Interview with a Geek
À la Interview with a Vampire minus the blood letting.
Photo by Goran Ivos on Unsplash
Every week in the NY Times Book Review, there’s an easy page—easy to write, edit and publish. since the only editing necessary is to fit a one print spread. Though for readers, it causes indigestion to read the same inane questions being repeated week after week. It must be fun interviewing each literati-luminary or other famed guest, with such searching questions as ‘how do you organize your books?’ and ‘who would you invite to dinner?’
In the interest of expanding this pursuit of things with which to clog one’s brain Sunday mornings instead of watching the bacon burn, this interview is submitted with the utmost confidence that it will do no less harm.
Other than at age five sitting at an IBM 386 clone drawing lines in AutoCAD at your father’s office, when did you first gain an interest in computers?
In the second grade we had a single Mac located outside the classroom that forever enticed us with the promise of dying of dysentery on the Oregon Trail. A friend of mine and I used it to create an unsanctioned school newspaper that lasted around three issues.
What was the first computer language you learned? Second?
I am ashamed to admit the first programming language was Visual Basic. To provide an understandable metaphor, think of VB as being the equivalent of building a gothic cathedral with nothing but pre-fab concrete boxes, one stacked atop the other—it works, but the Lord sheds tears at its ugliness. My second language was C++ in college, and learning it made me realize just how tortured a language VB was.
Why do you even call those languages?
Noam Chomsky’s work probably provides the easiest way to understand why we call them languages. Although better-known as a political activist, his claim to fame in the realm of computer science comes from his work as a linguist, where in the 1950s he created something known as the Chomsky Hierarchy, a conceptual framework that underpins much of how we translate ("compile”) higher-level languages readable by humans into machine-executable binary instructions. That conceptual framework plus a lot of neat and elegant work by mathematicians and computer scientists allows you to run your blog.
What’s your favorite CD / vinyl album?
Lateralus by Tool. The album masterfully combines math, Buddhist and Hindu concepts—and weird time signatures to create a journey for the listener as good a meditation on the nature of reality as any I’ve found. Plus, it just totally rocks from the first track all the way to the last one.
How do you read books, digitally or print form?
I still prefer books of the dead-tree variety, but my reading tastes have shifted away from books towards long-form journalism over the last decade, and I consume that content mainly on my phone.
Who is Gene Wolfe to you?
Gene Wolfe was a giant in the realm of speculative fiction, powerfully influencing other favorite authors of mine like Neil Gaiman, and I think I own all his books. Much like my love for weird time signatures in music, I love Wolfe’s work for his use of framing devices and playful linguistics that make the reader work to get the most from his books. He’s similar to authors like Joyce or Faulkner in that regard—if either of those authors had written books about a generation ship sailing the stars to take the last remnants of humanity away from a dying sun in the extremely distant future.
When did you first read The Foundation Trilogy? How many times?
I picked up the series late in elementary school, while Isaac Asimov was still alive and adding books to it. I recall saving my allowance so I could go to the Crown bookstore and buy the next prequel or sequel whenever he would add to it during the 90s. But I’ve only read the series once—reading Asimov is about his big ideas, but his prose doesn’t necessarily invite a re-read, so once he’d clearly explained his thoughts I didn’t feel the need to go back. [You didn’t bribe your mother to drive to the book store? Oh, I kid. Ed.]
Why is Umberto Eco worth reading? For that matter, Noam Chomsky?
Umberto Eco, and I’d also add Jorge Luis Borges, are authors I read for their prose as well as for their ideas. Eco’s writing tends to be spare on characterization, but he is gleeful in his blending of symbols, language and concepts coming from his background as a medievalist and semiotician.
Focault’s Pendulum, for instance, provides a mode for understanding the current culture of conspiracy-theorizing, while at the same time introducing readers to sources and authors—related to the Knights Templar, BASIC computer programming, a ton of occult figures, and a heritage of charlatans and conspiracy nuts stretching back over the last thousand years.
I was introduced to Chomsky’s political writing by a friend during high school who has since gone on to be the executive editor of the online magazine, Jacobin (thanks for making me smarter, Seth!). And then I started reading his books on linguistics during college. I think if one wants to speak credibly on either topic, they must read Chomsky. Although often derided as a left-wing idealist, his books examining the history of U.S. imperialism and involvement in Latin America, the Middle East, and in other parts of the world demonstrate that he’s more of an actual realist than the so-called realists. His mastery of linguistics shows up in his political work as well, where he’s able to cut through propaganda and popular euphemisms to call a spade a spade. [Speaking figuratively. ED]
He, among other authors, helped me understand how and why the modern political world works the way it does.
[Surely, the NY Times will cut this to fit. Ed.]
What happened to the computer desk your loving father once presented you for Christmas?
The desk bounced around Northern Virginia, made its way to Seattle, but sadly did not survive the return trip to NoVA due to incompetence on the part of movers. It wasn’t the ritziest of desks, [Now he tells me. Ed.] but I took pride in it surviving twenty years of moves with nary a scratch upon its surface. And then the dingbats who packed my stuff decided not to dismantle it for travel, set it upright in a van, and let its particle board be torn asunder. [So tragic. Ed.]
Did you ever see yourself retiring in Seattle?
Have you seen the housing prices in Seattle?
What do you have against Bainbridge Island?
It is as expensive as Seattle, and it’s an island. Plus, when the Cascade Fault ruptures, I’m reasonably certain it’ll be inundated in the resulting tsunami.
What do you have against Jeff and Elon? Gates, for that matter?
I’m just envious of the fact that all three of them had parents who actually cared enough about their progeny to become wealthy and gift those dudes [Ducks. Ed.] with money to start their respective companies. [No further comment. Ed,]
Why does drawing maps for role-playing games make you happy?
I’ve long enjoyed role-playing, and in recent years have come to find that making maps is, for me, a powerful tool to help build and tell good stories with the people with whom I play. Maps, similar to constructed languages, which I also dabble in, have this neat ability to convey belief about a fantasy world, and then during play, that belief gets translated into a reality. I also grew up enjoying architectural drafting, and map-making for role-playing games is mechanically similar.
When will you admit dogs are superior to cats?
When both species sprout wings and jointly plot the overthrow of humanity. [Ed. left the room.]
The preceding was edited for content, whatever that means.