I just took an hour or so out from work to walk through the woods on our property with my youngest son, because he asked me.

Slashing through the untamed underbrush between the 100-foot-plus cedars and hemlocks seems like less of a chore and more of an adventure when seen through the eyes of a nine-year-old.  Each enclosure of overshadowing branches becomes a secret hide-out.  Random empty spaces between the ferns must be former camp sites of who knows what imagined enemy we are following.  Fallen logs act as Great Walls that must be scaled in order to proceed with our stealthy reconnaissance.  The old logging road, overgrown but still clearly marked by an absence of larger trees, seems like some ancient highway in the midst of a jungle.  A neighbor’s house, invisible from ours, suddenly discovered like a long-forgotten castle.

Finally, we re-emerge from the forest and step into our back yard.  My son hops on his bike and rides around the house, while I return to my keyboard.

This is the point in the post where I’m supposed to say something profound about the joys of fatherhood or the need to take time to enjoy life before it passes you by.  Truth is, I feel a little pang of regret that I didn’t take more breaks like this with my two older sons who are now grown and living in another state.  But I wasn’t really into being a father back then.  Heck, I’m not really into it now a lot of the time, either — but I do try harder to make more time for them.  And sometimes, it’s magic.

He’s off about his business now without so much as a “bye” or “thanks, Dad.”  I hope it meant as much to him as it did to me.

One Pound Sterling is 100 pence.  I figured that for hitting the century mark I needed something self-referential.

Never underestimate the power of a fine wine (thanks, Roanna).

Roxzen digs up two different favicon creation utilities.

“Kill da wabbit….kill da wabbit…” (thanks, Bad Astronomer)

Paul collects links to some useful writing tips, as well as the origin of everyday punctuation marks.

Scott Adams teaches us how to write funny (or should that be “funnily”?)

Stu steps in it, even though he might have shared some breaths with Jesus.

LOLParrots!  and the pressure of projectile penguin poop.

[GAS] guest post:  fraudsters contribute to charity.

Widget watch: Smallfire.de uses my tag cloud widget.  Witty Sparks links to the OPML blogroll widget.

Thanks for the link-love, Kent and Assaf (and here and here)!

Someone recently noted (and I’m sorry I can’t find the link) that command-line interpreters and programming languages will never go away completely, because the more complex the task, the more difficult it is to describe by pointing versus telling the computer what you want it to do.

The worst example of this that I’ve seen was a toolbar that a customer wanted added to their application several years ago in an attempt to be more “Windowsish”.  It consisted of ten buttons, labelled “0″ through “9″.  When clicked, they simulated pressing the corresponding key on the numeric keypad, for whatever input control had focus at the time.  How mouse-dependent is that?

Jeff Atwood encouraged us a few months ago to try putting down the mouse and forcing ourselves to learn keyboard shortcuts for greater productivity.  I’ve always been a command-line developer, even when working under Windows — where I usually have at least three command prompt windows open all the time.  Life pre-NT/95 was pretty bleak, though – back then you couldn’t even launch Windows programs from the command line.

The more complex the task, the more a GUI for it begins to evolve into its own language, by necessity.  The series of mouse movements and clicks required to instruct the computer become a narrative of their own, and the metaphoric associations of each action become deadened for the user — just as they do in human language.  Users have to memorize these sequences.  They are no longer intiutive.

The makers of Crystal Reports (and other Report Writer applications) find that a mouse-only interface is not sufficient for describing many complex tasks, so they add a programming facility like VBA.  In the failed attempt to create a programming tool that requires no programming, the user ends up having to learn two languages: the GUI and the tacked-on scripting language (hat-tip to apotheon for pointing that out).  I’m thinking that users might prefer doing everything in a powerful report writing DSL that can be extended by them using the same language instead.

I’m not anti-mouse.  Our friendly desk rodent works quite well for highly visual operations, like image manipulation and games.  But when the task requires communication of complex actions or information, language organized into words and sentences (tokens and commands) simply works more efficiently.  It’s more precise, and more expressive.  You don’t want to have to use a slider control to set a value that has extremely sensitive tolerances — you want to type it instead.

So how about using speech recognition instead of printed text?  In my opinion, even if all of the remaining problems with speech recognition find solutions, voice will never supplant print.  People in general, but especially geeks, tend to be more visually than aurally oriented.  We can visually process printed text faster.  We can spot mistakes in text that go in one ear and out the other. There’s a reason why our ancestors were not content with the spoken word, and invented writing.  Maybe one day our brains can be rewired such that we will be able to review and edit vocal submissions more efficiently, but for now I think visual representation of language wins hands down.

That’s where the command line (or text editor) hits the sweet spot.  We’re visual creatures, which is why we find GUI’s initially appealing.  But we need efficient representation of complex and abstract content, which is the domain of language.  When you can see the abstract symbols, you get the best of both.

Maybe one day we can eliminate the middle medium altogether, if brainwave interfaces prove usable.  You might be wondering if that would also eliminate the need for language, but if you think about if for a minute you’ll realize that it won’t — at least not for the foreseeable future.  Abstract concepts and complex procedures require a linguistic representation even within a single mind.  They are even, perhaps, a product of having developed language in the first place.

But I do wonder whether brainwave interfaces might someday be able to better communicate mental activities that strain the limits of language.  How would it be to actually feel the same emotions as someone else, without translating them in and out of poetry?  That might be a little too heavy for most folks.  Unless it could be effectively filtered, it would have the potential of undermining that most crucial support of human society: the white lie.

Now tell me what you think — in text.

Inspired by an IM chat with apotheon, who says that credit for “speed of business” belongs to Beth Blakely.

I wanted to include the speed of light as well, but it’s so great that any meaningful representation causes all the others to become meaningless.

What would you put in your own “speed of…” chart?

… sometimes you should join ‘em anyway.

After I got so steamed up at TechRepublic that I blew a blog gasket and unsubscribed from all their newsletters, Jason Hiner contacted me to tell me that some changes were afoot at TR.

You can now get to a list of individual TechRepublic blogs, instead of taking all or nothing.  It would be really nice if each item in that list had a little orange RSS button for subscribing, but at least you can click through to each blog and subscribe there.  It would also be really nice if each blog contained an RSS autodiscovery link tag, but at least they each have a “Subscribe” link near the top of the page.

Jason also mentioned that TechRepublic planned to spice up their blog soup a little, and that they were looking for writers.  He asked me if I’d be interested in writing for their new IT Consultant blog, which is shifting focus from “Project Management” to the life of an independent consultant.  Hey, I’m one of those!  Jason put me in contact with Terri Bowers to discuss details.  Always wanting to back up my critical remarks by being part of the solution, I said yes.

I feel compelled to disclose — in case you wouldn’t know — that I’ll be paid (in more than Google-juice) for posting to that blog.  I also had to sign some terms regarding the type of content that can be posted there.  Within those limits, though, I plan to keep things as fresh and edgy as a (suddenly aware of the mixed metaphor, but rushing headlong into an absurd simile anyway) finely sharpened tomato?  If I find myself becoming too constrained or the least bit phoney, I’ll just give it up (after giving sufficient notice, of course).

You can find my first post here, titled “So you want to be a consultant?”  The picture at the top of that page doesn’t look a bit like me — probably because it isn’t.  The IT Consultant blog will have multiple contributors, and Shannon Kalvar appears to get the top marquee placement.

In case you’re thinking that this means that I’ll abandon Chip’s Quips and Tips(yes, I know I didn’t post very much this week, I was on a vacation of sorts), let me assuage your fears (or dash your hopes, as the case may be).  These sites have become part of my soul (if I have one), and I plan to keep them going strong.  I’ll also be happy to do more guest posting at [Geeks are Sexy], SOB, or elsewhere — whenever that works out for everyone involved.  So, no — you can’t shut me up that easily.

We’re on the Oregon coast until Thursday.  Verizon EVDO is running at 94.4 kpbs.  Hey Verizon, CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

It’s Thursday!  You know what that means.  Or maybe you don’t:  it’s time for yet another in my series of Thursday Tales of Cats I Have Come to Respect.  OK, this is only my second such post – and since there have only been two qualifying cats in my life so far, I suppose this will be the last of the series unless something cataclysmic happens in the coming week.

Today’s featured feline had quite a different personality than the first one.  She was a gray tabby cat that wandered into my wife’s parents’ yard in northern California one day.  My wife’s father (let’s call him “Grandpa” like my kids do) gave her some food, and she never left.  She was an unassuming cat, and Grandpa christened her with the unassuming name of “Kitty”.  She became a beloved companion for Grandpa and (especially) Grandma.

I never gave the little beast much thought.  Whenever we visited, our kids would torment her by chasing her around the yard, trying to pet her.  Eventually she came to trust them and even show them affection.

One such visit was not a happy one.  Grandma was in the hospital again.  The good folks at Kaiser Permanente, who had for years dismissed her chronic pain merely by prescribing pain relievers for “nothing abnormal”, finally gave her something more conclusive: two months to live.  Then they collected their bill and sent her home to die.

We stayed with Grandma as long as we felt we could, but we had to get on with our lives — so we packed up the van, said a tearful goodbye (my wife promising to fly back by herself after she got the home front arranged), and headed up I-5.  It was late November, and the rain came down hard all the way up the valley.  My wife sat in the back seat between our children to keep the peace.  I’d glance at the rear-view mirror and see her gazing out the window through teary eyes.

After we passed Redding, the rain changed to snow.  We had chains, but it was falling so thickly that I had to slow down just to see my way.  We hadn’t gotten a very early start, we weren’t even to Mt. Shasta, and the passage into Oregon was sure to get worse before it got better.  My wife began to worry that we might get delayed so much that we’d have to stop for the night somewhere in Oregon, and maybe not be able to get back across the mountains if we received “the call.”  When we stopped for gas at Castle Rock, she suggested that we turn back and get a hotel in Redding.  I overheard one trucker say to another that the snow was falling just as heavily all the way to Yelm.

Something in me made me say, “No, let’s go all the way back.”

So after I finished filling the van’s tank and the passengers emptied theirs, we turned around.  My wife grew more apprehensive.  I flew past Redding like it was sitting still (which it was).  The further we headed south, the more my wife worried that “something” would happen before we got back there.  We made it all the way to Roseville without stopping.  I settled the kids into the hotel, while my wife drove back to her parents’ house.

Grandma died the next morning.

Her husband and her daughter (my wife) were with her when she passed.  And so was Kitty.

After that morning, Kitty wouldn’t eat.  We’d try to feed her by hand, but she wouldn’t have any of it.  Changing the venue, no luck.  Grandpa even offered her fresh meat, but she wasn’t interested.

Well, I thought, perhaps she’s grieving too — but she’ll get her appetite back.  Or perhaps she just doesn’t want to eat in or near the house.  Maybe she’s hunting somewhere else.

A few weeks after the funeral, Grandpa called.  Kitty had died.  Starved herself to death.

Regardless of your feelings about suicide, you have to admire the love or commitment to her owner that apparently led Kitty to desire death more than life without Grandma — although I wonder what that says about Grandpa.

And what about that snowstorm?  Was that just a coincidence?  Or were we looking for any sign at all to tell us what our hearts were telling us already: “turn back!”

99 bottles of beer on the wall, is both an annoying song and an interesting programming experiment.

Happy Independence Day!  That’s when we Americans remember that we once said that no global power should have the right to run the government, destroy the economy, and loot the resources of what ought to be a sovereign nation.

For the occasion Kent waxes LOLJeffersonian, and Stu corrects some common misconceptions about this day’s history.

And not everyone enjoys fireworks.

Christopher Diggins on Naive Programming:

So what motivates most programming idioms? Efficiency and safety. Now what does that have to say about a language? It indicates very clearly that the language has a problem, the most elegant or natural way to write some type of code is not the most efficient or safe. Time to start reexamining your language and compiler I’d suggest.

More here (thanks, Reg).

If they won’t trust you with their code, maybe you shouldn’t trust them with your money.

Air travel experiences that suck: figuratively and literally.

[GAS] guest posts: in which socioblogging network should you waste your time?  and hooking the skimmers.

Widget watch: myfavorites.ru uses the tag cloud widget in Russian.

Memphis was the internal codename for the Windows 98 project.  Like the city, it’s a great source of the blues.

After my treatment of 95, I thought you’d see that one coming a mile away.

Louis Gray finds my “Linkin’ Green”-inspired analogy amusing, but not a laughing matter.  I like to trade links with people, but only when it’s associated with interesting content.  That’s why I didn’t join in on the viral tags experiments.  But I’m very happy to let Kent pick up some links from me, even if he won’t pick up a coin that’s tails up.

I thought I had read it somewhere before.  Interesting exchange in the comments between diogenes and apotheon about how the series developed, and the restrospective obviousness of an idea whose time has come.

Generally, I like MyBlogLog, but I agree with Avinash that their new community messaging feature is a bigger spam factory than any owned by Hormel.

Interesting questions to consider in the static vs. dynamic typing debate (thanks, Assaf).

I’m way past slinging babies around, but OK Randy.

Lauren Turner: “advertising is a very democratic and effective way to participate in a public dialogue.”  Translation: “Money talks!“

More guest posts on [GAS]:  evidence of client-side spiders, and how to find your own personal center in the calendar.