Ross. @internetross. Ross who never really left Dennis' Place for Games.
Based in San Francisco. At this moment likely having an existential crisis over const and let and wondering how Yehuda Katz can just do all the things. Or about extending the invitation. Or how Jaron Lanier reminded me Google only matters because we screwed up Ted Nelson's two-way Xanadu.
Me circa 2016 (look at that punim!):
But it's taken me a while to get here. Like, this wasn't my first what I want to be when i grow up idea. When I was a 12 year-old kid sketching charcoal nudes at the Art Institute, I dreamed my future self a loose t-shirt wearing painter sitting around in European cafes in the 1920s. Shakespeare & Co. or what have you.
In summer, of course. The loosest of shirts.
(Shoutout to my brother for the way he's truly embodied my dream of perfect loose t-shirt adornment in the early 2000s.)
In some ways it's too bad it took me so long to fall all the way for internet work. I certainly craned my neck that way over the years. Like, early echoes from my childhood: sneaky delights at the DOS prompt, initializing programs and traversing directory trees. WordPerfect. Word up. (How far we've come now!: just CMD + Space, type in the program name, hit enter.) And so many free hours of AOL to chat with the whole world when I was a tween. 22/f here to chat. First gender plays, too. (Like now when I sit in the dark and pretend to be Kate Libby with that red leather zipped up tight over her boobies, munging JSON and bussing messages around.)
And then I remember the mind explosion when I saw the ILOVEYOU worm corrupt a hard-drive in real-time during my internship with the InfoTechWarPeace project in college. Wooed so hard by hacker smooches. (And falling a bit, too, for the dashing deutsche curator Franziska Nori).
Then I touched down in the Yay Area in 2007, a year after Twitter launched and the SaaS bookmark service wars were really heating up. It was really nearly inevitable to jack in during those mythic times. Doors [were kinda] open, mayne, and everytime I was at some networking function it was like "what can you do [on the computer]" and I'd be like, "well I've built a couple websites??" The way their eyes would just light up...
And so here we are. After repeated flirts and intellectual fancies with the web, I'm like ~6 years into a professional career designing, developing, and debugging useful web things; really doing all sides. Fucking love it. I/O bound and hanging ten on the info highway. It's an existence of exponentializing ahas and obsessions and wtfs as you go deeper and follow the rhizomatic spread into things that empower so many things, the IOT of things! And in the last 3 years greatly accelerated learnings working end-to-end on the product side building collaboration augmentationers for scientists. The implicit return? Any given day I'm caring more than I ever thought I would about a complex interplay of protocols and practices of cloudgineering (you might even say a freakin Matrix):
Learning never stops in the software biz because the singularity must be hastened or something. Who knows exactly, but the reality is that under the choking ozone of Tesla fumes we rage forward with a nerdcore will/fantasy/hubris/delusional heroism to stretch human meaning to the limit by augmentation or AI. Gordon Moore is forcing things along hella fast and you gotta keep up. (Or was it Fred Moore?)
Many coders fold this learning back into code in the form of side projects; always the bricoleurs. Personally, I've found writing to be a satisfying outlet for working over the TILs. In many ways I write for me, and that's why some of my phrasing reads like e.e. cummings, or me after a couple pinots. But I do keep you in mind. Although I imagine you as someone who writes some code or helps build web products in some fashion. That summarily prefaced, here's a sample of my diary (with the whole rest of the lot here):
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