Of course it is hard­er to think about ideas than to bring a pro­gram­ming lan­guage into a classroom.

mean­while, at code.org

Fetishis­ing pro­gram­ming won’t get us any­where. (And indeed, it is strik­ing will.i.am has the most sen­si­ble quote of them all.)

In the era of the iPhone, Face­book, and Twit­ter, we’ve become enam­ored of ideas that spread as effort­less­ly as ether. We want fric­tion­less, “turnkey” solu­tions to the major dif­fi­cul­ties of the world—hunger, dis­ease, pover­ty. We pre­fer instruc­tion­al videos to teach­ers, drones to troops, incen­tives to insti­tu­tions. Peo­ple and insti­tu­tions can feel messy and anachro­nis­tic. They intro­duce, as the engi­neers put it, uncon­trolled variability.
I think my favourite aspect of it, though, is that at times, watch­ing the bots play togeth­er is a lit­tle like mag­ic. The first time I saw them talk to each oth­er, cov­er each oth­er whilst reload­ing, help each oth­er up after a Boomer attacked, I felt a lit­tle (only a lit­tle, mind) like a proud father. They’re dumb as a sack of ham­mers, but they look con­vinc­ing, and that was the real goal. It’s fun to watch them fight the horde amidst all my oth­er friends on Twitter.

Infovore » Twit 4 Dead: more sil­ly non­sense with Twit­ter bots.

Dig­ging up some old work by Tom after encoun­ter­ing a talk on Left 4 Dead’s AI.

Peo­ple have asked me many times to say what, exact­ly, is the point of this project. I’ve always had a fas­ci­na­tion with the ways that cre­ative peo­ple bal­ance inspi­ra­tion and dis­ci­pline in their work­ing lives. It’s easy to be ener­gized when you’re in the grip of a big idea. But what do you do when you don’t have any­thing to work with? Just stay in bed? Writ­ers have this fig­ured out: it’s amaz­ing how many of them have a rigid rou­tine. John Cheev­er, for instance, used to wake up every morn­ing in his New York City apart­ment, put on a jack­et and tie, kiss his wife good­bye, and take the ele­va­tor down to his apart­ment building’s base­ment, when he would sit at a small desk and write until quit­ting time, at which point he’d go back up. (When it was hot in the base­ment, he’d strip down to his under­wear to work.) The only way to expe­ri­ence this kind of dis­ci­pline is to sub­ject your­self to it. Every stu­dent who has tak­en this project had a moment where the work turned into a mind-numb­ing grind. And trust me: it won’t be the first time this hap­pens. The trick is to press on. For each new day (whether it’s Day 28, Day 61, even Day 100) brings with it the hope of inspiration.

Five Years of 100 Days: Obser­va­to­ry: Design Observer

Sore­ly tempt­ed to take this project on myself. Tick­les my masochism pickle.