Most people traverse this industry in silence, duly writing, debugging, and deploying their code in whatever way ensures their salary or stock option grants; some others become unexpected stars in a firmament that would otherwise be dull and uneventful. And since in this magazine we celebrate not only the technological but also the artistic, we have the honor and privilege of reminding every serious (ahem) software developer that being silly and childish and playful is a valid choice. Today’s Library entry, precisely, falls in this category.
On the first pages of Kathy Sierra’s “Head First Design Patterns” you will find a picture of a man from the 1950s facepalming and exclaiming, “I can’t believe they put that in a programming book!” The reaction is not anodyne, nor was the Ms Sierra’s intention; software is a serious profession, and we make serious things. It is, precisely, an engineering activity after all, just like Margaret Hamilton had proposed to refer to it.
We are serious. That is why we conduct job interviews asking people to reverse linked lists on a whiteboard, and once we hire them, we prevent them from joining worker unions, and we sit them in a noisy open space with free granola and a huge foosball table in the middle.
We are serious. That is why we also expect the books of our profession to follow Kernighan’s rule and feature a “Hello, World!” on the first page. Like, for example, Dave Thomas and Andrew Hunt’s famous “Programming Ruby” book, traditionally referred to as “the PickAxe book” in the Ruby community, and which includes not one but two “Hello, World!” snippets, in pages 6 and 7.
Some of us, however, cannot take any more of this bullshit seriousness, and we look for outlets. Remember our article about programming artists? We have continued to honor those outcasts as often as possible: the aforementioned Kathy Sierra, Douglas Hofstadter, Geoffrey James, Andy Clarke, Jens Müller & Julius Wiedemann, Alex Wiltshire & John Short, Pastor Manul Laphroaig, Vikram Chandra, and even our beloved Dr. Dobb’s Journal of Computer Calisthenics & Orthodontia, one of the inspirations for the magazine you are reading right now.
This month’s Library entry is no exception. In the middle of the Ruby frenzy of the early 2000s, an unknown software developer only known as “_why” (yes, with an underscore) or “why the lucky stiff” started making headlines in Slashdot (Hacker News was not yet a thing, kids) with unusual (it is an understatement) publications, conference talks, and code, all orbiting around the Ruby galaxy.
Among those gems (pun intended), you could find an unusual piece: "_why’s (poignant) Guide to Ruby", a book illustrated by the author, featuring the most unexpected introduction ever made for any programming language since the dawn of computing.
Imagine a book filled with comics, foxes, and a plea for collaboration:
Now, if you ever have read a book, you know that no book can properly start without an exorbitant amount of synergy. Yes, synergy. Maybe you didn’t know this. Synergy means that you and I are supposed to cooperate to make this a great reading experience.
The quote above reminds me of Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges, who also advocated for this uncanny, asynchronous, seemingly impossible yet fundamental connection between reader and writer:
I think that the reader should enrich what he is reading. He should misunderstand the text; he should change it into something else.
In August 19th, 2009, _why decided to disappear from the web, and overnight, all of his code, tutorials, and books went away. Among these, of course, the original website of his (poignant) guide to Ruby.
A bunch of fans gathered together years after his disappearance and salvaged as much as possible from archives and backups, compiling everything in a website titled "_why’s Estate", celebrating the memory of a unique moment in time. Among those reconstructions, you will find a new location for the (poignant) guide to Ruby, and even a freely downloadable PDF somewhere else.
Legendary French writer Antoine de Saint-Exupéry once wrote a short book you might have heard about, telling the story of stranded aviator meeting a child lost in the desert.
Les grandes personnes ne comprennent jamais rien toutes seules, et c’est fatigant, pour les enfants, de toujours et toujours leur donner des explications.
It is indeed very tiring to have to explain everything to adults. You know why? Because your inner child sees more than your serious, professional eyes ever will.
– Adieu, dit le renard. Voici mon secret. Il est très simple : on ne voit bien qu’avec le cœur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.
– L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux, répéta le petit prince, afin de se souvenir.
In 2012 we learned that the cause of _why’s disappearance was the disclosure of his identity against his will, including his personal address and other details, because you know how some people are not able to cope with leaving others in peace in this world: they just need to ruin everything for everyone.
Let this article be a belated “thank you” to _why, wherever he is, for all the chunky bacon — readers of the poignant guide will understand.
I need to quote Borges once again, because I really wish to stress the correlation between reading and pleasure:
Against the idea that reading should be a chore, Borges constantly stressed the idea that “reading should be a form of happiness.” Instead of feeling guilty about what you haven’t read, he advised that readers enjoy reading exactly as they pleased. As he put it, “I believe that the phrase ‘obligatory reading’ is a contradiction in terms; reading should not be obligatory. Should we ever speak of obligatory pleasure.”
In this sense, Borges believed that reading was an even more crucial activity than writing. He likened the process of reading to traveling or falling in love. And like love, one has to rekindle it over and over again. As he put it, “It is re-reading, not reading, that counts”.
If you are the kind of person that can cope with beauty, if you instinctively realize that the essential is invisible to the naked eye, if your inner child has not yet been obliterated, and if you are tired of pretending seriousness, then feel free to read "_why’s (poignant) Guide to Ruby" and, as a side effect, learn some Ruby.
Otherwise, do not even bother.
Cover photo by the author.