The Ritter Report

Money Streaming

2009-04-19T06:18:00.000-07:00

This is a rehash of an idea that I had a few years ago, and it deals with super fast monetary transactions.

I don't want to say that this is a viable solution, it's more like a philosophical thought experiment: what would it lead to?

Right now, our money system is slow. When I send money to you through my bank, in e.g. Germany, it may take about two to three days for you to receive it. When I pay you by credit card, the transfer is instant, but it's actually not being debited from my account instantly, but a bit later.

Let's say our transactional system were super fast instead, so that it would take less than a second to transfer money from me to you. We would have close to no latency for any payment.

Let's further assume that there would even be no per-transaction setup overhead, like writing down the amount of money and an IBAN into a form and hitting "Send". Instead, we would make use of direct debit flows, where, once set up, money trickles from and to me.

As an example, my wage would not be payed by month, but by the second. Likewise, I would pay my rent per second, as well as my internet, my phone bill, my policies.

If there were any shortage of money encountered, it would be temporary, for a few seconds. If work everywhere is payed by an instant, I could also do a five minute job to replenish my resources for a short time.

Money streaming would work for both individuals as well as companies.

We would get used to small numbers being handled, and we could actually express our wellbeing in revenue/cost per second ratios. If my ratio were high, I would accumulate wealth. Likewise, if my ratio were low, I would lose money. My ratio would immediately show how I would be doing financially, and I could act on my situation early, and prevent debt.

There would no longer be sudden bursts of bills and invoices, accumulation of debt happens virtually in real time - right when an income flow stops, a red light would turn on, and something could be done about it in a short amount of time.

A lot of offerings would be based on per-second transactions fees. Renting technical equipment would become a standard, where we would pay fees directly as a machine works for us. The same would go for any other kind of service.

Micropayment would actually work.

Jesus Liebt Mich

2009-04-19T04:45:00.001-07:00

jesus liebt mich
jesus hat mich lieb
ich kann froh sein
dass es jesus gibt

jesus hilft mir
er ist für mich da
oh ein wunder!
ob das jesus war?

vom traualtar zum totenbett stehn hundertausend kerzen
ein alter mann vergeht während ein neues kind schreit
der heiland wandert übers land und segnet unsre herzen
und alles jubelt laut: freue dich - oh christenheit

er bringt licht
in die dunkelheit
und er führt mich
in die ewigkeit

seine worte
find ich alle gut
ich will leben
wie es jesus tut

und überall erheben sich in scharen die propheten
auf plätzen und altaren brennen berge voll geld
der heiland wird nun überall von tausenden vertreten
und wunder über wunder tun sich auf in der welt

Wir haben keine Web-Abteilung

2009-04-08T23:21:00.001-07:00

C: SCHMIDT! Kommen Sie mal bitte!

S: Was gibt es denn?

C: Sehen Sie sich das hier einmal auf dem Bildschirm an.

S: Stimmt denn etwas nicht?

C: Die benutzen unseren Namen.

S: Pardon?

C: Die benutzen ganz klar unseren Namen. So eine Unverfrorenheit.

S: Aber, aber das ist doch unsere Homepage?

C: Wir haben keine Homepage! Ich habe keine Homepage autorisiert!

S: Aber doch, Herr Lüdendorff, das ist unsere Homepage!

C: Wer soll die gemacht haben?!

S: Die Web-Abteilung!

C: Was für eine Web-Abteilung? Wir haben keine Web-Abteilung!

S: Aber dort drüben sitzt doch der Herr Wirsing.

C: Wer soll das sein? Wer ist der Kerl?

S: Herr Lüdendorff, das ist Herr Wirsing von der Web-Abteilung.

C: Was faseln Sie da zusammen, sind sie wahnsinnig geworden?

S: Aber das ist bestimmt ein Missverständnis, sehen Sie...

C: Glauben Sie ich habe keine Augen im Kopf, um das ganz klar zu sehen, dass hier, dass hier unsere intellektuelle Property infringed wurde? So eine unglaubliche Unverfrorenheit.

S: Herr Lüdendorff...

C: Jetzt sehen Sie sich das an...

S: ...Herr Wirsing von der Web-Abteilung...

C: ...unser ganzes Portfolio haben die kopiert!...

S: ...wurde neu eingestellt, um die...

C: ...sogar unsere Anschrift haben die eingetragen!

S: ...Website neu zu gestalten, weil...

C: ICH FASS ES NICHT! HIER IST SOGAR EIN BRIEF VON MIR AUF DER SEITE!

S: Den haben Sie eigens für...

C: DAS WIRD TEUER SAG ICH IHNEN. DAS WIRD NICHT BILLIG.

S: ...Ihre Unterschrift...

C: GANZ GENAU! Haarklein bis ins Detail, diese Räuber! Diese Bastarde!

S: ...kein Grund zu klagen, weil...

C: SCHMIDT! Hören Sie auf mit der Faselei und holen Sie mir unseren Anwalt her!

S: ...ins Impressum schauen, sehen Sie...

C: S O F O R T !

S: Sehr wohl. *seufzt*

C: Die machen wir platt. Die werden zahlen, bis Sie sich Taschen ins eigene Fleisch schneiden müssen!

Ein Tag vergeht

C: SCHMIDT! KOMMEN SIE SCHNELL! WIR WURDEN VERKLAGT!

Deutschlands schönste Gipfelgeschichten, Teil 5

2009-03-13T08:39:00.000-07:00

Auf der Spitze des Himalayas steht ein Himbeerstrauch. Neben dem Himbeerstrauch steht ein Automechaniker mit einer Gießkanne in der Hand. Ins Bild kommt ein Politiker einer namhaften Partei.

Automechaniker: Ein Politiker? Auf dem Himalaya?
Politiker: Wieso nicht?
Automechaniker: Ja ist das denn gut?
Politiker: Nun, die Frage, mein lieber Herr... Herr...
Automechaniker: Mein Name steht auf meinem Schild.
Politiker: Ich sehe kein Schild. Da ist kein Schild.

Der Automechaniker dreht sich herum, und auf seinem Hintern ist ein Namensschild angebracht.

Politiker: Warum haben Sie denn das Schild so unhandlich angebracht?
Automechaniker: Das war ich nicht. Ich habe den Anzug schon so bekommen.

Der Politiker bückt sich und liest laut.

Politiker: "ICH WAR HIER" - das ist doch aber nicht Ihr Name?
Automechaniker: Oh. Verzeihung. Der steht natürlich hier.

Der Automechaniker dreht sich wieder zurück und deutet auf das Schild auf seiner Brust.

Politiker: Da war doch eben noch garkein Schild!
Automechaniker: Das ist richtig.
Politiker: Ich lasse mich von ihnen doch nicht vergackeiern!
Automechaniker: Wie bitte?
Politiker: Ich lasse mich von ihnen doch nicht vergackeiern!
Automechaniker: Offensichtlich schon. Ich dachte, sie wollten meinen Namen wissen.
Politiker: Es wäre einfacher gewesen, sie hätten mir ihren Namen einfach mitgeteilt.
Automechaniker: Stimmt. Mein Name lautet: Johannes Brahms.
Politiker: Brahms? Wie der Komponist?
Automechaniker: Ich bin Komponist.
Politiker: Warum tragen Sie dann einen Blaumann?
Automechaniker: Ich kann anziehen, was ich möchte.
Politiker: Und wozu die Gießkanne?
Automechaniker: Das ist privat.
Politiker: Verstehe. Sie gießen damit den Himbeerstrauch.
Automechaniker: Nein. Ich habe ihn schon gegossen.
Politiker: Was machen sie hier überhaupt?
Automechaniker: Das selbe könnte ich sie fragen!
Politiker: Fragen sie doch!
Automechaniker: Was machen sie hier überhaupt?
Politiker: Ich sammle Wählerstimmen.
Automechaniker: Aber wir sind doch im Ausland.
Politiker: Noch.
Automechaniker: Das klingt komisch, wie sie das sagen: noch.
Politiker: (etwas forscher) Noch!
Automechaniker: Das klingt schon besser.
Politiker: Möchten Sie mein Rethoriklehrer werden?
Automechaniker: Ungern.
Politiker: Ich flehe sie an.
Automechaniker: Ich bin Automechaniker.
Politiker: Sagten sie nicht, sie seien Komponist?
Automechaniker: Nur halbtags. Davon kann ja keiner leben.
Politiker: Rethoriklehrer verdienen aber mehr.
Automechaniker: Wieviel?
Politiker: 500 Euro pro Tag.
Automechaniker: Sie lügen.
Politiker: Keineswegs.
Automechaniker: Ich sage zu. Wenn ich per Vorkasse bezahlt werde.

Der Politiker zieht den Himbeerstrauch aus der Erde.

Automechaniker: Um Gottes Willen, der Himbeerstrauch!

Der Politiker bückt sich und nimmt aus dem Erdloch 500 Euro.

Politiker: Erdlochentnahme 500 Euro. Bitte hier.
Automechaniker: Sie haben meinen Himbeerstrauch ruiniert.
Politiker: Das war doch garnicht ihrer.
Automechaniker: Aber ich habe ihn geliebt wie meinen eigenen.
Politiker: Von den 500 Euro können sie sich so viele Himbeersträucher kaufen wie sie möchten.
Automechaniker: Aber nicht diesen!

Der Politiker pflanzt den Himbeerstrauch wieder ein. Der Himbeerstrauch fällt um. Der Politiker richtet ihn wieder auf. Der Himbeerstrauch fällt um.

Automechaniker: Gehen sie mir aus den Augen sie Mörder.
Politiker: Geben Sie mir mein Geld zurück.
Automechaniker: Keinesfalls.

Der Politiker zückt eine Knarre und erschießt den Automechaniker.

Automechaniker: Korruptes Schwein!

Der Automechaniker stirbt. Der Politiker nimmt ihm das Geld aus der Hand und will gehen,
wird aber vom Himbeerstrauch schreiend erwürgt. Ende.

Thoughts on St. John's Wort

2009-02-18T11:01:00.001-08:00

Today, I took my first pill. Nothing illegal. It is from a package of St. John's Wort, which Sylvia bought for me. It costs about €36 and contains 60 pills. I'm supposed to take one pill each day. Each pill, huge and yellow, contains about 900mg of dried St. John's Wort, and the purpose of the pill is to help me getting out of mild depression.

I regard myself as an often unhappy person, and Sylvia is pretty much like me. Actually she not only thinks that she feels worse than I do, but she also feels bad about feeling bad. She does not want anybody to know how she feels. So please keep this a secret between you and me, okay?

So I'm on the drug right now. The package insert says that I'm supposed to feel first improvements after about 14 days, but, strangely enough, the drug has an immediate effect, and being a sensitive person, I noticed pretty quickly.

I would compare it to a very mild dose of ecstasy. Sensations on the skin are amplified. Smelling is enhanced. I can feel my body better. I feel like I'm more in the moment, as if a veil has been lifted from me. The usual tiredness of a workday is almost unnoticeable. Back at work, I even felt a silent rush of euphoria. Nothing overwhelming, just a kind of "ON" feeling. Like I'm actually there, in the present, taking part in life as a real being.

Sylvia feels like shit right now, because she can't go with me. She is on the "anti baby pill". Being on the pill, she can't take St. John's Wort. Using this natural antidepressant, she would certainly be less depressed, but more pregnant. I don't mind that. I would love to have a baby. But she's studying right now, and she's convinced that it would ruin her career. I don't know. Perhaps it does.

Now when we have sex, it's beautiful. It's beautiful, but short - that's my fault, I'm sorry. And we only sleep with each other on the weekends. We hug and kiss a lot, but I feel like we are supposed to have more fun in bed. And I think that it's in some sense my fault as well. I rarely feel like it. I used to be a devil ten years ago.

So, not only does the anti baby pill of happiness deny her the yellow pill of happiness, it also gives her nothing because I'm usually not in the mood.

Why is it that I lost my Mojo? I'm constantly feeling stressed out and under pressure. When I feel relaxed and good, and this goes on for a few days, my mojo is coming back. But in a work week? No chance.

I weigh about 120kg. This used to be different. I love to eat, and I certainly eat too much. Sometimes I feel like I'm trying to eat happiness., as if the food was "the happy stuff", and eating it would make me happy as well. But once it's in my stomach, I feel blown up and sedated. I know from experience that when I'm happier, I eat less. When Sylvia and I started meeting each other, I lost about 10kg out of lovesickness.

But! If everything goes to my calculations, the antidepressant will make me happier. I will eat less. I will have more interest in Snusnu. She will enjoy it as well. And her anti baby pill will pay off. Let's hope this equation makes sense in some way.

There is still a lingering moral question here: Is it bad to take a drug that aids you in enjoying life more? Aren't you supposed to feel right without anything else? Everybody feels down once in a while, right? We're all stressed out, right? We take it with pride!

I somehow think that a drug, legal or illegal, is simply just another tool in the human toolbox, like contact lenses or clothing. Everybody is dependent on a multitude of things. We are the tool-enhanced beings. And we are willingly taking part in a vicious circle. We use tools to heighten our chances of survival and fertility. Natural selection now also favors the less favored. We lose hair because we don't need them. Our eyesight deteriorates, because it does not matter anymore. We change our landscape. We move into cities. We get less sunlight, more smog, more dirt. The things that used to make us happy are now amiss. The pills help us to new joys: having sex as much as we want. Feeling good, even in a city full of noises and dirt, without the naturally pleasing aesthetics of wide open fields and clear rivers.

I hope that you can see this as another one of these inconvenient truths. It feels like we are supposed to turn back time, at least in some regards. We must bring the countryside to the cities. We must learn to rediscover our free time. The 8/5 work week is a terrible invention, and we must find a way to overcome this situation.

I feel as if we never left the middle ages. We should be looking back and thinking: wow, good that this gruesome period is over, with its diseases and witch burnings. But instead we re-imagine the past as fantasy. Millions play World of Warcraft. I would love to be in this world of nature and quests, if it only were real - and if it only had less battles.

We still have no other choice but to love right now, right here. There is still enough left to like, and it awaits discovery. I'm a temporal being. I can't hold on to the moment. Everything that is precious passes, and, luckily, so does everything that is painful.

My plan is to take St. John's Wort each day until I have no more pills. Judging from some reports that I read, I'm supposed to feel a strong withdrawal symptom: a tough depression that will bring me into fetal position, crying for hours. I'm looking forward to it.

And I'll keep you posted.

Short Story: Blah and Order

2009-02-10T14:46:00.000-08:00

I remember that I was sitting in the deck chair and sipped at my orange juice. I was contemplating life, as I usually do around noon.

Just when I was about to feel a little bit sorry for myself, something exploded behind me and hurled me forward, over the border of the porch, spilling my juice, spoiling my day. Dark and thick smoke swelled from the front door of my house.

Just when I decided to feel really really sad, another explosion ripped my house apart. The roof went straight into the red evening sky, to the stars and beyond. I had no idea where that came from. The fridge? The oven? The gallons of gas I was storing in a corner of the kitchen?

The sheriff arrived. First he stared with big eyes at what was once my house. Then he lifted his hat with his thumb and said: "Whatever happened, I bet my wooden leg you did something stupid again." I looked at the floor, blushing.

Then I remembered the bag of microwave popcorn I had prepared earlier. Perhaps I did not set the microwave to three minutes. "I guess it was more like thirty minutes" said the sheriff, who likes to eavesdrop on my internal dialogue. "Yes I do." added the sheriff and waited for me to finish the paragraph.

"While you were busy blowing your house up, some criminals robbed the city bank.", the sheriff said. "Thanks to the recession, they only went away with about five dollar, but law and order requires us to go after them anyways."
"Well, that's not proper.", I said.
"What's not proper?", the sheriff asked.
" 'Anyways' is not an English word. If you would drop the S, that could work.", I said.
"Tell you what. I let you do your stupid writing, you let me do my grammar mistakes, okeydoke?", the sheriff said.
"More like spelling errors..."
"Shut your hole and get in the car."

The road was long and bumpy, almost even bumpy and long. The sheriff mumbled stuff that I could not understand. I wondered where I would sleep for the next days, now that my house was blown to pieces by malfunctioning kitchen ware.
"Don't ask me", said the sheriff, "nobody enters my house except me."
"Is it that dirty?", I asked.
"Just keep asking and your face is going to be that dirty. I simply do not want any strangers at my place."
"Well, I'm not a stranger.", I said.
The sheriff looked at me.
"I don't care. Check into some Holiday Inn. I'm booked out."
"You got lucky with the ladies?", I snickered.
"Shut your hole and straighten up. There's the bank."

We got out of the car and walked towards where the sheriff said the bank once was. Now, right where that bank was supposed to be, where I used to kick the ATM machine the final days of each month, something else was there. Something that looked like one of those tellers liked popcorn as much as I did, but did also share my lack of talent for estimating proper timing. Something that looked like, no, actually was a big hole.

"Crap" said the sheriff. The bank was gone.

Hipster: The Dead End of Western Civilization

2009-02-04T23:35:00.001-08:00

Came across this article on adbusters this morning, expressing the authors disdain for a subculture he dubs the "Hipsters". I could not help but think while reading it, and here are my points. First, there is this segment:

Ever since the Allies bombed the Axis into submission, Western civilization has had a succession of counter-culture movements that have energetically challenged the status quo. Each successive decade of the post-war era has seen it smash social standards, riot and fight to revolutionize every aspect of music, art, government and civil society.

But after punk was plasticized and hip hop lost its impetus for social change, all of the formerly dominant streams of “counter-culture” have merged together. Now, one mutating, trans-Atlantic melting pot of styles, tastes and behavior has come to define the generally indefinable idea of the “Hipster.”

Oh come on, as if any subculture has ever been worth embracing. All subcultures have been dead on arrival, and "Hipsters" are no exception. These groups have always grown out of desperate attempts of young people to feel individual, yet be accepted (so a common ground needs to be found), and this will never change, for young people have no history and no experience which they can rely on, and they have a greater thirst for novelty and progress, in whatever shape.

Any revolution in music, art, government and civil rights has been the effort of individuals growing out of these cliques. You are not doing much when you are simply trying to fit in. You need experience and a stable self-identity to advance a culture, and your message must appeal to the majority of the population to be accepted. Need proof? Answer me this then: what kind of subculture has just elected Obama to office?

The American Apparel V-neck shirt, Pabst Blue Ribbon beer and Parliament cigarettes are symbols and icons of working or revolutionary classes that have been appropriated by hipsterdom and drained of meaning. Ten years ago, a man wearing a plain V-neck tee and drinking a Pabst would never be accused of being a trend-follower. But in 2008, such things have become shameless clichés of a class of individuals that seek to escape their own wealth and privilege by immersing themselves in the aesthetic of the working class.

Dear Douglas, what is your problem with wealthy young people wearing working class clothes (besides that's not the first time, look at jeans and cargo pants)? We have always frowned at the upper class trying to distinguish itself by luxurious language, clothing and habits, and now that they flirt with the frugal, you are not feeling well about it either? What do you want, Douglas?

And what kind of meaning did "icons of working classes" have? Is "I have no money to buy expensive clothes and cigarettes" a better message for the people?

Now, I am not defending Hipsters in particular, I am defending all subcultures. I have never quite fit into one of these groups (oh and how I tried!), but I understand their function. I doubt the power of these groups to bring real change, but I believe that their existence is important for a peaceful secular society.

Short Story: The Four Artists

2009-01-25T05:07:00.000-08:00

There once were four artists, whose exact names I do not remember. Let's say their names were Jim, Joe, Jack and Jill. Each one of them had his (and her) own area of expertise: Jim was a writer, Joe was a painter, Jack was a composer, and Jill was a director. The four artists were friends since a long time, and used to meet in a quiet café each Sunday afternoon to talk about world affairs, their personal endeavours and all kinds of philosophical nonsense.

One sunny summer day, the four met at the café as usual, but each one of them had a sad expression on his (and her) face. At first, there was silence at the table. Then Jim sighed, and said:

"I have written over twenty short stories and published them in various local papers. Although I have sent my work to larger newspapers, they have all rejected my work, calling it controversial and too avant-garde.

Now, I am pretty sure that my stories are excellent, and that those guys merely lack taste. I was thinking, perhaps a larger count of pages would attract interest. A novel could be sold directly and on its own. It would not have to fit a particular scope.

So I sat this Saturday in front of my desk and stared at a blank piece of paper. Not a single thought worthy of being pinned down came up. I believe I am out of good ideas."

To all this the others listened and nodded here and there, for they were facing similar troubles.

Joe had bought an enormous canvas, but had spent two days merely standing in front of it and doing nothing but mixing colors, his visionary abilities blocked by his aspiring intentions.

Jack was in pains to write his first musical, but he had not even decided the name of the protagonist. No matter what chords and melodies he tried on his piano, they sounded dull and pointless.

Jill however, was filming material like a madman (or rather: a madwoman). She had collected over sixteen hours of material, but admitted that there was no script. Although the material was intended to inspire the subject of a new script, most of it were shots from outside of her window to the backyard. Jill said that it would be possible to make another movie about a backyard, but that it would hardly beat Alfred Hitchcock's masterpiece "Rear Window".

They were desperate. Again, silence crept in as they stared on the table, idly stirring imaginary sugar in their white coffees. Swarms of dust curled up in warm air. Spoons quietly tinkled in latte glasses. Then Jill broke the silence and began to talk slowly:

"I believe I found a solution to our problem. Now please hear me out. It may sound a little nuts, but it could work. I want to do a documentary about you, Jack, as you write that musical. We can do interviews, where you talk about your inspirations, how you get your ideas, and so on."

"That sounds nice", said Jack, "but that is hardly going to solve our problem. I still do not have a subject for my musical yet, so there is hardly anything to chat about, besides that me in a movie is a ridiculous idea. I am nobody. A movie about me would be", he searched his mind for an appropriate comparison, "like a musical about Jim!"

Jill smiled at Jack and nodded. Jim made a puzzled face. "You must be out of your mind?", said Jack. And then Joe began to laugh, harder and harder, until tears came out his eyes, and the others could not help themselves but to join in. Still chuckling, trying to wipe his tears, Joe said: "I know what to fill my canvas with now." And then, finally, even Jim understood.

What had started as a regular get-together was now a conspirative meeting, full of lively contemplations about goals and details. No tinkles were heard anymore. In the evening, the table was left and empty, but four souls were on their way home, filled with enthusiasm and ardour.

Not much needs to be said about the future of these four. Jim won the national book award for his novel "How to Picture a Movie", a moving love story about an obsessed painter who paints a director at work, over and over again.

It was rumored that the painters character in the book was written after Joe, who toured internationally with his exposition "Her Creative Eye". His paintings were vivid and colorful impressions of a directors work, standing behind the camera, changing her script, interviewing people. It was astounding how breathtakingly accurate he captured facial expressions and gestures within a few strokes.

Since the paintings had a style similar to the late Claude Manet, it was hard to make out faces, but if you looked at the images with pinched eyes, the director looked a bit like Jill, who had just presented her latest documentary in Cannes, titled "Six Months of Melody", a film about the making of a musical.

As promised, the movie was about Jack, from his early experiments on the piano to the final show that premiered on Broadway. His musical was about the struggles of a passionate writer and ended with an ecstatic parade where the protagonist would receive the national book award. The press hailed "Of Lines and Pages" as a joyous and inspiring experience.

Despite all success, the four friends never ceased to meet on Sundays, where they would devise future conspiracies of artistry, but never put any plan into action, no matter how great it was. There was no point in scaling a mountain that they had already peaked. As the grandeur of their ideas provided sufficient satisfaction, their laughter was now the only gift they could give to the world.

What The Prodigy, Aphex Twin and Mel Tormé Have in Common

2009-01-24T05:12:00.000-08:00

Seems I ran over a peculiar coincidence when I listened to the jazz swing radio station on Last.FM. One of the tracks I enjoyed was "Comin' Home Baby" by Mel Tormé. There is a returning segment in this track that appears the first time when Mel sings "Every night and day I go and stay" (at about 0:23)

Seems I remember those chords and structure from somewhere else. Check this track here, "Breathe" by The Prodigy. It's the segment where Keith sings "Come play my game" (at about 0:56)

And since we are at it, here is the third one making use of a similar progression, "Come to Daddy" by Aphex Twin. It's the segment that goes "I want your soul" (at about 1:18), well actually almost the entire track ;)

I'm pretty sure these are merely amusing coincidences. I guess the progression comes somewhat natural, or that the influence was only subconscious, so there is no investigative story here.

I wonder where else this segment will come up..

The Software Development Game

2009-01-18T08:00:00.000-08:00

There are games about skiing, about playing the guitar, about managing a team of soccer players and other real-life activities. Could there be a game about programming? What would it be like?

I will begin answering this question by rephrasing it. First I will explain why an actual programming game does not sound as exciting to me as a software development game, then I will describe a software development game. If you are not interested in a comparison, just skip ahead to part 2.

1. The Programming Game vs. The Development Game

Software programming is a subset of software development. Software development is the process of bringing a piece of software to life, by all kind of means. Software programming means actually tinkering with the code to create the software. This is a job that requires little interaction with other people, and allows you to devise all kind of contraptions that you deem to be useful - primarily useful to yourself.

Programming code is a highly self-referential, self-ordering and ultimately, self-sufficient activity. It makes for a pretty bad game. Of course you start with a requirement, a goal, but from then on it is entirely up to you how to get to that point. You can break up your tasks into multiple smaller tasks, bind each task to a segment of your completed program, or you can write everything into one chunk and get to the same solution less elegantly.

A programming game would play quite much like "The Incredible Machine" or any other similar physics game, except that you would have an infinite number of parts to apply, and time would be your only enemy. The less parts used to reach your goal, the bigger your score would be. "Crayon Physics Deluxe" almost plays like such a game, and I found it way too easy, because there is always a stupidly simple way to hack your ball around the obstacles.

Perhaps you might find such a game interesting, and certainly it is for a while, but I have been there, and I find real obstacles to be much more exciting. Real programming obstacles are neither processing power nor the size of computer memory. You can either stack up on hardware, or change your program to make more efficient use of resources. There is no point at which you are ultimately bound.

Real programming obstacles are of social nature, or less elaborately expressed: what other people want and/or reject. Some people have trouble with the solution that you invented. Some people want you to add a different solution on top. Other people have patented your solution already, and ask for compensation or replacement.

Although such issues can be solved through programming - by changing the programs implementation - such steps might prove to be less economic than other instruments of software development: writing manuals, incorporating third party solutions or plain negotiation.

In a software house or larger development community, all these slots are filled by different people, and sometimes, especially in the beginning, everything is done by the same guy. Yet all these things would not be necessary if other people would not exist, and you would only program for yourself.

When other people are involved in a game, it always gets exciting, at least for me. When the game offers a battlefield for multiple factions, requires getting to know other people to communicate your interests, be successful and avoid defeat, there is a myriad of delightful situations to be explored. As a plus, if the set of rules is confined, nobody gets hurt.

Such a game would even be interesting to programmers, because it deals with the big picture rather than its details. Often enough, programmers seem to know a lot about the details of programming, but little about the big picture of its social implications: when I tinker with my program, I would rather not be bothered by the outside and work in solitude. However, it might be my secret wish to be respected or even well known for what I do, and that, in some way, luckily, requires a quite extensive amount of human interaction.

Now, on to the fun part...

2. Developers, Developers, Developers!
(Rules of the Software Development Game)
I'm going to describe the game as a simple list of rules from which you can deduce all resulting game situations.

This game is a real-time or round based strategy game for two or more players.
The game is best played against multiple opponents.
The game can either be played against AI or human opponents.
You and your enemies play as software developers on the free market.
You may produce one or more applications.
For each new game, the free market is designated to only one specific niche, such as: browsers, chat programs, games, office suites, operating systems, programming languages and other fun categories we can come up with. (Adware?)
The free market is populated by computer users.
When an user installs your application, your market share grows.
When an user uninstalls your application, your market share shrinks. (Most people never bother to uninstall and just stop using crap, but for the sake of simplicity let's assume they do!)
The goal of the game is to get a 90% market share. That is as much as the Microsoft Internet Explorer had on the browser market in 2001. (This rule is negotiable, since goals of developers diverge in the real world: being profitable, filling a niche, etc. Market shares are a traditional way of measuring success though.)
When a developer achieves a market share of 90%, all other players have lost and the game ends. (In the real world, Firefox would then start kicking your ass, though.)
The free market is realized as a two-dimensional circular plane, where distances between users and apps represent interest.
Applications are represented by colored circles.
Users are represented by gray circles.
Developers start at the borders of the free market, starting with one application in beta stage, one programmer and a budget of $0.
In the beginning of the game, users sit in a neutral circle at the center of the free market. They don't know about your application. Each user has $100 to spend.
Time passes in days and years. One year is approx. one hour of playing time.
You can advertise your application for free by releasing a new version. In the real world, blogs and Twitter would pick up the news and propagate. In the game, all users will know instantly about your new release and reconsider their choices.
Applications possess three values which are attractive or repelling to users: performance, quality and cost. Cost is measured in Dollar. Quality is measured in bugs. Performance is measured in features. (I'm also thinking of other values like ease of use and total cost of ownership)
When an user is attracted by your application, he will move towards it. When he reaches the application, it will be installed and evaluated within a trial period of five days.
Features make the user happy. Bugs make the user unhappy.
If the user gets too unhappy on his trial period, he will uninstall the product.
When the user concludes the trial period, your software is still installed and the app costs money, you will be payed. (*cough!*) If the user had a competitors software installed, that software will be uninstalled.
If a user uninstalls your software in favor of a competitors software, you will still keep the money.
An advertising campaign will do the same as a version release: users will reconsider their choices. The more money you spend on your campaign, the more users will know about it.
Users will also tell others about the software they used or are using. This has the same effect as a version release and an ad campaign, but on a small scale. Only users around that user are affected.
To improve your app, you may hire programmers to work on it. A programmer obtains a fixed salary per month and fixes bugs on a daily basis and implements features on a weekly schedule.
Depending on salary (equaling experience value), the programmer performs better. More features are added per week, more bugs are fixed per day.
Cheap programmers produce more bugs.
As users encounter bugs, they become known and can be fixed. You don't know how many bugs your app has before the bugs have been found.
You can hire quality control engineers to find bugs before your users do.
You may release libraries from your application. Libraries are of little interest to users, but of big interest to other developers. Using libraries improves performance and quality of applications, depending on the quality of the library. A library is only as good as the application from which it has been singled out.
Developers can either buy your libraries or copy them for free, depending on license. When releasing an app or library, you may pick one out of three possible license models: commercial, open source and public domain.
Public domain means (PD): volunteering and hired programmers may work on your software. Only public domain libraries may be added. Your software is available for free. Commercial and open source software may use your software.
Open source means (OS): volunteering and hired programmers may work on your software. Only public domain and open source libraries may be added. Your software is available for free. Only open source software may use your software.
Commercial software (C) means: only hired programmers may work on your app. Commercial and public domain libraries may be used. Your software may be available free or for purchase. Only commercial software may use your software.
If your license is non-commercial, volunteering programmers (longtime users of your software) will turn up and commit patches. Some will fix bugs, some will add features (and more bugs). Quality control engineers may also volunteer for testing and find bugs for you.
If your license is non-commercial and you have hired additional programmers, the quality and frequency of voluntary patches increases as well (less bugs).
When singling out libraries from software, you may change licensing if the software is your work and not bought/copied from someone else (unless it was PD).

That's it so far. I'm sure the list of rules is not complete within the set I set up, but it should give you a pretty good overview of social aspects in software development. I would very much like to see such a game realized, and I would love to see the conclusions.

My Blog - Anew!

2008-12-12T13:10:00.000-08:00

"Boy, this blog surely changes a lot! First it was named Audio 2.0, then it was The Largemind Development Blog, and now it is just empty with your name on top. Seriously dude, settle down!"

Well, I thought since my old blog slowly transformed into the Largemind/Halebopp devblog, I would move it nearer to the mothership. So,

PLEASE CLICK HERE for the awesome mind-boggling intergalactic planetary Largemind Development Blog.