I just finished migrating this blog to its new home on GitHub Pages.
Why the move? Let me tell you...
I just finished migrating this blog to its new home on GitHub Pages.
Why the move? Let me tell you...
Deploy smarter, not harder.
Deep Thought is a Sinatra-based app with a big brain. And by "big brain," I mean quite big - some may describe it as a "brain the size of a planet," though Deep Thought prefers not dabble in such hyperboles. What does Deep Thought do with this huge brain? It manages your deploys.
Deployment workflows are often overly complicated, multi-stepped labyrinths of servers, keys, and scripts, held together with a few scraps of documentation and a bit of luck. Shipping is not unlike closing your eyes and slamming the Infinite Improbability Drive button, though perhaps with less falling whales (unless you're Twitter).
Deep Thought works to open up the deploy process and make it simple and straight-forward. Deep Thought allows you to deploy from anywhere to anywhere, and, in turn, encourages devs to be excited about shipping, rather than reluctant.
Three months ago, I left the advertising agency I was working at. I had worked there for a little over three years.
To be clear, it was a good company. The people were smart, the projects were (mostly) creative, and I learned a lot during my tenure. I made some great friends and we had a lot of fun. Still do, in fact.
But, as Heraclitus said, the only constant in this life is change. The staff changed, the benefits changed, the projects changed. But, in truth, the most significant change was my own. I had been changing. I wanted something else. I needed something else.
There's an old anecdote known as the "boiling frog." The story goes - if you place a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will frantically attempt to escape. But if you place a frog in a pot of tepid water and heat it slowly, the frog will contently adjust to the increasing heat, ultimately boiling itself alive.
While the validity of this story is debatable, the principle applies; discontentment is usually a slow-burn.
Discontentment. It took a long time to recognize it, but by the time I had, it was already at home in my head. My new cognitive houseguest lurked in every corner - every annoyance seemed magnified, every passion was dampened. Even my health began to suffer.
I was unhappy, plain and simple.
As a person on the internet with a blog, I am entitled - nay! - expected to come up with fancy opinions and then haughtily pass them off as facts. And since I hate to disappoint my fabricated fans, I present to you:
The 90/10/0 Principle: Programming vs. Languages.
Every once in awhile, I find myself on a new machine. Perhaps via a job, or perhaps via my credit card. Last week, I found myself breaking the seal on a new Macbook Pro Retina (which, by the way, is an absolutely kick-ass piece of drool-worthy computer-goodness).
So it's time to set up a new box. Where to start?
If you're anything like me, you like consistency. (Well, if you're like me, you need consistency because of some deep, OCD-level craziness.) That means I have want a simple and straightforward way to cleanly set up my working environment.
What I work with changes all of the time, but right now, it includes Git, Ruby, and Node.js. So let's see what it takes to get that environment up and running.
POOF!
...and the blog becometh.
As with all blogs born (or reborn, or third-born...multi-born?), this is the obligatory, "Oh hey, check out my blog being launched!" first post.
The excitement...you can almost taste it. It's palpably palpable.
But how about something actually worth reading? Personally, I enjoy learning a bit about the technology stack behind a site. The first post seems as good a post as any to discuss some of the gears and cogs making this blog turn.
But first, some obligatories: * Yes, this is my new blog. * No, I won't be migrating any of my previous blog's content. * Any libs or projects you may be looking for can be found on my GitHub page.
There. Now, let's move on. How this site works...
© 2016 | What's mine is mine, and you can't have it. (Unless you ask, and I say "yes.")