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Some years ago, I studied game design and development and thought of becoming a game developer. Spending time in gaming communities and the whole mess of GamerGate led me to abandon that path completely. Not interested in catering to these cunts.

As a software developer there is no such thing as being done with learning, ever.

80% of the tools and technologies I work with today didn't exist 10 years ago, and 80% of the tools and technologies you will be working with 10 years from now are just being invented right now.

My notebook (reMarkable) just rebooted and installed a software update while I was writing notes. This is exactly the behaviour I need from my analogue-to-digital tools in 2020.

My hot picks to Futurice developer newsletter are out! The theme is always topical: information security with a beginner-friendly perspective.

Read it, and subscribe to get more treats into your inbox.

One of my old favourites is getting a re-recording. Mr Bungle's Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny that is. Should activate and listen to more Mike Patton again.


This fall, I've been involved in discussions about what motivates me as a software engineer. Explaining it briefly is challenging, so I wrote a post about it.

An oddly soothing watch about a depressed man befriending an octopus in a sea forest. One of the finest nature documentaries this year.

It took me a couple of years to master, but now I can work with Macbook Pro with only one cord attached. Too bad USB-C charging from external display doesn't pack enough juice for heavier tasks, but I can live with it.

After about six months of waiting, my reMarkable 2 paper tablet is on its way. Should get it next week.

Expect a review blog post if I don't throw it out of the window (not likely).

With Emacs, I feel like I’m in a long-term, intimate relationship with my editor. A toxic, unproductive, emotionally taxing relationship.

A free font, HyperLegible from the Braille institue. for those with poor vision and to be unambiguous


I was shooting heroin and reading “The Fountainhead” in the front seat of my privately owned police cruiser when a call came in. I put a quarter in the radio to activate it. It was the chief.

“Bad news, detective. We got a situation.”

“What? Is the mayor trying to ban trans fats again?”

“Worse. Somebody just stole four hundred and forty-seven million dollars’ worth of bitcoins.”

The heroin needle practically fell out of my arm. “What kind of monster would do something like that? Bitcoins are the ultimate currency: virtual, anonymous, stateless. They represent true economic freedom, not subject to arbitrary manipulation by any government. Do we have any leads?”

“Not yet. But mark my words: we’re going to figure out who did this and we’re going to take them down … provided someone pays us a fair market rate to do so.”

“Easy, chief,” I said. “Any rate the market offers is, by definition, fair.”

He laughed. “That’s why you’re the best I got, Lisowski. Now you get out there and find those bitcoins.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m on it.”

I put a quarter in the siren. Ten minutes later, I was on the scene. It was a normal office building, strangled on all sides by public sidewalks. I hopped over them and went inside.

“Home Depot™ Presents the Police!®” I said, flashing my badge and my gun and a small picture of Ron Paul. “Nobody move unless you want to!” They didn’t.

“Now, which one of you punks is going to pay me to investigate this crime?” No one spoke up.

“Come on,” I said. “Don’t you all understand that the protection of private property is the foundation of all personal liberty?”

It didn’t seem like they did.

“Seriously, guys. Without a strong economic motivator, I’m just going to stand here and not solve this case. Cash is fine, but I prefer being paid in gold bullion or autographed Penn Jillette posters.”

Nothing. These people were stonewalling me. It almost seemed like they didn’t care that a fortune in computer money invented to buy drugs was missing.

I figured I could wait them out. I lit several cigarettes indoors. A pregnant lady coughed, and I told her that secondhand smoke is a myth. Just then, a man in glasses made a break for it.

“Subway™ Eat Fresh and Freeze, Scumbag!®” I yelled.

Too late. He was already out the front door. I went after him.

“Stop right there!” I yelled as I ran. He was faster than me because I always try to avoid stepping on public sidewalks. Our country needs a private-sidewalk voucher system, but, thanks to the incestuous interplay between our corrupt federal government and the public-sidewalk lobby, it will never happen.

I was losing him. “Listen, I’ll pay you to stop!” I yelled. “What would you consider an appropriate price point for stopping? I’ll offer you a thirteenth of an ounce of gold and a gently worn ‘Bob Barr ‘08’ extra-large long-sleeved men’s T-shirt!”

He turned. In his hand was a revolver that the Constitution said he had every right to own. He fired at me and missed. I pulled my own gun, put a quarter in it, and fired back. The bullet lodged in a U.S.P.S. mailbox less than a foot from his head. I shot the mailbox again, on purpose.

“All right, all right!” the man yelled, throwing down his weapon. “I give up, cop! I confess: I took the bitcoins.”

“Why’d you do it?” I asked, as I slapped a pair of Oikos™ Greek Yogurt Presents Handcuffs® on the guy.

“Because I was afraid.”


“Afraid of an economic future free from the pernicious meddling of central bankers,” he said. “I’m a central banker.”

I wanted to coldcock the guy. Years ago, a central banker killed my partner. Instead, I shook my head.

“Let this be a message to all your central-banker friends out on the street,” I said. “No matter how many bitcoins you steal, you’ll never take away the dream of an open society based on the principles of personal and economic freedom.”

He nodded, because he knew I was right. Then he swiped his credit card to pay me for arresting him.

Thoughts about just-in-time learning, and how it has has helped me stay motivated in my career many times.

It’s , which is cool! Coming out as bi was hard for me, but now how I think of myself internally finally overlaps with how I present myself externally, which lifted a heavy mental burden. It was hard but so, so worth it.

Someone said earlier today that the hardest person you’ll come out *to* is yourself. It was for me, anyway. So if you’re discovering stuff about yourself only now, today is for you, too.

I've been using my new Valco ANC headphones for a couple of days now. I wish I were a dog, so I could tell you about their sound quality other than it's crisp and bassy. A lot more comfortable in the head than my old Bose QC25 and the Bluetooth range and charging time is delightful. Need to test these on meetings next week.

They also plant a tree for every headphone sold, so consider giving these a chance (€149 =~ $175).

Career goals.

1) Become a professional jazz musician
2) Fight back nazis with an underground resistance movement

Season 2 of The Boys is a high definition description of US politics in the Trump era.

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