For some time now, the call has gone out: “Learn to code! You need to learn to code!”, often with wild-eyed speculation about how soon every job will require some level of programming expertise. Many point out - rightly - that programming and software development aren’t for everyone: not everyone has the desire to work in the tech field, and not everyone has the natural inclination to work on coding problems day in and day out.
So for my Sinatra portfolio project, I opted to do something a bit simpler and more of a minimum-viable-project than my CLI project; namely, I built out the first half of a commerce website that allows producers to list goods with prices and inventory, and would eventually allow consumers to browse and purchase those goods. So far, my site allows for user authentication, associates items to producers and allows full support for CRUD operations.
For the life of me, I cannot remember when or how I first heard of the Ithkuil language. Languages - be they spoken, signed or programming - have long been a fascination of mine, and the idea of a language built to be as dense as Ithkuil is turned out to be a source of great delight. I mean, just look at it!
(Note: This post represents my current understanding of the topic as a student, and should not be solely relied on for anything important. If anything here is inaccurate, please let me know and I’ll correct the content here.)
Back in 2005, I entered college with, if not a clear vision for the future, at least an idea of what I wanted to do when I graduated. I was studying for a bachelor’s degree in computer science, which I was going to get in four years. I was studying Japanese, which I was going to use with my computer science education to find a job in the video game industry, either in the Pacific Northwest or possibly in Japan itself. All of this was, of course, going to be smooth sailing, because why wouldn’t it be?