tuesday Push: Twitter Mosaic from Sxoop Technologies (ewritecork.com)
• Push it: Twitter Mosaic from Sxoop Technologies (cjwriting.com)

Get your twitter mosaic here.