Programming is like

Programming is like Buddhism. No one can tell you how to do it. You must do it for yourself. You are the only one who can get in touch with your own reality.

Programming is like the Matrix. There is a difference between knowing the path and walking it. I can only show you the door. You have to go through it.

Programming is like mathematics. There is a crucial relationship between syntax and semantics that fills the soul with ecstasy.

Programming is like the brain. The line is blurred between what is static and what is dynamic.

Programming is like the mind. It is everything and it is nothing. It is you and me, and everything in between.

Programming is like music. The answers are out there, it just requires the right kind of person to capture it and tell it to the world.

The answer to life, the universe, and everything is out there, it just takes some time for the global consciousness to understand everything there is to understand. Communication is critical.

Why have I not seen this before?

Why have I not known about the Mind & Life Institute until now? I literally just found that page.

Why do people like to play solitaire?

Klondike solitaire.

Please note that when I write “solitaire”, I am discussing the Klondike solitaire card game. I did not realize until a few years ago that what I knew as simply “solitaire” was actually a more specifically named game.

Solitaire is commonly referred to, considered, and accepted as a card “game”. However, there’s no game involved here. There is no skill or intuition, no physical contest, no adversary. It’s more like a puzzle, but a very simple puzzle. There’s only relatively few options offered to the player at any given time, and the search space is just plain tiny, if you’re into the whole computer science thing (cf. the search space for chess is huuuge).

So solitaire isn’t really a game, and is barely a puzzle. And yet it is so enthralling. People will even watch over your shoulder when you’re playing (“no, put the red seven on the black eight…”), thus is the allure of solitaire.

People sometimes ask me why I enjoy playing with my Rubik’s Cube, even though I already know how to solve it (and know that I can solve it). I believe that the answer here and the reason solitaire is even tolerable are the same.

Rubik's Cube.

Solving the Rubik’s Cube and “solving” solitaire both ask the player to follow a relatively short algorithm, i.e. a finite set of steps for performing actions based on the given state of the system, which involves recognizing patterns and applying known rules. The human mind seems to delight in patterns. Patterns, analogies, isomorphisms, symmetries, relationships, etc. comprise our souls. For some reason, trying to find these patterns and apply the rules quickly gives us some satisfaction. Getting lucky and flying through a handful of steps in the algorithm is exponentially more gratifying (e.g.. flipping over a bunch of  face down cards and being able to place them immediately). The best part about solitaire is that it culminates in an extremely symmetrical, four part chorale of awesomeness, and the Rubik’s Cube has an equivalent catharsis. There’s nothing like finding order in chaos.

Pretty cool, right? I haven’t thought that much about this; are there any other games or puzzles like this that are simple yet satisfying?

Journal of Mind and Behavior

I want a subscription to the Journal of Mind and Behavior. It’s awkward, though, because I am currently living in England.

I almost wrote “behaviour”.