I have been
tasked, now, with looking back on this long year of Computer Programming and
reflecting on successes, failures, likes and dislikes. It has been an odd twilight, a slow rush. But in the beginning, there were only words-
five words. And those words were “Thriving
in Our Digital World”.
From the
university, they promised, and it was apparent from the start that it hailed
from downtown indeed. No rest; no mercy;
only the relentless explanation of how to use Facebook. A search for clues, an elementary-school
assignment wrapped in a current-issues shell.
But let us not deny that it was entertaining, that first project, back
when we could find words to describe our hatred and, too, words that still
expressed our praise.
The second
project. It is hard to remember, now. Photoshop, I believe; an ad campaign with
another downwards silly cartoon introduction.
Yet that too we endured with pride.
Perhaps we were taught nothing, but we remained active. Perhaps we were not delving deep, but neither
were we still on the surface.
We returned to the
surface with Scratch.
There was
something else in between, I suspect; a stop on our ascent to the void. But its horror, memory-wiping as it may have
been, was nothing compared to the meowing black hole that was Scratch. The true terror was that we were only
slightly above where we usually burrow, in other classes. The true bone-numb was the realization how
little we could learn, if the deepest pits were so close to the surface.
We returned to the
surface with Scratch; and for all that it was new, it was not different. It was not fast. It was not hard. It was only a cat. There are benefits to an off period; but this
was not an off period, for work continued, albeit mindless work.
Jeroo was an
explosion of light by comparison, though the class never fully recovered from
Scratch. We lived; we breathed the air
of hope, though the grains of Jeroo soil intermingled with those of
Scratch. The programming units were
designed as a slow ramp, to sail off at maze’s end. At least Jeroo was short. Besides, with Jeroo we began the long descent
into that which is called Computer Programming; and for that alone we should be
grateful to the leapers.
So Winter Break;
so full Python. We slithered under the
legbeat of the Jeroo and the clawscreech of the Scratchcat. Let us not deny that we moved slowly; but let
us not forget that we moved in the right direction. New knowledge. New knowledge of programming. The banner of divine university torn in
pieces on cooling magma, drowned and burned as one.
From functions to lists
to dictionaries we slithered, ever watching from squamate eyes the greater
name. Thriving in Our Digital
World? Who even came up with this? A constrictor, that was the greater metaphor.
But momentum
regained could be lost again. And there
were only so many tunnels to dig in our domain.
We moved on to Javascript, to Code in the Browser, a simple exercise in
altered syntax; and from there we flew into GoogleAppsScript. GAS was terrible, a shadow beyond
description. It flew over the forest, denouncing
all that was real. Yes, it was learning;
but it was also confirmation that not all programming was enjoyable or good. Scratch was at least nothing; GAS was
worse. Fortunately, kindness spared me
the full impact, and even as senioritis took full grip I retreated to the
serpent- though all forward motion had been dissipated by the cloud.
So let us
summarize.
If a five is
perfect, and a one is abysmal, the phone number of the year was 332-34314. Not a dream; not a nightmare. Merely life.
Merely logic (and
the Internet).
Let us wade
through the waters of dusk. Death to the
slig! This is ended. Slow, at times; but I was only accidentally
here, and my mind only partly. Painful,
at times; but in pain lies some strength.
Overall, a positive impression, but the margin was slim.