8th Light Blog

Back at RubyConf 2007 I prepared a 1 minute presentation, well… more of a teaser, about an application framework called LimeLight.

What is it? LimeLight is a selfish dream of mine. In a nutshell it’s a light weight ruby framework for building rich client applications. To explain further, know this. I hate building web applications. Not because they’re hard to build or anything silly like that. It’s because they’re so perverted. Writing web apps makes me feel dirty; as though I’ve sunk into a pit of waste and decay where the foundation of my work is a pool of sludge. No matter how hard I may try, the very nature of modern web apps taints my code and leaves me a sour, grumpy developer.

To understand what I mean, consider the trivial little widget on the right here. Try clicking the button and watch the light blink. Simple huh? Can you count the number of languages/technologies used in implementing this widget? And don’t forget the code required on the server side…..

I count 5. That is, in most cases this widget would require about 5 or more different languages. Let’s count. HTML of course. CSS to make it look right. JavaScript. That’s 3, but in most cases you’ve got server-side code which, if you’re lucky, involves Ruby and ERB. Think about it. You need to know 5 difference languages to build that silly widget. Yikes!

I’ll include the code below. Know that I’ve made every effort to make this code as clean and simple as possible. Still, I would need to borrow your hands and feet to count all the things I find distasteful about it. Have a close look. Ask yourself, “Couldn’t there be an easier way to do this?” I say there is.

If you’d like to learn more, I’ll be presenting on the topic at RailsConf 2008. Or you can come back this this blog site later. I’ll be sure to post any exciting progress.

<div style="border: 1px solid blue; width: 100px; height: 100px; 
               text-align: center; background-color: white; 
               float: right;">
    <div id="light" 
            style="border: 1px solid black; width: 50px; 
            height: 35px; margin: 10px 24px 10px 24px; 
            background-color: red; text-align: center; 
            padding-top: 15px;">
        Stop
    </div>
    <input id="button" type="submit" 
              value="Start" onclick="stopOrGo();"/>
    <script type="text/javascript">
        function stopOrGo() {
            var button = document.getElementById('button');
            var light = document.getElementById('light');
            if(button.value == 'Start') {
                start(button, light);
            }
            else {
                stop(button, light);
            }
        }

        function stop(button, light) {
            light.style.backgroundColor = "red";
            light.innerHTML = "Stop";
            button.value = "Start";
        }

        function start(button, light) {
            light.innerHTML = "Go!";
            button.value = "Stop";
            blink();
        }

        function blink() {
            var light = document.getElementById('light');
            if(light.innerHTML == "Go!")
            {
                if(light.style.backgroundColor == "green") {
                    light.style.backgroundColor = "lightgrey";  
                }
                else {
                    light.style.backgroundColor = "green";
                }
                setTimeout("blink()", 500);
            }
        }
    </script>
</div>

A little more than six years ago I started my first, and hopefully last, job at a massive cubicle farm. On my first day I was introduced to everybody by my project manager, so nervous and uncomfortable that I barely spoke*. She introduced me first to the admin, who could stop traffic. She said hello with a big smile then chirped, “we’re twins!” Scrambling to get my jaw off the floor and seem cool and confident, I instead managed a pathetic grunt in response. Sensing my confusion she pointed to my shirt and added, “See we’re both wearing green.” This suave ladies man responded with, “oh,” then was ushered away to meet somebody much uglier and less interesting. The admin thought to herself, “what a snob,” and returned to her duties. As Jim has often told me, I make an impression.

Last Sunday I became the happiest snob in the world when I married the still jaw-droppingly gorgeous former-admin. Fortunately for me I also make a second impression. See 8th Light and this blog in two weeks!

*Yes it’s true. I am capable of silence. I just find it overrated.

I’m a bit overdue on blogging, so in lieu of the normally brilliant and insightful commentary on the state of…er something… I usually put here I thought I’d share something that we at 8th Light have started doing.

Push-ups.

Every hour. Yes I realize it’s nuts, but look at a typical day for me. Wake up too late. Rush to get ready. Get distracted by something on the computer (today it was RubyCocoa). Realize that I won’t make it to the gym in time to lift weights. Work too late. Come home, eat, maybe help my future step-children with their homework. Suddenly it’s 10, and I haven’t worked out.

Aha - but I did 150 push-ups today. I think - I don’t actually count. Here’s how the 8th Light Fitness Plan (published Spring 2008) works. Every hour, on the hour, do push-ups. We started at 10 every hour and that was pretty hard once upon a time, now we’re up to 25. Well most of us. Today I saw two of the guys in another part of the building doing them, and I figure that if it caught on amongst 8th Light it can catch on elsewhere. After all we’re not that weird. Are we?