note:
I'm writing this post for all of the wrong reasons. I've had this
"write a post about pitfalls of org-mode," on my org-agenda for weeks,
with a list of "ways I'm not doing things right in org-mode." One of
those pitfalls, the main one in fact, was "you're living too much in
the agenda view, and not thinking of your org-files as working
documents and outlines onto themselves."
And because I'm living too much in the agenda view, I'm writing a post
(that I need to write, but have been hesitant to write for a while)
mostly to get it off my todo list.
This is certainly an acceptable way to work, and I think todo lists
mostly exist in order for their items to be completed and checked
off. At the same time, I've said (and I keep saying) the beautiful
thing about org-mode is that it allows you to plan and process your
projects in a way that makes sense for project planning without
centering your process on "actionable items," which is good for doing
things but less good for planning things.
And so I've been failing at keeping the "planning" and the "doing" as
separate thought processes. Note to self: do better with this.
The second pitfall is in the "org-refile" functionality (C-c C-w),
which allows you to send items and subtree's to other parts of your
org-agenda files. I think part of the problem is that I don't really
get how it was intended to be used, and as a result when I try to use
it, it doesn't work. (I tooled around in customize, after I wrote
this and found: that the following bit (in custom-set-variables) to
help, bunches:)
'(org-refile-use-outline-path (quote file))
When I want to refile something, I think to myself "it should go to x
file, under which heading, hrm... lets see what's there..." And my
options are presented to me in [Heading]/ (filename.org) format. The
problem is that org is thinking backwards from me, and as a result I
end up miss-filing things, or not using the refile as much as I should
because it doesn't really work for me. Hrm. Not sure how to hack
this.
In anycase, back to working.
note:
In light of my otherwise fried state of mind, I would like to present
a list of things that I dislike. Because I'm snarky like that.
HTML emails. I've yet to send or receive an email that really
requires rich text formatting provided by HTML emails. While
multi-part emails (which send multiple copies of the same email in
rich and plain text) are a good thing, it's a huge pain in the ass
to get an email (particularly a long email) three times, just for
the pleasure.
Sites that recreate twitter without adding any useful features or
discussion. It's as if the dimwitted internet people said "holy
shit, if we give people 140 characters to say banal things on our
site maybe we'll get traffic like twitter," except this isn't how
the internet has ever worked (or worked well.)
Facebook is coming out with "usernames," I've gotten an invitation
to microblog on niche-social networking site, and everyone seems
hard set on reimplementing this whole "status" thing a la twitter in
the beginning, without any thought of interpretation (a la laconica)
or doing something cool like jaiku-style threads, let alone the
next big thing.
Malformed emails. Dudes. Sending a plain text email is really
simple, there's no excuse for it to look like your cat took a nap on
the tab key. I'm not chiding anyone for neglecting to test every
email "blast" they send (because I'd be that lazy) but I am chiding
folks for not testing it once. Writing a text file and sending it
isn't that hard.
Reimplementation of email. I really hate getting facebook messages,
and direct messages on [microblogging service], and each and every
other fucking social networking site. Just send me email. Real
email. It works, I have a good process for dealing with it, and I
don't have to screw around with anything. Thanks.
The Twitter Fail Whale. Dudes. There was a while about a year ago,
when a bunch of geeks were sitting around and thinking, "you know
this twitter technology is going to be really cool, and there are a
lot of possibilities here," and there were, and I suppose there
still are, but the truth is that I see the fail whale several times
every day, and most of the cool things that I wanted to see in
twitter two years ago and then a year ago (real xmpp support, track,
federation, custom filtered feeds (a la LJ-style friends' filters),)
still haven't materialized. I think the addition of
OAuth is a great thing, but it's a baby step.
The continued prevalence of IRC. Dudes discover
jabber/xmpp. Thanks. A while back, I had a lot of nostalgia for IRC, and
its true that IRC has a lot of history and is a standard to be
reckoned with, but jabber is so much more elegant, secure, and
provides features (persistence, logging, independence, etc) without
having net-splits and complicated ad hoc registration schemes.
That's all for now. What do you hate about the internet?
note:
I watched the Helvetica movie a few
weeks back and I wanted to say, friends, it changed my world.
For those of you haven't heard about Helvetica, which I suspect covers
most of you (however, I suspect more of you have heard/seen this movie
than the general public, because I think you all are just that
cook. at any rate,) it's a documentary that covers design, typography,
modernism, post-modernism, and contemporary trends in art/design, all
vis a vis the now-52-year-old typeface "Helvetica" which had a
profound impact on the last half-century of visual culture.
For real. 90 minutes of a movie about a font face.
And you think this might be boring or get old after a while, but
somehow it doesn't. And not only does it not get old, it soaks into
your perceptions for a long time afterwords.
The thing about helvetica, perhaps its largest strength, is that it
blends into the background, that it's value-neutral, and that it is
all over the freakin' place. Seriously. The side effect of this is
that we don't end up "seeing" it very much, and the movie shines a
light on Helvetica and suddenly I've found it possible to see it
everywhere. Everywhere.
And if nothing else, I think its sort of cool to be able to see
differences and depths in this thing that sort of exists to be
neutral. So that's cool.
And. That's about it.
Stop looking at me like that.
essay:
on git: in two parts
A post about the distributed version control system
"git" in two parts.
Part One: Git Puns
My identi.ca buddy madalu and frequent
commenter here posted a few weeks ago the following
notice:
#ubuntu-one... No thanks! I'll stick with my home-brewed git +
server + usb drive solution. My git repos breed like rabbits!
Which basically sums up my opinion on
ubuntuone. But
I thought that the "my git repos breed like rabbits" was both accurate
(git repositories are designed to be replicated in their entirety),
and a sort of funny way to put it. And being the kind of person that I
am, I decided to see what other (potentially dirty) puns I could make
about git. Here's what I came up with:
what did one git repo say to another git repo? pull my diff
what did mama git say when she found her remote in his room making
new branches? octopus merge this instant!
what did one git remote say to entice another remote to branch? it's
ok we can just tell them we were cherry picking later.
what did dr. git say when a repo complained of bloating? git gc
I should point out that these four puns all demonstrate a factual
feature of git, though the "pull my diff" isn't exactly what happens.
"Octopus Merge" is the method that git uses when there are a lot of
divergent branches (more than three) that need to be merged
together. Similarly "cherry picking" is a way to manually select what
changes get merged together if you're not ready to do full merges, and
git gc is the cleanup script that goes through and re-compresses and
prunes the database so that your repo works faster and with less disk
space.
Anyway, I'm out of puns, you all are welcome to join in.
Part Two: Atypical uses of Git.
I'm sure I've written a bunch here about how I'm not really a
programmer, and while this is true I do use git a lot. In part I think
this is because git is really mostly an ad-hoc file system and also
given how I write, the kind of writing I do isn't that different
from programming.
So aside from storing my writing projects, and my
orgmode, I do things like store all of my
mail directories in git. Which you might think is kind of
weird, but the truth is
that it makes keeping lots of computers in sync a rather simple
proposition, and its damn fast.
I also have a directory I call "garen" (but used to call "main") that
is basically my home directory. It has all my emacs lisp files, most
of my non-mail related scripts, various configuration files. and so
forth. It started out as a backup and workspace for smaller projects,
but it's since morphed into "that one thing I need to have of my
computer in order to actually work." When I was setting up the
server
it took a thousand things that might have been huge headaches and made
them non-issues. Here's what this repo looks like:
- emacs/ This is where my emacs-lisp files all live. I have a
'init.el' file which is basically the standard .emacs file, and a
'gui-init.el' file for code that I only want to run if I'm running
desktop where I'll be running non-console emacs frames. As a result
on my machines my .emacs file looks like this:
(load "~/garen/emacs/gui-init.el")
(load "~/garen/emacs/init.el")
With the first line commented out if needed. End result, emacs loads
the same everywhere, no thinking.
scripts/ I add this to my path, so that any little bit of bash
script that I want to be able to use is accessable and the same on
all my machines.
configs/ Generally my format is to have
config_file.machine_name, for example: bashrc.leibniz. In the case
of the bashrc, I have a ".common" file that has everything that all
my machines need, while the machine specific files have everything
that's... well specific, and a source statement for the common
file. So my "real" .bashrc looks like this:
source /home/tychoish/garen/configs/bashrc.leibniz
And everything stays in sync between the machines. How cool is
that.
That's sort of the most important thing. The great thing is that this
makes setting up a new user account on a server, or a box itself a
piece of cake.
Food for thought!
note:
Monday morning, before I left St. Louis, the trash truck or
something took out the phone line behind the house. The phone line
which carries the internet. Sigh. So while I've been driving and
have been somewhat out of touch, by the nature of this whole
process, the fact that the internet died didn't help things. Sorry
for the lack of posts.
The midwest (particular the northern and parts that I'm most
familiar) is, on the whole, incredibly boring to drive through. Not
stunningly boring, but not that bad. By the time you get to eastern
Ohio, however, things start to get interesting. The miles and miles
of corn fields interspersed with the lone standing tree and
occasional soybean crop--you know you're in trouble when soybeans
come as a refreshing change of pace--were replaced with rolling
hills, mountains, and the like.
To make up for this, however, it did seem that they were doing a lot
of construction/road repair for very little improvement. Parts of
the eastern edge of the turnpike were actually pretty good: modern,
pretty wide, in good repair; other parts, not so much.
Although, to be sure, heading east was much better than heading
west. Better to get the bland out of the way first, and have
something interesting at the end.
I met Chris for the first time, in the
flesh. Dude. This requires it's own sublist:
I think the common perception is that things that happen in
meatspace are somehow more authentic, and meaningful, and "real"
than conversations that happen on line, and often I'd agree. While
I'm certainly not complaining about the real-life experience, I
do think that there are some distinct disadvantages:
It's hard to share links in meatspace, and so "hey I was
reading this thing, here's a link, and I thought that it was
nifty and has implications for ____" becomes, not a stepping
stone for another thought, but an exercise in "hell, I read
something not that long ago and thought it seemed relevant.
Chris and I tend to have these interleaved conversations where
we'll sort of drift through a few topics at once, and because
at least in an ephemeral sort of way chats are logged, it's
hard to interrupt the other person, even if there are a couple
of threads of quasi-related material on the table at
once. Without the benefit of a running transcript you have to
remember more and that's weird, or at least it feels weird in
this context. I'll adjust I'm sure.
On the whole, he is (and the occasion was) pretty much what I
expected. I've had this theory about "how people turn out to
really be in reality versus how they seem online," which is that
after enough time (months/years) it's pretty hard to maintain any
sort of ruse or false facade. Sure, people lie, and people lie in
real life, but those amount to little surprises. Big surprises?
Unlikely. That held true.
The cats have been reasonably cooperative. They're sort of scared of
the outside, and were made nervous by the whole
experience. Thankfully their response was to cower/sleep in the
carrier and not make a lot of noise. I'm leaving them with M.N. in
Philadelphia for a night or two while I secure digs for us in New
Jersey.
M.N. and I will have a couple of opportunities this weekend to do
shape note singing. Woot!
It's nice to know that summer, even early summer, isn't quite as
brutal everywhere as it is in St. Louis (or the other places where
I've (semi)recently spent my summers: Kansas City, Nashville, and
St. Louis of course.) Between that and the Wisconsin winter
tolerance, which hasn't yet worn off, I think I have a freakishly
broad temperature tolerance.
Eastern time is weird. Though, at least for a little while, I like
it because it sort of means that my body doesn't quite get that it's
daylight savings time. And there are very few things that I hate
more than daylight savings time.
And I think, that's all the news that's fit to print.
Edited to add: I'm going to continue such musing regarding my
current state over on my live
journal which seems the more
appropriate venue for this kind of blathering. Real post tomorrow. I swear.
note:
Because I'm moving soon (eep.) I've realized that we needed to get a new
bed. See my existing bed--now, nearly ten years old--was wedged into
the room in my parents house that it is currently in, with some
force, and we very much doubt that said bed will ever be able to be
removed, given the shape and location of the doorway.
Anyway, so I went to our local furniture store the other day to scope
out and price mattresses and box-springs. This furniture store is this
outlet-like store that's pretty near to where my parents live, and
over the past ten or twelve years we've gotten a fair number of things
there, so much so that there's a sales guy that recognizes my mother
and I when we enter.
So we go in, and I try and make a b-line for the mattress section,
when we were acosted by a very helpful sales guy (not our usual
victim) and he hovered around telling us way too much about the
inner workings of the mattresses, even after I tried to make it clear
that: a) I wasn't likely to buy the mattress today, b) I just wanted
to feel where my price point was.
I should interject two things, one that I sleep on my stomach, and two
that I tend to sleep with my feet hanging off the end of the
bed.
So after a while of looking around and hoping that the dude would get
the picture and leave me alone, he finally suggested that I try a
particular bed out.
"Ok," I said, and face planted side ways (so that I was running
parallel to the imaginary headboard) onto a sort of mid-to-high
end off-brand mattress. "Hey," I said, after a moment, "That's pretty
good,"
"Uh," he said, "Is that how you usually sleep on beds?"
I was speechless. Not only was he hovering but he was judging me for
how I was laying down on beds. Now to be fair I don't typically lay on
beds cross-ways except for naps when I'm really tired, but still it
seemed out of place, particularly since he'd been so accommodating and
attentive henceforth.
Sigh.
note:
Deep Breath.
I have news for you all which I hope will explain my absence for the
past 10 or 15 days. Actually I'm surprised that it's only been 10 or
15 days, as it feels so much longer. Anyway, enough suspense:
I've accepted a position with Linode to work
on (primarily) a really cool technical writing project. You can see
the announcement
here.
This is really awesome because:
It's a job. Writing. About Linux, and Web Servers, and Free
Software/Open Source.
Linode rocks. I applied for the job somewhat before I bought a
linode, and I've been nothing but pleased with the service which has
worked flawlessly for me so far. The best part, is I think that
Linode's approach to technology, to using and developing technology,
really fits in with the kinds of values and approaches that I hold.
Did I mention it's a writing job where I get to work with Linux and
free software?
It puts me on the east coast, near Philadelphia, where the largest
concentration of my non-College friends are located, which has me
unbelievably excited. I'll be able to gossip and dance with
M.N. more than once a year; I'll be able to hang out and with my
emergency-backup-big-sister (H.C.) more often; it'll be feasible to
hang out with Chris you know
ever and more. I'm so psyched.
Did I mention it's a writing job where I get to work with Linux and
free software?
The astute among you will thus, notice that:
New job elsewhere means relocation. Which means.
I've been busy doing all of the relocation things: packing, doing
this and that's, more packing, getting paperwork in order, even more
packing, and so forth that I've not been really good at keeping on
top of the blog. I have a couple of entries stashed, but my rhythm
is all off kilter.
The job announcement has my real name in it. I have an abandoned a
post or two about the whole tycho/sam thing. I should perhaps
restart it. I think what I really need is this highly mythologized
about page that talks about tycho
and sam in different voices.
The truth is, that while I don't think my reasons for using "tycho
garen" these days is the same as it was 2.5 or 3 years ago, but I
really like what I've done with the whole tycho thing, and I can't
really imagine not using it.
- In a lot of ways, I think, writing this blog for so long is a lot of
the reason why I was able to get this job, both because through the
experience of writing about technology for the blog gave me the
confidence/knowledge/skills that make this tech-writing thing I do
possible, and also the blog I think served to demonstrate that I was
for real.
This is related to another train of thought that I hope to follow up
on in the next few months somewhere, but it strikes me that this, if
anything is a marker of success that we're not particularly prone to
attending too. We notice successful blogs that get millions of
visits a month and can support their authors on advertising revenue
and invited speaking engagements. I think that I've achieved some
kind of success here, and there are other kinds of success to be
had. I want to think about what this means. But first I want to sit
with this.
I'll be in touch, and I look forward to continuing this blog in this
"next part" of my journey.
Cheers!
essay:
I've been writing for weeks and weeks about co-ops, authentic exchange
and commerce, the practice of openness and business models, and other
related topics. Between the crashing economy, my ongoing contemplation
of open source, and a new project that I'm almost ready to
announce, thinking about the substance of economies and the power of
economies to define other aspect of our social experience has seemed
really appealing. And it has been.
I came across this article by Jason
Stoddard
a while back, and I've realized that I would be remiss in these posts,
if I didn't somehow tie it into writing and science fiction, and
Stoddard's post provides a great hook into this connection. He's also,
basically spot on right.
Interestingly, the beginning of this series grew out of my experiences
reading Kim Stanley Robinson's "Mars Trilogy," which spent a lot of
time (particularly in the last two volumes) contemplating
corporations and capitalism. Indeed, in the Mars books, Robinson
posits what some readers (without careful examination) might think of
as the typical "evil mega-corporations."
Though I think he succeeds at avoiding the traps of having as villains
"scheming business people in suits," by making sure that none of the
executives appear in the stories. The closest we get to having a
"corporate villain," is a character who allies themselves with the
corporations for personal advancement. The result is that, the
corporations lumber around, always doing the wrong thing, always
getting in the way of the main characters, but they never loose the
extra-human nature of being corporations.
Maybe that's part of the problem with writing fiction about
corporations. Fiction tends to revolve around people and social
systems of comprehensible complexity and corporations are shaped and
steered by a great number of people, and there's too much complexity
in corporations to really capture accurately in fiction.
While Stoddard's argument (Corporations exist to make money, they're
not evil by nature) is factually true and good advice to anyone
writing 'corporate drama' fiction, I think writers (and the rest of
us) might benefit from thinking about some other "nitty gritty"
aspects of corporations. Just because corporations may be "generally a
bad thing in the world," difficult to write about, and "not simply
evil for the purposes of fiction" nonetheless I think it is important
to think about the social/political effect corporations and to write
about them in fiction.
The following list is rough, and incomplete, and I encourage you all
to help me out in comments!
Corporations have a few overriding drives: to grow, to make profit
(both by minimizing expenses and by increasing revenue), and to
continue to exist. All actions and strategies undertaken by
corporations should make sense in context of one or more of these
drives.
Corporate cultures are largely self selecting, so "radicals" in
corporate settings are really unlikely, either because they're
likely to leave or because their self-interest eventually falls in
line with the company's interest.
Corporations employ huge numbers of people, but we can assume that
the number of people at any given company doing things that support
the main mission of a company but that aren't "the thing the company
does." Phyisical Plant "things," clerical tasks, human resources,
"infrastructure," operations/financial tasks, internal legal work,
and so forth. Probably as much as a quarter or a third of the staff
probably falls into one of these categories.
Corporations are rarely unilateral. Ever. They have many operations,
many projects, many divisions, and thus can be resilient to things
changing "around them." This also means that coorporations are less
likely to take umbrage at potentially threatening individuals and
companies, than a single individual would in a similar situation.
Career advancement, in companies or elsewhere, generally happens to
some greater or lesser extent by moving horizontally between
companies rather than "through the ranks."
The bigger the corporation the more specialized the roles of the
workforce would tend to be.
For the most part, I think it safe to assume that most corporations
don't have a great deal of "classified" information, or information
that's heavily embargoed. This comes as a great blow to conspiracy
theorists, but secrets are hard to keep with regards to projects
that a lot of people need to know about, and if all the other things
we know about corporations are true (size, attrition, etc.) "great
secrets" are unlikely to remain great secrets for long.
In light of all these things I think there are a lot of opportunities
for realistic story telling, but it's not always so straight forward.
In anycase, I look forward to thinking about this some more with you.
essay:
One element that has been largely missing from my ongoing rambling
analysis of economies, corporations, co-ops, and institutions has been
higher education and universities. Of course Universities are
institutions, and function in many ways like large
corporations,
but, nostalgia notwithstanding, I don't think it's really possible to
exempt Universities or dismiss them from this conversation.
Oh, and, there was this rather interesting--but remarkably
mundane--article that I clipped
recently
about that addressed where universities are "going" in the next decade
or two. I say mundane, because I think the "look there's new
technology that's changing the rules game" is crappy futurism, and
really fails to get at the core of what kinds of developments we may
expect to see in the coming years.
Nevertheless... Shall we begin? I think so:
The expansion of university in the last 60 years, or so, has been
fueled by the GI-Bill and the expansion of the student-loan
industry. With the "population bubble" changing, and the credit
market changing, universities will have to change. How they change
is of course up in the air.
There aren't many alternatives to "liberal arts/general education"
post-secondary education for people who don't want, need, or have
the preparation for that kind of education at age 18. While I'm a
big proponent (and product of) a liberal arts education, there are
many paths to becoming a well rounded and well educated adult, and
they don't all lead through traditional-four-year college educations
(or equivalents, particularly at age 18.)
Technology is changing higher education and scholarship, already,
with all likelihood faster than technology has been and is changing
other aspects of our culture (publishing, media production, civic
engagement, etc.). Like all of these developments of culture,
however, the changes in higher education are probably not as
revolutionary as the article suggests.
There will probably always be a way in which degree granting
institutions will be a "useful" part of our society, but I think
"The College," will probably change significantly, but I think
forthcoming changes probably have less to do with education and the
classroom, and more to do with the evolving role of the faculty.
As part of the decline of tenure-systems, I expect that eventually
we'll see a greater separation (but not total disconnect) between
the institutions which employ and sponsor scholarship, and the
institutions that educate students.
It strikes me that most of the systems that universities use to
convey education online (Blackboard, moodle, etc.,) are hopelessly
flawed. Either by virtue of being difficult and "gawky" to use, or
because they're proprietary systems, or that they're not designed
for the task at hand, all of the systems that I'm aware of are as
much roadblocks to the adoption of new technology in education as
anything else.
Although quality information (effectively presented, even) is
increasingly available online for free, what makes this information
valuable in the university setting, including interactivity, feedback on
progress, individual attention, validation and certification of
mastery, are all of the things that universities (particularly
"research"-grade institutions) perform least successfully at.
We've been seeing research and popular press stuff on the phenomena
of "prolonged adolescence," where young people tend to have a period
of several years post-graduation where they have to figure out "what
next," sometimes there's graduate school, sometimes there's odd
jobs. I've become convinced that in an effort to help fill the gap
between "vocational education" and "liberal arts/gen ed." we've
gotten to the point where we ask people who are 18 (and don't have a
clue what they want to do with their lives, for the most part) to
make decisions about their careers that are pretty absurd. Other
kinds of educational options should exist, that might help resolve
this issue.
Interestingly these thoughts didn't have very much to do with
technology. I guess I mostly feel that the changes in technology are
secondary to the larger economic forces likely to affect universities
in the coming years. Unless the singularity comes
first
Your thoughts, as always, are more than welcome.
essay:
I ran across this smear piece with regards to Ubuntu users from the
perspective of a seasoned Linux
user,
which I think resonates both with the problem of treating your users
like idiots and
differently with the kerfuffle over ubuntu
one, though
this post is a direct sequel to neither post.
The article in question makes critique (sort of) that a little bit of
knowledge is a terrible thing, and that by making Linux/Unix open to
a less technical swath of users, that the quality of the discourse
around the linux world has taken a nose dive. It's a sort of "grumble
grumble get off my lawn, kid," sort of argument, and while the elitist
approach is off-putting (but total par for the course in hacker
communities,) I think the post does resonate with a couple of very
real phenomena:
Ubuntu has led the way for Linux to become a viable option for
advanced beginner and intermediate computer users. Particularly
since the beginning of 2008 (eg. the 8.04 release). Ubuntu just
works, and a lot of people who know their way around a keyboard and
a mouse are and can be comfortable using Linux for most of their
computing tasks. This necessarily changes the makeup of the typical
"Linux User" quite a bit, and I think welcoming these people into
the fold can be a challenge, particularly for the more advanced
users who have come to expect something very different from the
"Linux Community."
This is mostly Microsoft's fault, but people who started
using--likely Windows powered--computers in the nineties (which is
a huge portion of people out there), being an 'intermediate' means
a much different kind of understanding that "old school" Linux
users have.
Using a Windows machine effectively, and knowing how to use one of
these systems, revolves around knowing what controls are where in
the control panel, around being able to "guess" where various
settings are within applications, knowing how to keep track of
windows that aren't visible, understanding the hierarchy of the
file system, and knowing to reboot early and often. By contrast,
using a Linux Machine effectively revolves around understanding
the user/group/file permissions system, understanding the
architecture of the system/desktop stack, knowing your way around a
command line window, and the package manager, and knowing how to
edit configuration files if needed.
In short, skills aren't as transferable between operating systems
as they may have once been.
Ubuntu, for it's flaws (tenuous relationship with the Debian Project,
peculiar release cycle), seems to know what it takes to make a system
usable with very little upfront cost: How the installer needs to work,
how to provide and organize the graphical configuration tools, and how
to provide a base installation that is familiar and functional to a
broad swath of potential users.
While this does change the dynamic of the community, it's also the
only way that linux on the desktop is going to grow. The transition
between windows power user and linux user is not a direct
one. (While arguably the transition between OS X and Linux is reasonably
straight forward.) The new people who come to the linux desktop are
by-and-large going to be users who are quite different from the folks
who have historically used Linux.
At the same time, one of the magical things about free software is
that the very act of using free software educates users about how
their software works and how their machines work. The cause of this is
partially intentional, partly by virtue of the fact that much free
software is designed to be used by the people who wrote the software,
and partly because of free software's adoptive home of UNIX-liken
systems. Regardless of the reason however, we can expect that even the
most "n00bish" of users to eventually become more skilled and
knowledgeable.
Having said that, in direct response to the article in
question,
even though I'm a huge devote of a "real" text editor, might it be the
case that the era of the "do everything text editor" may be coming to
an end? My thought is not that emacs and vi are no longer applicable,
but the truth is that building specialized domain specific editing
applications is easy enough that building such editing applications
inside of vi/emacs doesn't make the same sort of sense that it made a
twenty or thirty years ago? Sure a class of programmers will probably
always use emacs, or something like it, but I think the change of
emacs being supplanted by things-that-aren't editors, say, is
something that isn't too difficult to imagine.
If the singularity doesn't come
first, that
is.