A lot of press lately has been addressing the downsides of coder culture — for example, A. facebook / google / twitter’s latest press releases revealing that less than 20% their technical workforce is female; B. Tim Evko’s discussion on battling constant community pressure toward Information Overload; and C. a recent rant on the “If I have to explain this, you’re too stupid” mentality. These issues add up to a proliferation of barriers toward so-called “newbs” — people who want to enter the coding community.
Coders have hiring power and with it the ability to admit new code community members on their own terms. Often, although there are thousands of companies with code teams, those somewhat arbitrary terms can be eerily similar: “Would I want to have beers and shoot nerf guns with this person?” (one cause of “A”), “Is this person…
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Fourteen years ago, I wrote a story about a girl.
I was thirteen at the time, and writing stories was what I did. And not just about girls. Planets that spoke to each other, mice who lived in the Underground, magic meerkats and friendly boats. Writing was my thing; it was beyond a hobby and more than just something I enjoyed. It was how I understood the world. Words had all the magic and possibility anyone could ever need. Put them in the right order, and you could create a world of your own. And maybe, if you got them just right, that world would be a place that would mean something to other people.
I’d written countless stories by the time I was thirteen – the first at age 6, in which the acknowledgements page listed all our family pets by name, including the guinea pigs – of varying length…
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Photo taken by contributor Ty Fitzgerald, a man who has been diagnosed with Bipolar II. Ty has a fondness for Lo-fi and Lux filters because they intensify shadows, highlights and colors. Such photos visually represent the way he sees the world, a little brighter and darker than he imagines those without bipolar disorder see the world.
About this photo: “This photo was taken in New Smyrna Beach, FL at sunset. A father and son were fishing and I managed to get a shot with just the son in it. The tide was coming in and there was water pooling all around him. When I dropped to the sand to take the shot, it looked like he was walking on water. I like this shot a lot because it has that “decisive moment” that Henri Cartier-Bresson described, where just a split second sooner or later, it would not have worked. I like to take photos of people when…
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Thanks for posting – your pictures are a feast for the eyes.
“Hey Mom, are trees living things or living beings?”
Our nine year old son looked into the forest then up at me as we hiked side by side along a gurgling brook. His dad and sister walked a few steps ahead of us. Upstream was the Glade Creek Grist Mill in West Virginia, a rustic wooden building with a pitched roof. Today its wet planks were framed by yellowing autumn trees.
“I guess that depends on what you mean by living being,” I said. “I think of a being as — ” I tried to think of words that would be familiar to him. I failed. “As a sentient being — something that has a soul.” The path was littered in gold, red, and toast brown leaves, and I kicked at a drift with my leather hiking shoe.
“Personally, I think of trees…
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Many Thanks for posting your list. Have shared with my readers and will be reading some titles from your list myself.
It’s been a trying year here at Sorry Television. Sidetracked by work—and, let’s be honest, an endless procession of binge-worthy Netflix inventory—I am set to close out 2014 with a mere 32 books under my belt, near enough to bi-weekly that I should probably rebrand as You’re Welcome Television (subtitle: Reading Books Every So Often, Like When the Power Goes Out). I’m already planning redemptive 2015 reading goals (a book a day? a book an hour?) but for the time being I’ll have to accept mediocrity, and foist as much blame as possible on a shorter commute’s ability to stymie even the most dedicated bibliophile.
But I can claim a smidge of productivity this month, which is why I’m Indiana-Jonesing under the content door that is Christmas week to bring you The Irrefutable Best Books of 2014, a master list of this year’s greatest hits, as determined by 21 other “best of”s written by people who have actually read them…
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