Software, and a little more...

Day 10

2011-11-19T00:45:00.001-08:00

Again, I am sitting by the window watching the Ocean (or is it a Sea, what's the difference anyways?) across the street. My grandmother is asleep and it is very quiet in here. It must be close to midnight. There are a few people sitting by the boardwalk watching the sea. A car passes by every so often, but otherwise it's very quiet. I like writing when it's quiet, or rather, I should say, when it is quiet I like writing.

Yesterday morning I took a cab to my uncle's house. He and my aunt were working, but my cousin was there. She wasn't expecting me, and so was surprised to see me when she answered the door. She didn't look like she had just woken up, but her clothes suggested it had been recently. She was wearing light pyjama pants and a white t-shirt. Her tall, slim body looked beautiful in the morning light. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail as usual. She offered me a glass of lemonade and we went out to the patio. It's a nice patio, longer than it is wide, with a mango tree at the back. We sat together side by side and didn't talk for a while. I had always wished I had a sister, and though I don't feel the “family” connection yet, I really wish it could feel like it.

“Did you like coming out the other night?” she asked breaking the silence

“Yes I did. Great place. I liked the roof”

“We usually like going up there, you can relax and the music is not so loud up there.”

“Yeah, and the view is not so bad.” - I said

“I guess. Though I don't think I pay attention to that. We just go there to escape”

“Escape from what?”

“Everything.”

I nodded and we grew quiet again for a moment.

“I have an escape place too.”

“Yeah? What is it like?”

“It's a junk yard.”

She looked at me and burst out laughing. My cheeks started to turn red and I could feel them burn up.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh like that. A junk yard really? Why?”

“I don't know, it's usually quiet there. Plus I like the possibilities of finding something amazing amongst the junk and scrap material.” I said.

“And what do you do when you are there?”

“I don't know. Browse through the junk, sit and think about school, or just relax and look at the clouds.”

“Why what do you do at your hideout?”

“Like I said. Just escape. Listen to music, have a little drink. Sometimes we even smoke a bit of the whacky green.”

“What? Pot?” - the last word I almost whispered

“Yeah, why you've never tried?” she asked smiling

“I have, but I am not big on it. But wait, isn't that super illegal here. Wouldn't you go away for a long time if you get caught?”

“I'd rather not think about that. I just like the experience. And I'm no junky, I do it maybe once a month.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don't know. I thought you'd be different. Like more uptight or just less cool in general. But you are pretty cool.” I said without being sure if I had said it because I really thought she was cool, or because she had just mentioned that she smoked pot. I hope it was the former.

“Does anyone know?”

“Does any one know what?”

"That you smoke pot?"

"Anybody like who, friends?"

“I don't know like anybody in the family”

“No! Are you insane!?” - she jumped up in shock

We grew quiet again for a while just sitting by side on the patio bench enjoying the midday breeze.

“Do you have any pictures of Raul?” - I asked breaking the silence

“You mean grandpa?” she asked twisting her face in confusion

“Yeah”

“Then why didn't you just say that?”

“I never met him. Didn't feel right.” I replied.

She went inside the house and came back with a few albums of pictures. I saw my grandfather when he was young, and then later when he was old. I had seen some pictures back home, but we didn't have these many. I saw pictures of when he still owned the small family farm. He looked very young and strong then. I wish I had met him. Unfortunately he past away before I was born. In one picture, which my cousin kept browsing the albums until she found it, he is operating a tractor. According to my cousin the tractor still exists. Apparently it was kept for years where the mango tree now stands. It was rusting and broken down so my aunt made my uncle get rid of it. My cousin says he gave it to one of her friends to keep until he could put it back together. That's apparently a project my uncle has had for a few years now but it hasn't gotten very far. She promised to take me to see it.

We spent all afternoon going through pictures and talking about family members I didn't know. I find it strange that I feel like an outsider with most of my family, having had almost no contact with them. But with my cousin I just feel close. I can't wait to go see the tractor with her and hear of all the stories about my grandpa Raul, still it doesn't feel right, and the tractor.

By the by, I began reading To have and have not. Really good book.

Day 8

2011-11-12T08:05:00.000-08:00

My cousin finally came to pick me up two nights ago. I was just finishing my dinner when she arrived. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and she was wearing cargo pants. She looked cute in a tom-boyish way.

“Hurry up” - she said, as she sat at the table across from me.

“So, are you finally going to tell me where we are going?”

“I want you to meet a couple of friends, that's all.”

The sky was overcast and the night was dark as we walked out of the building and crossed the street to the boardwalk. Below, the rocks gargled as minute waves spilled through the ancient holes and crevasses of the coastline. The sea was calm, and in the darkness of the night, it seemed endless. We walked along the boardwalk in the direction of old Havana. It was close to midnight and the streets were semi-deserted save for a few tourists here and there, and a few locals.

“So, how old are you anyways?” - I asked, since I still wasn't sure of her age.

“Eighteen. And you?”

“Seventeen.”

“I am glad you came to visit.” she said, smiling.

“How come?”

“My brothers are young, so we have little in common. And you don't look like a dork. So, I am glad we can hang out.”

“Thanks.”

When we got to old Havana we crossed the street and left the boardwalk behind us. We walked fast and made confusing turns through main streets and alleyways. I remembered a few days before when I had walked through old Havana with my uncle. This wasn't the same area. I couldn't see any tourists or shops anymore.

“So, tell me. What do you do for fun over there? You got a girl?”

“Ha, yeah I am seeing a girl but it's nothing serious. And you, you have boyfriend?”

“We are here.” She said.

We had stopped in front of a building with an enormous wooden door. The street was dark and narrow, and rows of dark balconies squeezed the sky overhead. There was not a lot going on in this side of town. She reached up and touched a loose wire to a small metal box nailed to the door frame, and somewhere in the building a bell rang. The stairway was dark and negotiating the half broken steps was a feat. A bare and tired yellow lightbulb hung from the top floor. I was starting to doubt whether coming out tonight was such a good idea . Going up, I could hear music playing very faintly. When we reached the top my cousin rang another doorbell (this one did not have loose wires), and we were quickly ushered into a very strange room.

Here we were in the middle of really old Havana, in a rundown building with broken stairs, and I found myself in a clandestine (I later found out) club. At the far wall two columns of coloured lights flashed at the beat of the music. The DJ was blasting cuban rock out of two large Harman Kardon speakers mounted on the wall. The room was filled with hazy smoke and people jumping and screaming.

“It's great isn't it!” - my cousin screamed into my ear.

“Come on I want to introduce you to people”

We went around the floor, and I shook hands with a few of her friends.

“Common lets go up, it's really loud in here!”

“Up where!” - I screamed back.

I followed her and three of her friends out of the “club” into a balcony. To my horror I realized what “up” meant. An old wooden ladder connected the balcony to the roof. Thankfully the ladder held our weight, and up we went. From the roof we could see the city stretch for miles with puddles of light scattered between mostly dark areas. In front of us, and not too far to our right the bay was visible. The light house and great spanish cannons of El Morro and La Cabaña, on the opposite shore, squeezed the great sea into the narrow mouth of the bay. The long and narrow channel extended a few hundred meters before spilling into the great belly, where a few ships bobbed up and down like the heads of Jazz musicians, to the rhythm of the sea. In the darkness of the night it was easy to forget the degeneration and destruction so noticeable during day. It was easy to see the bay as it must have been two hundred years ago when the cannons protected the entrance from pirates and corsairs, or, when commerce thrived and ships loaded and offloaded on the busy ports fueling the market. Nothing screams of energy and prosperity as well as the machinery of the markets. Without the buzz and hassles of merchants during the night preparing the shops and merchandise for the next day, the nights are quiet, but so are the days.

“Hey, are you ok?” asked my cousin, waking me up from a daze.

“Yeah, I was just looking at the bay”

“Grab a seat and come sit with us.”

We sat in the roof top and talked for awhile. Her friends were mostly curious about life in the US.

“Have you been to New York?” asked Carlos, one of her friends.

“Yup.”

“How is it? I love reading about it”

“It's my favourite city.” - I said.

“Many people like it because of the high rise buildings and the expensive stores. But I like it because it's a live city. It's hard to explain. Usually those people who love the highrises hate the dirty subways and suburbs. But I think that in order to love New York City you have to love both. If everything was clean and pretty it wouldn't be real. You need a little of the dark side if you want to have culture.”

“I like that” said Miguel.

“It's like, without witches, even fairy tales are dull. I love walking on Queens at night when shop owners are organizing their merchandize in the shop basements. These are the basements that open on the sidewalk as you see on the movies. The same as it used to be 60 years ago. Some areas are dangerous and some areas are not, but it's that thrill of the night together with the glamour and buzz of the day that makes New York city the greatest city in the world.”

“I can't wait to see it.” - said Carlos

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I wish I could see it, that's all.”

“What do you think of La Havana?” I asked him

“Man, this whole thing is fucked. Look at it. It's falling apart. There is nothing to do. Everything is illegal. It's bullshit. Unless you are a tourist there is nothing here for you.”

“Why, what do you think?” - he asked me

“I think La Havana is like a raped virgin” - i said recalling what my uncle had told me. I still didn't quite get it, but I thought it sounded smart.

They all laughed and agreed although I am not sure they grasped it either.We talked and drank moonshine for a few hours until dawn began to break on the horizon. I liked my cousin's friends. They were curious people, and very relaxed. They seemed to like my company.

When I got home I saw two books on my bed: The old man and the sea and To have and have not, both by Ernest Hemingway. "Enjoy :)" read a note, on one of them.

Day 5

2011-11-04T17:07:00.000-07:00

Day 5

I haven’t written for the past three days, mainly because I haven’t had much to write about. My cousin was supposed to pick me up four nights ago and take me out, but she later called to apologize as something had come up and she couldn’t make it. I told her it was ok. She said that we would go out this week. She said I wasn’t going to be disappointed. I have to admit that I am intrigued and looking forward to it. On Monday I spent time with my grand mother. We went to the farmers’ market and bought some food for the week. The farmers’ market is different here. The fruits and vegetables look like they actually came from the farm. The potatoes are still caked with red clay, and their sizes vary greatly, although they are mostly very small. The mangoes are much bigger than the ones from back home though, oh, but they are actually much much sweeter. My grandma says the prices are very high, and she can barely afford anything. Especially when compared with what my uncle makes. I have to ask my mom about prices in LA. I wonder how expensive are these prices.

Yesterday my uncle took the day off from work and came to pick me up in his work-issued lada. It’s a very tiny car that looks like a box. I must confess that it’s actually nice to be able to say that I went out with my grandma, and that my uncle drove me around. Growing up I remember my friends going to see their grandparents, and their cousins and uncles, and I always wondered what that would be like. It’s actually very nice. We drove along the boardwalk into old Havana. When we got to “El Casco Historico”--the historic heart of Havana--he parked the car, and we went for a walk. I saw old buildings and colonial castles and fortresses. We walked through streets that were very narrow and crusted with worn cobblestones. We stopped at a small café on a side street facing “El palacio de los capitanes generales.”
“So what do you think of La Habana.” - he asked me as we sat eating.
“It’s beautiful” - I said.
“Yes it is. But you don’t think so, and you don’t have to lie.”
“I do like it” - I said, feeling my cheeks glowing red.
“You know, I am glad you came. A man should always know where he comes from. And you might have been born there, but you came from here.”
I kept eating, and we grew quite for a while. I sat eating and watching the people walking in the park across the street. Beyond the park I could see the masts of large ships floating idle on the bay.
“Do you like to read?”
“Yes I do. Very much” - I said.
“I’ll bring you a couple of books tomorrow. Hopefully it will help dim the boredom.”
“Do you like Hemingway?”
“I have heard of him, but have never read any of his stuff.” I said.
“I have read all of his stuff. You may like it. I’ll bring you a book or two.”
We finished eating, and walked to the park. There, I saw the statue of Carlos Manuel de Cespedes “El padre de la patria.”
“In 1868 he freed his slaves in order to kickoff the cuban war of Independence. He is called the Father of our Nation because he fought for our independence, and wouldn’t give up the struggle even when his son was captured.” - said my uncle admiring the monument.
“I hear that they are planning to put another statue in front of him next year.”
“Oh really?” I asked
“Yeah, a giant middle finger made of white limestone.” He said laughing as we walked off. I chuckled, and followed him. As we walked, my uncle pointed out historic buildings and statues. His love for the city was visible in his descriptions and even in gestures as he pointed here and there; he seemed to caress the silhouettes of the structures.
“Beneath the rubbles and chains, lies a beautiful city.” he said.
“La Habana is like a raped virgin.” He added, as we walked up towards “El Castillo de la Real Fuerza.”
I didn’t understand what he meant and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to ask, so we just walked. He pointed our a few more building on our way back to the car.
Even though I can’t say that I see the beauty he sees, I must admit that his enthusiasm is admirable. I think he is a great guy to love so much something that isn’t beautiful.

That was yesterday, and in a very real way it was fun. I hope I get to hang out with my uncle more.

Day 1

2011-10-28T15:27:00.000-07:00

I arrived today in La Havana after my parents decided it would be best for me to spend some time with my grandmother, and learn responsibilities--what a load. The first time I visit this country and my parents decide I should do it alone. And not to a resort, no, to a half broken apartment in the crappiest side of La Habana, or at least it seems to be, for nothing can look worse.

Six months I am supposed to spend in this place. At least I have my computer. Although, there is no internet here. I wonder if they have discovered fire. When I arrived, my grandmother was very happy to see me. I feel bad that I wasn’t as excited. It’s hard to explain, I know that she is my grandma but I have only seen her once and that was five years ago. I feel like I am in a strange place surrounded by stranger people. Earlier, I met my cousins who I had only seen in pictures. They where very happy to see me, and their mother-- my aunt by marriage--told them to hug and kiss me, and then she hugged me.
It was very awkward, and I think she is fake. How could anyone be so happy to see someone they have never met? Anyways, two of my cousins are young. I think five or four years old. The other is older. I think she is seventeen, or a year younger. Anyways, she is around my age. They stayed for about an hour, and asked about my parents and about whether I liked Cuba, even though I have only been here for five hours. I said I did, since I didn’t want to be rude.

Now I am sitting by the window and writing these notes. Maybe when I get back I’ll create a blog. I have always wanted to write and this is as good a time as any, since there is nothing to do. There is nothing good on tv. There are only like 5 channels and two of them are constantly talking about the great economic advances achieved in this island by the sacrifice and hardwork of the revolution. I must be in the shittiest part of town indeed since I don’t see any great economic signs around here.

I am sitting by the window, and I can see the Ocean that starts just across the street. From what I am told, that is the “Malecon” or boardwalk. The sea looks very blue, especially now that it's getting dark. It’s actually beautiful. Just about the only beautiful thing I can see. The neighboring houses and buildings look old, and decaying with the paint flaking or gone showing bare bricks. I cannot believe my parents have sent me here. I must find ways to entertain myself or I will go crazy. It's such a boring place. Even the light bulbs are yellow and tired. And there is nothing good on tv, what will I do without tv and internet? My cousin Elena said she would pick me up in two hours to go out. At least I won't be in this room. It's so plain!
I think I will continue writing later as my grandmother is now calling me to dinner. Rice and steak, although hardly the New York striploin kind. I will write later about my outing with my cousin. Although I don't hold high hopes for it.

The future of abovesoftware....

2011-10-21T12:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, during a company event, I was approached by a colleague whom I had not seen in a while. He mentioned that he had been reading my blog and was upset at my lack of articles. I found it interesting since it is not the first time that I had been approached by friends and colleagues, and had been accused of abandoning Above Software.

To be honest, I was not aware that so many people were reading my posts. Had I known, I probably would have written more. In any case, I have promised to write more and as such I have devised a plan on how to organize my posts here-on. I realized that there are two main categories of people that visit this blog: 1) Developers 2) Non-developers looking for something fun to read. I thought of different ways I could try and keep writing for both demographics. Here is the plan:

I will be creating 4 new categories: Announcements, Chapter-by-Chapter, OpenGL Tutorials, Every day nonsense.

In "Announcements" I will let you know of upcoming changes and news regarding the site. Chapter-by-Chapter is an experiment category I have been thinking about for quite some time. I will attempt to write a fiction story on a per-episode basis. I will be releasing each episode each Friday night.

OpenGL Tutorials will contain tutorials on OpenGL development along with sample code. Lastly Everyday nonsense will contain just that; everyday articles about things that I, and hopefully you, find interesting.

I hope you all enjoy the new changes. I am sure I'll enjoy the writing ahead.

On Steve Jobs

2011-10-06T14:48:00.000-07:00

As I regularly do on workdays, I turned my computer on early this morning and signed on to MSN messenger. Scrolling through my work contacts I noticed a ticker in the "news" section of the messenger window. It said that Steve Jobs had passed away yesterday, October 5th.

I took my hands off the keyboard, and leaned back on my chair. I took a moment, and began to try to understand what this meant. It would mean different things to different people. To those who pay no attention to technology and the evolving world, a celebrity has died. To his family, a loved one has passed away. The pain will be wholly theirs, though millions more will mourn. But, being spared the crude pain of his death, we, seekers of technology, consumers, developers, and designers, will experience the "cliche," yet romantic notion that an era has just ended.

I have often regretted not having been born in the times of the greats. I wish I had lived when the Beatles were together and John Lennon was alive. I wish I had been old enough to understand who Freddie Mercury was when as a kid I heard him sing. I wish I had been alive when Einstein published the general theory of relativity, or when Sir Isaac Newton was the president of the Royal Society. I wish I had seen Babe Ruth hit a homerun.

Alas, none of these wishes can ever come true. But, I am lucky. I was not born in the 60's. I am not a musician. I was not born in the 20s and I am not a baseball player. I am a Computer Scientist, and I was born in the 80's. Steve Jobs was the Babe Ruth of our parks, and I saw him hit homeruns.

Thank you for your genius, creativity, and everlasting perfectionism. The industry will miss you.

Arrogant or timid?

2011-02-04T20:23:00.000-08:00

I feel this is an article I ought to write. I have spent many evenings and afternoons having a few drinks and talking with friends about the fear most people have of seeming arrogant, so instead, they err on the side of timidity.

I am talking about the difficulty the general population has when having to fill a self evaluation form or when asked during a job interview to describe their strengths. It is sad to see how most of you struggle on how to say why and how you are awesome. I have been shocked by this so much that I feel I must write this to try and help you. There is this notion that acknowledging self-worth is arrogant and impolite. Instead always smile and say "Well...umm...heee...you know I like to learn, and I work really hard..., but I am not sure about clear strength, you tell me." What is sad is that many people giving these weak answers are actually really good at what they do, and they know it! But they have this idea that expressing those feelings is wrong and arrogant.

The world is pretty small and the competition is huge. If you want to succeed you better start getting noticed. And no one gets noticed by saying "ummm....i mean if you think i can...i mean i'll try...."

Being arrogant is saying "man I'm freaking awesome" all the time and wearing a shirt with your picture on it. That's being arrogant. When asked why you think you are good; that's a different story!

Imagine a road ending in an electric fence. Imagine a sign on the fence that says "Trespassers will be deemed arrogant" in red bold letters. Most days you should stay behind the fence because being arrogant, like getting electrocuted, is bad and undesirable. However, when you are asked to describe your strengths, you should picture that fence opening up and a red velvet carpet unrolling beyond. You should picture white unicorns and flowers and trumpets, and yes a guiding breeze urging you to enter the sacred zone, because now it's ok. Now, you can shine.

It is of course important to know your strengths and weaknesses. Worse than being timid and unnoticed is to boast without backing it up. When asked to rate yourself 1 to 5, and you feel that in a certain area you deserve a 5. Give yourself a 5, after all you think you are worth it. When asked to explain the high mark, you should express the reasons with examples so that whomever is questioning it may be able to understand that you are not arrogant, but that you know yourself.

There will also be a time to name your weaknesses. And again many choke and think that this will be their doom. After all aren't weaknesses bad? Let me tell you a little secret. If you didn't have weaknesses they couldn't afford you, I am sure none of you get paid enough not to have weaknesses. Weaknesses are areas to grow into, and learn from. A good company should always help you overcome your weaknesses by coaching you and giving you the chance to learn. So don't be shy about pointing out weaknesses, you will always have some. Weaknesses point to us what we do not yet know, and we will never know everything.

So, please, if I ever have to interview you, and ask you to rate yourself, don't shy away. After all, I have already told you what to say.

In the air

2010-11-28T08:28:00.000-08:00

This is not a pathetic attempt at sounding philosophical. I am currently writing this entry aboard an AirTran flight to Buffalo. I am returning home (to Toronto, I will have to drive across the border after landing in Buffalo) from a vacation in Orlando Florida. I will write more about my visits to the Magic Kingdom, Epcot, and the Kennedy Space Center later when I gather my thoughts. This entry is just my way of sharing my amusement at the fact that I am able to write this mid-air.

I remember when not so long ago making a phone call in an airplane was a luxury that cost a pretty penny, and not every airliner would carry such a convenience. Now not only can you use your own cellphone but you can get online through wifi and skype, msn, email, and carry out almost all forms of communications. Then again I am still not sure about what I am more amazed: in-flight wifi, or the fact I am flying at all. Airplanes have been around far longer than the internet itself, but I am still not sure that one is more impressive than the other.

I have a degree in computer science and work in the embedded world, and I still can't help but be amazed at the things we have been able to accomplish. I am sure if anyone in my team reads this their eyebrows would crumple in a surprised look as when I am at work I expect perfection. I expect to create the impossible, and any bug in the process bothers me until we solve it. However, when it's late at night, or when I'm flying ;), and I think about airplanes, and navigation systems, and all the great advancements in technology, I think, who cares about a little bug resulting in an off pixel the fact the screen is lit and I can push buttons drawn on it is amazing!

I have to continue this later, the person in front of me keeps banging his sit on my knees. F*** I hate flying.

Apple, Microsoft, and everything

2010-10-16T17:49:00.000-07:00

If you have to wonder what this post is about, then you have probably been living in a hole, in an island somewhere off the coast of New Mexico. In that case, then, welcome; welcome to civilization strange one. Today we are talking about Apple, the silicon one.
If you however have not been living secluded in a cave off the coast of New Mexico, then you probably know of Apple, the makers of iPod, iPhone, iPad, oh yes, and they
make computers too. It's scary, I think, that we live in a society that consumes more electronic apples than the ones that grow on trees. Lately however, it seems that Apple can do no wrong. Any product they launch is record selling, and leaves mobs of "fanboys" salivating and sleeping outside malls and stores hoping to get into the latest trend.

I have for years, to the frustration of many of my friends, been a constant critic of Apple. This year however, to the delight of most of my friends, I bought an iPhone 4. Let me set the record straight on my views on Apple, Microsoft, and "fanboys."

Fanboys:

When I say fanboys, I am speaking of the people who are die-hard apple fans without regards to any bit logic. These are the guys that will pay $1500 for a bag of flaming shit, as long as it has the Apple logo on it. I remember not long ago I was sitting in the subway on my way home, and had to listen to a fanboy secrete a greenish goo of complaints against Microsoft, and viruses, and blue screens. Fanboys love talking about blue-screens, and viruses, and windows crashing. Listen guys, these are not Microsofts faults. Trust me, Microsoft has bigger flaws that actually make sense, flaws which upon mentioning their existence, will not make you sound ignorant and stupid. Those flaws I will site later in a different section. For now I will get back to the notion of blue screens, viruses, and windows crashing.

VIRUSES: The install base that windows has and has had for 30 years is far, far, Peter-Pan's-Neverland-far, greater than Mac OS. Therefore the chances of 14 year old immature programmers been familiar with a windows environment is much greater than with Mac Os, therefore there is a greater chance of having more windows oriented viruses. Also, until relatively recently Apple had not released a SDK for coders to develop on Macs. There is another reason, Apple computers for years have been targeted more to the "artistic community" than the nerdy programming one.

Blue Screens and Windows Crashing:
Again, the install base of Microsoft Windows is so big that if you were to put the windows cds next to each other they would wrap around the Earth several hundred times. Ok, I made that up. But it is really much much greater than Mac OS. By install base, I mean amount of copies installed, but also across a very very wide number of different types of systems. Apple creates the OS but they also create the hardware (yes of course they outsource to Intel and blah, but everything is done to their spec). It's really a lot easier to cater to your own hardware than have to deal with every single company outthere that thinks they can create peripherals. As if this isn't enough, then come the programmers of the world. There are so many programmers in the world that code for windows that if you were to stand them side by side they would wrap around..ok lets not go there, but again a lot more than on Mac OS. These are not doctors in computer science mind you, these are kids that took a programming course and release code on the internet for others to download. There is so much more third party code outthere for windows compared to Mac that if you were to make an analogy of the windows available code as being a giant then the equivalent in Mac code would be a little shit pebble stuck to the side of the giant's ass cheek. So, with the wide range of hardware peripherals that windows has to support, and all the different kinds of people releasing questionable code to run on PCs it is really a miracle that Windows works at all. In fact Microsoft is pretty freaking awesome in this aspect. So please, next time you want to talk to me about Apple and Microsoft, don't bitch about windows crashing.
You can say, "for people who are not tech savvy and may go around the net downloading every little .exe they see, and clicking on every popup, Mac OS may be safer." But what you can't say is Apple is so much better than Microsoft because windows crashes. That's stupid.

Apple:

To me Apple is the greatest designer company out there. They, without argument, have the best looking products available. And have hit the nail on a few ground breaking products like iPod and the iPhone. That is undeniable. I got the iPhone because for me at the moment, there is no better smart phone. I love the apps that we can download. I love the user interface. I love the browser.
However, as a company, I have many problems with it. I don't like the Big Brotheresque way in which it runs its business. As a developer I wish I could write an app for my iPhone and release it. First, I need to buy a Mac. It doesn't suffice that I bought an iPhone. I also need to buy a Mac. Why can't I write the app on my PC? Many will say, hey they own the products and if you don't like it don't buy it. That is true, however, it doesn't make it right. I bought the phone and don't regret it because I like the "smart phone aspect" of it. But I don't like the fact that I need to buy a Mac to develop for it. I think it's a blatant money grab.
I also don't like the fact that they decide what I can and can't put on the Apple Store. Yes, fine, check if it isn't malicious code, but who cares if my app is "useless" to you. You should be able to deny an app based on whether you think it's "useful." Again, it's a totalitarian-like regime which I really don't like.

Microsoft:
It's a great "developer" company, but not design oriented in the least. By "developer" company I mean that they develop for developers first and foremost. It's really easy to develop for windows and the tools are available and mostly free. What I don't like about Microsoft is that the design seems to be an after-thought. Take windows phone 7 for example. It seems to be a great OS, and the tiles are an amazing idea with "live" data showing. But, it looks like shit. 2D squares slapped on your screen, and the titles get cropped around the edges of the screen instead of zooming out, come on guys, give it some effort.

In general, I think Microsoft Windows XP (I hate Windows 7, but this is for a later time) is a remarkable OS, and Microsoft is a really good company with really incredible products, which needs to spend a bit more time on the design aspect. Apple, is an incredible design company which needs to care more about people and really give people a choice. They are very controlling and need to step back and let the consumers make some choices with their products. When I pay so much money for a phone I don't think it should be considered "a license", it's my product, let me use it.

Country Folks

2010-10-09T20:53:00.000-07:00

I am writing this entry from a motel on Highway 26 in Blue Mountains. The thing about driving out of the city is that right about when the last building drops below the horizon, everything begins to slow down. The highway is no longer 100 km/h instead it drops down to 80 km/h. High-rises and malls with car noises and crowd chatter are replaced by corn fields and farmland with the music of birds and swinging flora. Instead of 100+ horsepower mustangs, these folks own the original 1 horse power mustangs, no oil change or gas needed, and instead of polluting the air it fertilizes the orchards.

After checking in to the motel we decided to go for a drive around the village which is approximately 15 minutes away by car. On the way to the village the traffic became very slow due to construction on the road. While I waited for the traffic to begin moving again I spotted a group of kids a few cars up the road armed with bags full of apples approaching the helpless cars. "Here we go again," I thought. "Why can't I go a full day without somebody trying to sell me something." As one of the youngsters approached my passenger window I prepared to signal to him that I wasn't interested, but just then the always benevolent and never 'arrrgghhhh' wife of mine opens the window. Fine! I fished in my pockets for a $20 to be prepared for whatever price this little creep would try to take us for. "Would you like some free apples?" asked the boy. Would I like some free apples? Are you kidding me who hands out free anything anymore, let alone free apples? In Toronto if you get offered something free it's most likely deepfried or illegal. I had to put away the 20 dollar bill in order to free my hand to be able to receive for free the very apple I did not want to buy. Who gives free apples away?

Later, on our way back from the village just off Highway 26 I saw a sign advertising honey at a good price. I pulled over and approached the little table by the side of the highway where the honey containers were. The table was in the front yard of a house whose owners I could not see anywhere. What was peculiar about this picture was that I didn't see anyone selling the honey. There, in front of me were several jars of honey and, most interestingly a topperware full of cash. Are you kidding me guys!? Really? Cash? Just lying around, no need for surveillance, or any sort of care? I must have stood in front of the table like a moron for about ten minutes trying to decode this unfamiliar situation. I kept thinking, "this is a trap man, they got snipers in the cornfields!. Touch those jars and you'll get shot. Just walk away..." Then, when I was about to get back in my car and drive the hell away, a smiling lady comes out of the house and waves at us. "Hi folks, just grab a jar and put the money in the box."
She must have read the confusion in my face for right away she said "You are from the city aren't you?"
I just could not believe that you can leave a box full of money and the product you are selling unattended, and not only not have it get stolen, but get the product to sell itself while the box swells up with more money from nice and honest customers. Mind boggling! Apparently however, this is just how business is done on this side of the country.

I love my high-rises, sport cars, and technology infested city-boy society, but it takes a few jars of self selling honey and a self guarding money box to poke a hole in our sophisticated cloud of egotistical realism, and realize that we need to preserve the country folks lest the world implode into a useless goo of materialistic bullshit

Stack Growth - Stackoverflow

2009-09-03T07:37:00.000-07:00

Stack Growth

Another question you might get is to try to figure out which way a stack grows. As we know a stack (memory region interpreted as a stack) gets allocated for each process. The stack is used to store local variables and context local to the process. Each function call in a process gets a frame inside the stack where the variables local to the functions get stored; when the function exits the frame gets freed. The stack is also used to store the address of the caller function so that the IP (instruction pointer) can jump back after exiting a function call. i.e:

From the example below (Program:) before main() jumps off into foo(), it first pushes the current address of the IP into the stack so that when foo finishes, the IP can know where to go back to in main();

In some systems the stack is said to grow up and in others it is said to grow down. What the heck does that mean? See bellow:

Memory:
0x00000004 -- -- -- --
0x00000008 -- -- -- --
0x0000000C -- -- -- --
0x00000010 -- -- -- --
...

Program:
int foo();
main();
main()-call->foo();

In a simplistic world (don't hold me to the number it's just an example) if your main()'s frame is at 0x0000000C and foo()'s frame is pushed onto the stack at 0x00000008 then the stack is said to grow down-even though in the diagram it might appear as growing up-because the addresses decrease in that direction. If foo() were to appear at 0x00000010 then the stack would grow up, or in the direction in which the addresses increase.

Code:


#include <stdio.h>

void stackTracer(int *x)
{
 int y;
 if(&y > x)
  printf("The stack grows down\n");
 else
  printf("The stack grows up\n");
}

int main()
{
 int x;
 stackTracer(&x);
 getchar();
 return 0;
}

The code works because when stackTracer is called, the main() frame had already been created in the stack, therefore stackStracker() would be pushed onto the stack after main(). If the address of a variable declared in stackTracer() is greater that the address of a variable declared in main(), that tells you that the stack is growing up as it's growing in the direction that the addresses increase.

StackOverflow

The Stack has a size that is defined even before the process begins to run. The size of the Stack is defined by the linker and can be adjusted by changing the linker flags. But once the program has been linked with the Stack size then that will remain the size of the process' stack throughout its life time. Sometimes if you are not careful, you can grow the stack (recursion anyone?) over its allowed size; and you get a stackoverflow exception.

How can you tell the size of your stack?

This program came out of a couple of minutes of spare time when a co-worker friend of mine and myself decided to overflow the stack just for fun:

Code:



#include <stdio.h>

int counter = 0;
void crasher()
{
 double array[10];
 array[0]=1;
 counter++;
 printf("Counter is at %d", counter);
 crasher();
}
int main()
{
 crasher();
 return 0;
}

Then to calculate the size of your stack do => counter (amount of times you allocated that array) * 8 bytes (the size of a double [check your system though]) * 10 (the amount of doubles in the array). Note: this will be roughly the size of your stack, to check the exact size you can always check the default for your linker or the linker flags.

Byte swizzling

2009-09-02T11:51:00.000-07:00

So, we have all heard about little endian and big endian concepts. We all know that in a little endian system the least significant byte gets stored first, or at the lowest address. In a big endian system the most gets stored in first, or at the lowest address.

So what happens if you are trying to read data that has been stored in a big endian system?

Say you have 0xDEADBEEF stored like so:

Memory:
a => DE
a+1 => AD
a+2 => BE
a+3 => EF

if you have a 32 bit pointer address pointing to a+3 the value read will be 0XEFBEADDE. In order to make sense of the value you will need to swizzle it. In other words; you will need to change the order of bytes.

Here is code which will swizzle a 32 bit value:


#include <stdio.h>
#include <string.h>
#include <stdlib.h>


#define CODETOSWIZZLE 0XEFBEADDE
int main()
{
   
   unsigned int swizzledCode = \
          ((CODETOSWIZZLE & 0x000000FF)<<24)\
          +((CODETOSWIZZLE & 0x0000FF00)<<8)\
          +((CODETOSWIZZLE & 0x00FF0000)>>8)\
          +((CODETOSWIZZLE & 0xFF000000)>>24);

   printf("Swizzled %x", swizzledCode);

   getchar();
   return 0;
}

Palindrome Test

2009-08-31T10:40:00.000-07:00

The palindrome test is very common in interviews. Here is a program that shows how to find out if a string is a palindrome.

Please note that this a simple program as in an interview not much more is expected from you. The test is not meant to commercialize your greatest palindrome rendition. We will not be buying palindrome testing software in the near future. The point of this test is to know your basic knowledge of string manipulation and algorithm generation. This program takes a string and tests whether the string is a palindrome or not. The palindrome can be one word long, or a whole sentence, and can have upper and lower case letters. Note that palindromes are not case sensitive. Also, the palindrome should ignore punctuation marks.

Please note that in my simple algorithm I am assuming that regular ASCII characters are used.

Algorithm:

1) Get string and lets call it testItem;
2) Strip all the punctuation marks, spaces, and symbols,
and store in testItemClean.
3) Reverse the testItem and store it into reverse.
4) Compare testItemClean and reverse.

To find more about palindromes please visit here .


#include <stdio.h>
#include <string.h>
#include <stdlib.h>


int main()
{
   char testItem[] = "Was it Eliot's toilet, I saw?\0";
   int i = 0;
   int currentPointer = 0;
   int cPointerClean = 0;
   int length = (strlen(testItem))-1;
   char *reverse;
   char *testItemClean;

   reverse = (char*) malloc (length*sizeof(char));
   testItemClean = (char*) malloc (length*sizeof(char));
    
   for(i=0; i<=length; i++)
   {
      /*Reversing testItem and storing stripped 
       off symbols into *reverse*/
      
      if((testItem[length-i]>=65 && testItem[length-i]<=90) \
      ||((testItem[length-i]>=97 && testItem[length-i]<=122)))
      {
           if(testItem[length-i]>65 && testItem[length-i]<90)
                 testItem[length-i] = testItem[length-i] + 32; 
           reverse[currentPointer] = testItem[length-i];
           currentPointer++;
       } 

      /*Stripping testItem off symbols and storing into 
      testItemClean*/

      if((testItem[i]>=65 && testItem[i]<=90) \
      ||((testItem[i]>=97 && testItem[i]<=122)))
      {
           if(testItem[i]>65 && testItem[i]<90)
                 testItem[i] = testItem[i] + 32; 
           testItemClean[cPointerClean] = testItem[i];
           cPointerClean++;
      }

   }
   if(!strcmp(reverse, testItemClean))
           printf("It's a palindrome");
   getchar();
}

Bit counting (how many 1's in 5 [binary])

2009-08-31T10:34:00.000-07:00

This code is simple and can be enhanced to work in more general cases. If you do end up changing any of the code and wish to post it, please feel free to do, but, do post a link back to this site.

Since so many of you have had problems in interviews regarding bit counting, I have decided to post this program. It counts the amount of 1's that there are in any 32 bit number.


#include <stdio.h>

#define BIT_MASK 0x1

int main()
{
  int number = 52;
  int i = 0;
  int counter=0;
  /*Looping for each bit in an int.*/
  for(i = 0; i < 32; i++)
  {
      /*
        RF1 -> Shift to the right by 1
        52 is 110100 in binary. 
        Bitwise AND 0 with 1 ---> 0 -> RF1
                    0 with 1 ---> 0 -> RF1
                    1 with 1 ---> 1 increase counter -> RF1
                    0 with 1 ---> 0 -> RF1
                    1 with 1 ---> 1 increase counter -> RF1
                    1 with 1 ---> 1 increase counter -> RF1
                    ...
                    It will continue 32 times except that 
                    in this case (52) the rest will be 0s.
      */
      if(number & BIT_MASK)
          counter++;
      number = number >> 1;
  }


  printf("The number of 1's in %d is: %d", number, counter);
  /* Visual Studio will close the output window very fast.
     This trick will keep it open.
  */
  getchar();

}

In Penang - Malaysia

2009-08-08T22:30:00.001-07:00

So I have been in Penang - Malaysia for the last 3 weeks. I still have one more week to go. I am here on a business trip doing some embedded software development with Intel. And that's the most I am going to say about that.

I have to tell you, I am very impressed with Penang. When I arrived three weeks ago I wasn't sure about what to expect, or better yet, I expected different things. I had just returned from a business trip to Shanghai and while I loved the city and its people, I had some trouble getting used to the food. Being from Canada I am used to a different type of Chinese food. I arrived in Shanghai a month ago looking for chicken balls and sweet and sour chicken and instead found myself ordering from menus written completely in Chinese and having to pick based on pictures; and these sometimes deceive you. I learned towards the end of my trip that the taste of food I am more accustomed to is the Hong Konk style. So, while I was impressed with the explosion of modernism in high-rise, neon light, big screen Shanghai, and very thankful to the hospitality of its people, the trip left me worried about what to expect in Malaysia.

As soon as I landed in Penang I began to notice that most signs were written in English. Then, when I arrived at The Equatorial Hotel the whole 20 hours travel time began to look like it all might have just been worth it. But the Equatorial will be a subject of another post. This is just a look over Penang. I am very glad to say that most here speaks English very well. It is very easy to get around and I need not worry about getting lost. If I do, I get a cab and the driver will understand what I am saying. And the food...The food, as Robert from Everybody love's Raymond might say, "the food is unbelievable." The melting pot of cultures in Penang makes for an excellent dish. The most common restaurants are what the locals call Hawker places. These are food stands with a number of tables and chairs shared by all the stands. You walk and order the food you like from the different stands and tell them where you are sitting, they will then find you and bring you the food. In Hawker places you can find anything from Chinese, to Indian, to Italian food. As far as the food goes, I am doing very well.

Please keep tuned as I will keep writing about my Penang experiences.

Driving north

2009-05-28T11:59:00.000-07:00

Driving north is always entertaining. It doesn't matter what the compass might be yelling; pointing the righteous finger around, if there is farmland between here and there I call it north. That is because most of the time I don't know where north is. You see, I am pretty bad at directions. I don't blame myself, really. I blame communism and the U.S. I grew up in Cuba, you see? Cuba being an underdeveloped country did not have the proper means to manufacture compasses, and the U.S-created embargo made it impossible for me to get my poor young hands on a compass. The lack of compasses at an early age -- as explained by Dr. Marc Gebrauchsanleitung in Compass in early childhood-- rendered me unable to properly find my bearings in any situation. So, when you are out with me and get frustrated by my inabilites to find a location, don't blame me, blame the guys responsible for you getting a cheap vacation on pristine beaches.

In any case, I believe I started calling farmlands, north, because on the first occasion when I took a trip outside of Toronto deep into farmlands, it was to Oro Medonte; north of Barrie. Barrie, is north of Toronto. The other day I was driving north again--it might have been west-- and came to this little town before London Ontario. The outskirts of this little town are carpeted with miles of farmlands and mansion like houses. The main roads linking all these farms and towns are usually 8o km/h but I love driving at 45km/h and just admire the view. The houses look like mansions out of a Stephen King's movie. The gigantic estates where just one person lives, and inevitable becomes hunted. It's eerie and almost morbidly inviting.

In these small towns you can almost always find antic stores. I love going into these antic stores. It feels like taking the express train down memory lane. But insomebody else's memory. You find old chairs, old scratched tables with teeth marks so small and eroded that the kid that created them might be an old man by now. What always fascinates me is finding picture albums. Why people think I would buy their old pictures is always beyond me. But it doesn't mean that I still don't like browsing through. Perhaps it's that same morbid invitation. Most of the pictures are made crisp by the sun and age. They are yellow and faded at the edges of the shapes depicted in them. There are children in long shorts wearing classic tami beret hats and suspenders. The backgrounds look almost completely faded in all of them, but sometimes you are lucky enough to see some people in the odd park. You look at those people and you know that they are all dead, that everyone who was alive in that period: the mailman, all the mailmen, the bum, all the bums, lawyers, writers, family men, prisoners, teachers, every teacher in the planet, honest men, dishonest men, are dead. Yet, you are still looking at them. It's like a time telescope, and you get to peep through. You should try it sometimes when you are bored. Just drive north and see where it takes you, if you are like me it will take you to different places every time. Search for antic store, and look at the treassure hidden in them. Even colour faded roadsigns are sometimes interesting telescopes to look through.

I will give you one advise though, if you happen to be driving behind me on one of those streets make sure that you are polite and don't flash your lights at me. If you don't I will pull over and you can pass. If you do I will reduce my speed to 20km/h and we can both enjoy the view.

Commute on a rainy day

2009-04-06T10:41:00.000-07:00

Today I woke to a rainy, snowy day. In the west end of city where I live, the wind was blowing fiercely and even under the multitude of blankets and sleep covers, I could hear the muffled roar of the wind outside my window. I threw a tired arm out from under the blankets and manged to grasp the remote control of my zenith tv resting on my night table. I turned on channel 7, Breakfast television, and listened to Frank Ferragine describe the forecast for today. Was it 25 mm or 25 cm of rain that it was going to fall today? I don't remember. But since it referred to rain I believe it must have been 25 mm. Then, tomorrow 8 cm of snow. Awesome!

I sat up in bed, listened to some more news. Watched Jennifer on the live eye tell the news on the fashion show at George Brown college; great show. Great models. I mean professionally, stop it! Then got up, showered, got ready and went to work. As soon as I got out of the building the wet damp snow falling on my head, and face made me realize one thing, the commute would be a pain. From where I live it normally takes me about an hour and fifteen minutes to get to work downtown. Usually at eight in the morning the subway and bus routes are bearable if not half empty, which is just the way I like it. However, when it rains or snows it seems as though the city swells in population. I don't know how it happens, but I believe it's a conspiracy. Yes, I believe the city has a conspiracy to ruin my mornings. I believe everyone congregates at city hall the night before it's going to rain, and think up ways to annoy me in the morning. Let me tell you, it actually works.You might think it's the nut in me talking, but why else would so many people come outside, just when I am outside, the days when it's cold, and damp and gray, and dark?

From my bedroom window I can see the 427 South with a line of cars squeezed bumper to bumper, and I know that they will remain bumper to bumper towards the Gardener Express Way and the exit on Yonge street. So, I choose not to drive downtown when it rains. I decide instead to take the bus, and the subway. But guess what, it's also full of conspirators pushing and closing up against me. You can all tell me your reasons of why both the highways and the transit systems get packed, and I am sure they are all reasonable excuses. I know the truth though. It's a conspiracy.

Today as it was to expect the subway was overflowing with passengers. On the Bloor Street line people were elbow to elbow as cars would be bumper to bumper on the surface. The next great thing about a subway ride with these many people is the festival of smells that erupts. As soon I thought of it as a festival, the image formed in my head, and in my mind it went something like this:

Narrow wet damp streets were suddenly formed between canvas tents with blue plastic tarp roofing tide at the corners with rope. Suddenly, a cacophony of loud marketeer screams exploded.

"Cigarette butt and Channel No. 5!" A well dressed business looking woman in the tent beside me was screaming.
"Cigarette butt and Channel No. 5, here for free! Only today! Do not miss it! Just for today, because it's rainy and gray, and ugly!"

Then from another tent a little to the left of this one someone else was screaming louder. "Stale coffee and sweaty armpits. Stale coffee, and sweaty armpits everyone! Don't miss it! Only while it rains!
"Every one gather around, stale coffee and sweaty armpits!"

Meanwhile in a very small tent in front of me a blond girl with pale blue eyes and a U of T bag pack was looking up and whispering "Acqua di Parma. Acqua di Parma, " but no one could hear her.

Now, in the dynamic marketplace the cigarette butt and Channel No. 5 tent had merged with the stale coffee and sweaty armpits tent and together had made a powerful enterprise which was slowly driving every marketeer out of business.

Just then from the far right an hysteric cry silenced all others. All the other tents disapeared. There was no festival anymore. Just one person. Standing in an open road. He was wearing a suit. He was holding a briefcase. He was looking at his watch. He was annoyed. He was upset. He was late. "Baad breaaath! Baad breaaath! Baad Breaath!" Screaming in my head like a fire alarm.

Thankfully just then my stop came and I got off before I got a headache. But as I walked up the stairs of the Yonge and Bloor subway station I could still smell some of the products the festival was giving away, and I wondered if by chance they had left me with a few samples.

Experience, no experience

2009-04-06T10:39:00.000-07:00

There is this William's Coffee Pub on Queen Street that I love going to. Of course if you knew that I have only gone there twice then you would wonder whether that's enough time for me to judge wether I like it or not. Also, if you knew me well you would know that I change my mind quite a lot and for me to go somewhere twice and still like it, it's quite an accomplishment. Good on you Williams Coffee Pub on Queen Street!
So, as I was saying, I like this place quite a lot. I like it because it has this unique feeling to it you know? It's like walking into a place with class but which it's still affordable. It's like going into a cafe' where you might find interesting people, even if you don't. It's like entering a place in Europe while you are still in Brampton. Once you walk inside it's almost impossible to miss the gigantic blackboard with the menu on it written in different colored chalk. If you are lucky and it's not crowded you might be able to get a booth along the wall where you can sit and lay back while appreciating a nice cup of coffee or a fruit smoothie, or a nice piece of cheese cake. If you are not so lucky you might still be able to find an empty table somewhere with a couple of unused chairs. It's as unique a place as any of the other dozens of Williams Coffee Pubs spread throughout the city, damn globalization! But that's a subject for another blog.

I was there the other night with my fiancée and we were having a conversation about the importance of experience in the workforce. I was having a blended coffee smoothie which I hoped would wake me up for the ride home. But turns out it didn't. With the times as they are, with people getting laidoff left and right, and resumes being done to compulsive levels; I began to think about what most dread the most. "Do I have enough experience," or from the employers' point of view "Do you have enough experience."

It seems to me that people sometimes do not realize that there is a catch in that method of thinking. I have seen for myself that there is a problem with that mentality. For an enterprise to function well, in my opinion there must be a balance. Of course you need experienced people in your staff, but it's also important that you look and hire inexperienced personnel. Experience only functions well and becomes a benefit when coupled with inexperience. If you haven't noticed, maybe you should be a little more observant, but experience in many cases means that you know a vast number of ways in which things won't work. It's fine if you don't agree with me. You think I am wrong. Just humour me for a bit. We as humans are programmed to draw parallels. If an infant tries to grab a light bulb and gets burnt, he will stay away from all types of illuminating objects while the memory lasts (do I really need to mention not to try this? ). But it also means that he might be scared to play with a safe toy which emits light.

In a strange way knowledge sometimes puts a box around us from which it can be hard to get out. The walls of the box are constructed by the parallels we draw. I remember one day I was looking for a particular book in the catalog computer at my local library. I was looking for a Chinese cooking book. I kept trying different combinations of Chinese cooking books, but I would get one hit returned along with a bunch of Italian or Spanish cooking book results.
It became noticeable perhaps through my cursing that I was struggling, and a nice Samaritan came to the rescue. I struggled not to curse as I explained the problems I was having. Finally she said, why don't you try typing China, hitting enter, and then typing cooking books. "What a moron," I thought to myself. She is trying to tell me, me, the computer scientist how a database works. If she had half a brain even if it was shrunken in pickle sauce she would still know that two different queries, that's right they are called queries, are separate entities. But to humour her, I tried it.

Lo and behold it worked!

It seems that this was a smart database which kept context, so after I keyed in China and later cooking books it returned just about every cooking book in China (there are a lot!). She didn't know how databases worked so she was open to try anything. She had no box. Me, on the other hand, well...Let's leave it at that.

If you have a bunch of people with a ton of experience trying to solve a new revolutionary problem that might require out of the box thinking, you will get a bunch of whiteboards horribly harassed and a couple of trees killed in report pages explaining why this problem can't be solved. Or, in the better cases you get solutions which cost billions of dollars, a kidney, and a squirrel. And although this is true, it doesn't mean that the experienced staff are stupid and can't figure out less expensive ways. It's just that they are blinded by previous knowledge and they have probably built a bunch of redundancies into the solution.

On the other hand if you get a bunch of people with no experience you might end up with a solution that costs twenty bucks,a squirrel, and works perfectly well on Tuesdays.

However if you combine the Chutzpa and genius that comes from the freedom of not knowing what won't work with the experience of those who know, you might end up with a product that's reasonable, cost effective, and you might spare a squirrel.
It's like this, the inexperienced people will bring the crazy ideas that range in the whole spectrum of what's possible and what isn't. That by definition must include what works. And the experienced people will bring their knowledge of what hasn't worked in the past so that mistakes are not constantly repeated, and not to reinvent the wheel.

I believe I will quit doing what I do the minute I am so experienced I can't think of anything new to do.

Now, do us all a favour and start hiring not based only on experience but on creativity and perseverance which are far greater virtues.

Almost science fiction

2009-03-06T11:38:00.000-08:00

I was reading an article about NASA's Kepler telescope and the missions to find intelligent life in other planets and it made me think about the necessity of such misuse of resources. This is not to say that I, like many NASA critics, suggest that the space agency is a total waste of money and time. No, in fact I am a strong supporter of NASA and of scientific research. However, I have never been a great fan of extra terrestrial life exploration. I am more concerned with understanding how we function and the laws of physics which are involved in making us function in that particular way.

Searching for life in outer space is another thing, one which I don't quite support. It suffices to me to know that it is almost mathematically certain that in the billion upon billion upon billion of planets out there, there is another one just like this one and that it too, supports life. To me this is as certain as the laws of probability.

The search for life in other planets aside from being wasteful, to me lacks any visible benefit. Suppose that we were able to find another planet with intelligent life. Suppose it were close enough for us to send an expedition of scientists to explore the planet and interact with the living creatures. We now also have to suppose that we can come up with a way to communicate with them in which we won't unintentionally flash them a sign which they would interpret as the extraterrestrial equivalent of giving the middle finger, in which case our poor scientists would end up being rectally probed and shoved into an extraterrestrial state of the art Zoo. And if you believe I am talking none sense then you probably have never been prepped for a business meeting with clients of different cultures.

Looking through our history I can't say much good has come from the encounters of two civilizations. And before any of you gets sentimental and start telling me about how great the encounter of the European and the American civilization was, first try to convince native americans or try to convince me of the genocides and extermination of the many Indigenous civilizations in the Americas.

And this is just in good old Earth.

Back to a cube

2008-09-16T19:24:00.000-07:00

So, after a month of sitting in the Presidential office, regarded the best office in the company, I am back in a cubicle. Yes, don't kid yourself, or let anybody fool you, it sucks.

First, how did I end up getting the Presidential office? Am I the President of the company? Ha! Well, it so happened that around the beginning of the summer there were some changes in the leadership of the company and the president's office was left empty. Lets just leave it at that. At that time I had all sorts of equipment and target machines, and development machines, and blackboards, and whiteboards, and mice (optical ones), and I was barely able to fit in my 8'x8' cube. So, one of my co-workers and a friend suggested that I ask for the Presidential office with the pretext that I needed the space (which truly, I did need). But of course he meant it as a joke. To me however it made sense. The office was empty, and I needed the space.

I walked in one morning in early July to see one of the managers who deals with these kinds of requests and asked him very politely if I may have the office next to my cube which at the time lay empty. He said he would look into it, and we left it at that. Later that same day he walked by my cubicle and realized then, that the office next to my cubicle was the mildly large office with two equally large windows overlooking Richmond Street, just east of Church Street. He let out a chuckle and inquired again as to my need for the office. I, with a movement of my arm unveiled the inhumane mess in which I was trapped. He nodded and left. The day after I was allowed to move into the office. This is one thing I like about this company, if you make a request, and you can convince someone that it makes sense it will be made possible.

And in that office, of long windows reaching from the ceiling almost down to the floor, with Sun light splashing on the walls, and a view of the city's bums, prostitutes, prominent business men and hotdog vendors, I basked in the formidable space. But the most brilliant thing of all, was that that office, as opposed to my cubicle, had a door! A door! Oh that slab of wood, oh boundary of the blessed! Thou hath left me, for now I am back in a door less cubicle.

How did I end up back in a cubicle?

We moved office buildings.

Now, one individual who knew I spent a couple of months in that office came and asked me how does it feel to be back amongst "the peasants." Aside from the inaccuracy of the remark, it borders on offensive. I never attached any personal achievement or merit to that office, I was still reporting back to the same people. Just as I do now. But I loved the space. Now, I am back in a cube, which to be completely honest it's not too bad and when I am submerged in my work I kind of forget the world around me. But from time to time, when I look back, I miss looking at the bums and the prostitutes, down in the street.

An artisan and an Artist

2008-09-01T09:41:00.000-07:00

An oddity worth mentioning:

I find it particularly interesting and brain grinding the fact that since the beginning of civilization our technology has evolved, our intellect and ways of life have evolved. We no longer have slaves who fight to their deaths in coliseums. We no longer burn "witches" at stakes --at least not in free societies-- yet the process of cultural evolution remains the same; an individual or a small group presents a new idea, the idea gets ridiculed and shutdown with only a few revolutionary souls insisting upon it until slowly the masses begin to accept it. When this happens the new idea is the one formally adopted and the previous method is shunned and forgotten. It takes a few years, or decades, or centuries depending on the medium but eventually the furor and excitement of that, once new idea, dies down and freckles of the old system begin a come back as the old time "classic" and blend its influences into the now established medium only to have the whole cycle repeat itself again.

Early painters of the Renaissance basked in the arms of Realism making the subjects of their paintings, the sceneries, and their clothing depict reality as close as could be done on canvas and oil based paints.

During the Baroque period artists began to experiment more with light and paint itself, and towards the end, impressionism began to emerge. With impressionism light effects took over the scenery and became the subject of the piece, brush strokes became more visible and intricate.

From the Renaissance to Impressionism to Modernism we see a trend in moving away from reality and making the medium the subject of the arts; painting is now about brush strokes and colour.

A friend of mine was recently working on creating a 3D model of a car's dashboard dial for a car manufacturer which was moving away from using the analog dials to using the more futuristic 3d OpenGL dial. The 3d model had a glossy finish of metallic blue. The needle in the centre of the dial swung as though floating in the middle of some virtual magnetic field. He explained to me that it took him quite some time to figure out a mathematical formula that would yield a realistic needle behaviour. The dashboard dial he created was done so amazingly well that it would be hard for me to describe it except perhaps by referring you to any existing car with a round dashboard dial of metallic blue. And I think to myself, why work so hard and invest so much time to duplicate something we already have, be it in a different medium or not? Are we experiencing the Renaissance's of computer graphics? I see movies keep coming out where the actors are 3D rendered images which look more and more like real actors. I have worked on the software for airplane cockpits where the altitude and fake horizon dials are exact copies of their analog predecessors. I see all this and I wonder; why? Why spend resources, time and money in creating a 3D rendered image which looks just like my uncle Joyce, why not just call my uncle Joyce who is a very good actor and give him the role in the movie? Why create a 3D version of the same old dashboard dial?

We have the need to imitate reality. It's in ourselves to observe the surroundings and imitate it and that's what we do every time we find a medium that allows us to do so. In the dashboard dial scenario however, there is an extra psychological factor. We are not just replacing the analog dial with a software one. We are replacing the whole dashboard and we have become very good at interpreting the round dials with the needle in them. And since we are used to using that concept we preserve it in the software model. With time the computer graphics medium will evolve too and the art will be in the infinite possibilities that the imaginative mind can hold. It will too, hopefully move away from copying reality.

Yet, I myself can't help but wonder what it would be like if we weren't so sensitive to change. Imagine we didn't have to go through these cycles all the time. Computer graphics artists should stop drawing dashboard dials which are as freakishly realistic and esthetically stunning as the one in my dad's ten year old car. The beautiful thing about computers is that it is the tangible dimension of the imaginary. In the world of virtual reality the stuff dreams are made of can be seen, and almost touched. There is an infinite world in this medium where our laws of physics have no jurisdiction, and should not. Instead of copying what we see and having two exact just as realistic copies of the same thing, disrupt and distort them. Just because a concept has been used for 50 years does not mean it can't change, if anything it means it should change. A person that creates a 3D image of my uncle Joyce so detailed that the sweat beads falling down his sideburns augment each wrinkle or vein that falls beneath it, is not an artist, it's a great artisan.

An artist will show me something I have never seen, and awe me with it.

Finally fixed the driver

2008-08-28T10:11:00.000-07:00

The only thing worth going through the painful process of fixing a complicated problem, the kind of problem which keeps you up at night and makes you dream of code and unfathomable journeys through memory space filled with pointers and addresses, is that when you finally solve it you feel that much better.

In "One of those weeks" I told you about a problem that I was facing where a particular memset call was producing access violations, even though the memory was mapped and should have been accessible. I stayed in my office yesterday until 9pm and banged my head against the screen a few times before I figured out the problem. I started the driver and while booting I saw in my debugger window in Visual Studio something that caught my attention. I saw that instead of the driver been loaded at an address which I expected it to, it had been shifted a little (I almost couldn't help say a 'bit'). This shift caused the whole loading process to shift and so our memset address got shifted and ran out of bounds.

I set the expected address to the address where the driver was actually loaded, and lo and behold it worked. This is a problem that I was able to solve but just as well might not have since it was so difficult to identify. This brings me to an important point. Sometimes especially when things do not seem to work and we try every possible solution, just like I had tried--I changed the address, re-mapped the address, checked the buffer size, every test that I made suggested that the driver should work--then the best way to proceed is to throw all of your knowledge, your instincts, your results, and most importantly your assumptions out the window and question your initial assumption which might have shifted your whole problem astray. Sometimes the solution to the problem does not lie within the intricacies of itself, but rather within the context in which we are trying to solve it. In my case, the driver itself was correct just like my tests were showing, and the mapping was done perfectly. To keep investing time in debugging the inner works and magic of the driver would have been to waste it. Instead, taking back a look at how the driver itself is loaded into memory and question whether this process was correct, yielded the right answer.

The other thing I like about solving difficult problems aside from the feeling of confidence it gives balancing the sessions of self esteem bashing, is that it has a humbling factor. Difficult problems serve to show us that no matter how much we think we know, there is always more for us to learn, by researching and from others.

And no, I did not scream I am king of the world.

One of those weeks

2008-08-21T06:34:00.000-07:00

I have been having one of those weeks where nothing you throw at the intellectual world seems to work. You know, those weeks when your neurons seems to say 'see ya fella' and go on vacation. I have been working on this port to WINCE6 and it's been pretty much hell from the beginning. I have never seen so many problems together, all caused by bad memory mapping. The only good thing about the sleepless nights and the self esteem bashing of not being able to solve the problems, is that when you do, you feel like the king of the universe, and like DiCaprio you run to the balcony in your office and climb on the railing and yell "Im king of the world!"

Yeah... I don't do that either.

Well, this past week it's been like the first part of that odyssey of which I spoke. I am having a problem where a simple memset call render an access violation, even though, the address is mapped. I have thrown everything I have at it, and the damn thing just won't work.

I am the kind of person who can't let a problem go. I can't just move on to something else. For the past three nights I have been dreaming of pointers and disarray. I hate memory mapping.

I remember the school days of a year a go and it is only now when I can appreciate the difference between schooling and working. While in university I maintained that you feel more pressure in school because you need to get that degree, after that, work was almost a given. But first you needed to achieve that position. While true, the one difference which I did not realize back then is that in school you seldom have to do 100% of the work. I remember in my operating systems class our FIFO prototypes and memory mapping exercises would only work on certain days of the week, and if Mars aligned with Jupiter, but not with Pluto, which then was a planet. In our networking class, our clients and servers would not communicate past the three way handshake, but we still got B's and you can pass with a B.

In the real world however, much to my surprise the software needs to work everyday of the week no matter where Mars is; madness!

Software on the 51st floor

2008-08-17T15:34:00.000-07:00

Last night was a pretty interesting night. I went to Cirque du Soleil at the Air Canada Centre home of the Toronto Maple Leafs, The Toronto Raptors, and any other event too small to fill the Rogers Centre, or as previously known the Skydome.

The show was stupendous. I can honestly say it was the most professional and electrifying circus act I have seen in my life. The juggler juggled from 7-9 balls and bounced them around his feet at speeds almost too high to see clearly. But the best performance in my opinion goes to a guy who played a joyful boy. The act was a crowd interactive piece with a mixture of sound effects he made with his mouth and mime gestures which brought the better half of the spectators to tears with laughter. He even made a guy get up from the crowd and jump around, and pretend to be in a western duel from the times of the wild west. I would recommend it to anyone with a chance to go see Cirque du Soleil, extremely entertaining.

The show began at 7:30 pm and ended at around 9:00pm. It was a beautiful night for walking in downtown Toronto. It wasn't too cold and the sky was clear and if you squinted long enough you could even see a star. We walked south on Bay street for about two minutes to the parking lot behind the Gardiner Expressway on Bay and Harbour. The mass exodus from the ACC seemed to carry us with them towards the overcrowded parking lot. From behind the elevated highway running over the parking lot the CN Tower rose in its exuberant red and white glow, to its right the TD Waterhouse tower seemed dwarfed and merged into the skyline.

It was early so it meant we had time to meet my fiancee's friend and her boyfriend which had been meaning to get together with us for a while. We drove north on Bay street to Bloor street where we found parking in an underground garage for 12 dollars, plus the 20 we had previously paid meant we had already spent 32 dollars on parking space. If that doesn't make you want to ride the subway, I don't know what will! We parked in the Yorkville area which is filled with extravagant bars and expensive clothing stores. In every corner it seemed there was a patio filled with people dressed in suites and women in night dresses all drinking wine and eating oysters. We walked to the Menu Life Building which houses one of the bars with the best views in the area. Panorama and it's situated in the 51st floor right at the heart of downtown Toronto.

It was my first time going to Panorama, but right from the elevator I knew it was a peculiar type of bar. There were only two buttons, second floor, and 51st floor- pretty specific I would say. I guess since it's a bar you want to give drunk people less options and ways to get confused and wandering lost inside a 51 story building. We pressed the obvious choice and twenty seconds later we were 51 stories high and our ears were popping. The bar looked nice, with dimmed romantic and accented lights at the corners of the walls, mahogany tables and leather couches. My fiancee spotted her friend sitting in the patio, yes that's right a patio in the 51st floor. The patio had couches and reclining chairs, and you could see the whole of Toronto. The CNTower, the TD tower, the CIBC building, Lake Ontario, and the breeze was fresh as could be.

After the courteous introductions I ordered a mojito-which just so you know was amazing and about the best mojito I have had- and almost treacherously and unexpectedly the very dreaded question popped up.

"So what do you do?"

I realized I had been asked a question but gently dodged it and continued to drink my mojito and enjoy the view which by now included a school of seagulls and loonies flying inland.

"Ken, he is asking you what do you do" - That was my fiancee nudging me with her elbow.

Ahh, love, a beautiful thing.

Gina's boyfriend Mark, an entrepreneur, business major, and very proud of his accomplishments asked me what do I do.

About what, was my natural answer after Red Foreman from That 70's Show.

Perhaps to many people including other computer scientists this question is not such a big deal. To me however, it is not a question I want to answer while nursing a very expensive mojito at the edge of the universe. What I do is write and test graphics drivers for embedded systems, this includes safety critical system like aerospace projects (Airbus A380), or other non safety critical systems like GPS gadgets for cars and such. But if I begin to explain that I am in the graphics world of computing I can almost guarantee that I will be asked to photoshop a wedding picture for them.

Then what can I say, I wondered. If I say I am a programmer (though I don't like that because it's over simplifying what computer science is, and what I do) then I'll be asked what areas of programming I like most, just like I am always asked. And then, when I say that I prefer the low level side of programming they look at me with soggy eyes and pouting lips, as though saying awww I'm sure if you try hard enough one day you could do higher level stuff.
One thing I find funny is that people cannot get over the fact that low level and high level have a completely different meaning in the world of computing.

I looked at him straight in the eyes and said.

"I work at PizzaHut"

My fiancee pinched me hard in the ribs and still hurts, and I continued to drink my mojito.

Welcome!

2008-08-17T09:40:00.001-07:00

Hello there and welcome to the launch of Software, and a little more. In here I will be talking about the software life cycle and every little aspect I can think of regarding the software development process, which includes donuts and a little secret I'll let you all in on a little later (includes a magic dance) .

As a computer scientist I see the science of computing (I bet you didn't see that coming) as a little more than math and science. To me computer science is an art, and as such this site won't be about the needy greedy, boring, nerd seeking, geek infested bits and bytes composing the software world. Instead, my goal is to speak of the world of software making from a much higher level, which includes dealing with management, dealing with customers-this is always a fun subject if you haven't had the joyous opportunity to have experienced it already-and meeting impossible deadlines.

As the title implies this blog will be about Software, and a little more... In the "a little more..." portion I want to include everyday life anecdotes which might or might not directly relate to the software building process, but who cares, it'll be fun and interesting. After all I'm lots of fun, really, you should all meet me. I will try to write as often as I am able to. But I have promised myself that I will update this blog at least twice a week.

Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy the blog!