Posted on Mon Jun 25, 2018
So there is this programming language… it is called Gravity. It is nice and small. Its creator has an italian name, which is a rarity. This language is tempting me. A subnetwork in my brain is telling me to try it and maybe write some simple library for it… let’s say… an interface to Libcurl.
That’s the way it is. Brains. Neurons. Connections. Flow of thoughts. Self consciousness. Remorse. Adding new complications is easier than solving old ones. Is there really something called free will?
I have already written a number of libraries for non–mainstream languages. This desire follows my patterns: I do what I already know how–to–do. I take you down the only road I’ve ever been down.
How would it be different from reading a book that tells the nth reinstantiation of the same story? First, in my culture there is no shame in reading books; that is a big difference. Reading a book is not a waste of time, while writing a blob of software that nobody uses is, because… just because.
I already have other projects in fieri. I will try to resist Gravity.