Review of “Clean Code: A Handbook of Agile Software Craftsmanship” by Robert C. Martin.
One of my earlier functions was a true abomination.
It was 250 lines long, accepted 18 input parameters, and was nested up to 9 levels deep with highly complex conditions at all levels. It’s not only gross; it’s horrible, and I wish it would just go away. But it does its job, and I would need to put in significant effort in restructuring the whole program if I wanted to do something about it. And you can bet I’m not touching it now, not with a ten-foot stick.
The worst part? It’s the central cog in an equally abominable class (written entirely by yours truly) producing these plots, which are still used during scientific rocket launches from Andøya to determine the optimal moment for pressing the big red button.
Soon I’ll start working with Xamarin. I just have to learn C# first.
I’ve heard it said that you can’t get a job doing something you’ve never done. What a load of equine droppings.
What follows is mostly a personal story of how I switched careers from academia to software development without really knowing the relevant technologies. More specifically, it’s about how I got a job as a C#/VB.NET/Xamarin developer when I started toying with those technologies just before the interview.
Quick-save has skewed my sense of difficulty and, surprisingly, made my playing styles more monotonous.
I was heading down a narrow corridor. My trusted KilLite 2k non-lethal taser at the ready, a MegaBlast 3000 Plasma Rifle on my hip, and the Widowmaker sniper on my back. I stopped before rounding the corner and considered my options. I knew a semi-open room laid just beyond. On the scaffolding up to the left, a sniper. I would have to take care not to be seen. Two guards with assault rifles patrolling the perimeter. The brute with the minigun lighting a smoke behind a crate, ready to jump into the fray if things got ugly. And at the far end of the hall – my target.
Can added pixel density give this Zelda classic new life?
I never reviewed the original Twilight Princess. This puts me in an odd position when reviewing its 10-year anniversary HD remake. Should I make this a full-fledged review of the game as a whole? Or would that be unfair, what with most of the game being 10 years old and all? And how do my opinions on the game, never fully articulated or brought into the conscious, impact how I feel about my experience with the remake? Instead of rambling on about these questions I’ll go back to basics and try to answer what most people reading reviews are wondering deep down:
I got something right and something wrong, for better or worse.
Recently, before starting Twilight Princess HD, I laid out some expectations for what I thought I would feel about certain aspects of the experience. I’m now about halfway through the game (just arrived in the Gerudo Desert), and I feel I have seen enough of the game to comment on whether I was right or wrong on the various points.
Pixels, mirrors, and stamps – here are my expectations for Twilight Princess HD.
Dagnabit, I’m already a day late! Anyhow, I’m thrilled to finally have Twilight Princess HD downloaded on my Wii U, and if I write rapidly, I’m sure I can jot down some quick expectations for the pastime I’ll be cramming in between writing my dissertation and attending job interviews before the game’s beckoning becomes irresistible.
Thawing AND healing allies using fireballs? Yes please.
In my review of Divinity: Original Sin I mentioned that you could thaw your frozen allies with fireballs, if they had the HP to withstand such a harsh treatment. Well, guess what? In Divinity, you (and enemies) can have more than 100% resistance to something, which means that you actually heal when “damaged” by that element or damage type.
So my co-op partner upgraded/found some gear that gave him more than 100% fire resistance, and now I can throw my mightiest fire spells his way and instead of waking from a frozen wasteland to a burning nightmare, he’ll wake from a frozen wasteland to a sunny beach with a warm summer breeze in his hair and a team of masseuses attending to his sore muscles.
Accepting commercial use of your works is necessary for a thriving, worldwide commons of free cultural works. Here’s why.
I have just chosen to allow commercial use of my photos through an appropriate Creative Commons license. This was a rather significant change in my thinking. My gut reaction has always been “I don’t want others to exploit my work and make money off it”. But while this is a valid sentiment with the best of intentions, it utterly fails to capture the complexities of the problem. I did some research and, as often is the case, my new-found knowledge required me to completely change my mind and my conduct. Here is an overview of the problem and why you should allow commercial uses of your creative works.
Knowledge is power. Giving everyone free access to knowledge is one of the most democratic things we can do.
Wikipedia has often displayed donation banners at the top of articles. Lately they’ve been getting a bit more dominant (in a perfectly fine non-flashy way, mind you). Now, at long last, instead of filing it away in the dark recesses of my mind, I actually read the message and reflected on the whole “knowledge is power” thing. Easiest reflection I’ve done – five minutes later I was a Wikipedia supporter. Here’s what went though my head:
Divinity is a really good game. It just forces me to make a few compromises I’d rather be without.
I’m currently co-oping1Divinity: Original Sin Enhanced Edition. It’s a fun game, with lots of attention to detail and thoughtfully implemented gameplay mechanics. But some poor choices on my part have left me wanting more here and there, and I’m not sure I’m willing to replay it to treat it more fairly. So here’s a kind-of-review that’s most likely a tad bit more critical than the game deserves.2