Here is a strange and, when you think about it, disturbing fact about our culture: Girls are more often, and more openly, encouraged to do “boy things” than boys are to do “girl things.”

Can it be a good thing—for our personal relationships and for society—for females to grow up with an awareness of and appreciation for males, without the reverse occurring?

A few weeks ago, I was gift shopping for a boy in kindergarten and his younger sister. I bought three books with male protagonists, thinking that both of them could read and enjoy the books. I shied away from the books with female protagonists, thinking that only one of them would appreciate those.

And then I read the Washington Post article What are we teaching boys when we discourage them from reading books about girls? This article says it perfectly. It is one of the most profoundly important articles I have read this year. It’s not a long article, but every sentence is a gem. I urge you to read it.

How wrong I was in that bookstore! And I consider myself an open-minded person! Ach! I am upset with myself, but the situation is easy to rectify: I’m going to go back and buy the kids three more books—with girl protagonists.

“Computaz rule!” said the robot, while slowly taking over the world.

Does technology make our lives easier? Or does it complicate them in the guise of simplicity?

Two blog posts ago, I admitted that I spent the last six months learning programming languages for which I may never find a practical use (by reading the book JavaScript & jQuery by Jon Duckett).

I did it because . . . computaz rule!!!!

I love working at the computer. I personally prefer to write and edit at the computer, as opposed to on paper. I enjoy visiting websites and working on websites. I think the Internet has enhanced our lives in many ways. Are you old (and, naturally, wise . . . lolz!) enough to remember straining to remember something for hours upon days, having no Google on which to look it up? Do you recall wrestling with clunky typewriters, gunky white-out, and perpetually tangled phone cords?

It’s interesting to me to learn more about how websites work, so that I can work on them, or simply appreciate them. But there’s something else going on. Have you ever noticed that . . . computaz rule????

Let’s back up a sec. In addition to loving computers, I also love old-fashioned things: like printed books, magazines on actual paper, gardening, chicken raising, supporting local businesses, and face-to-face interactions. I like to think that Henry David Thoreau and I would’ve gotten along. I am skeptical of features of modern life that purport to make life easier, but introduce new complexities that end up making it more maddening.

My point is that I can see both sides here: I believe in embracing the best of modern technologies, and I also believe in getting back to basics. My point is also this: while it’s okay to do the Thoreau thing by living alone in the woods, it’s also okay to do the Thoreau thing by leaving the woods, living in town, using contemporary implements to write a book, and publishing a book in the contemporary way.

Computaz are virtually (ha!) inescapable today. They really do rule the world. So I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad thing if more of us learned more about their inner workings. Too bad they’re so darn complicated! But then again, so is living off the land. . . .

Whereas I was able to put my new HTML and CSS skills to immediate and continuous use, reading about JavaScript and jQuery has been, for me, more esoteric. Web developers use JavaScript and jQuery daily. But for the rest of us, they are less obviously useful. The amateur web developer may find them to be less accessible—for example, hidden in the themes and plugins installed on websites.

Nevertheless, reading a hefty book about these programs has been a fascinating journey. Here, in random order, are some things I learned from making my way through JavaScript & jQuery by Jon Duckett.

Computaz follow rulz.

Of course, I knew this before, but the book really drove the point home. Computer code never involves anything mystical; it’s always a mere sequence of characters. Code can seem mystical when a program behaves in ways you don’t understand, but there is always a reason for why the computer behaves the way it does. The programmer’s job is to find it—which brings me to my next point.

Computer programs are so complicated that not even programmers understand them.

As Duckett notes at the beginning of his chapter “Error Handling & Debugging,” “Programming is like problem solving: you are given a puzzle and not only do you have to solve it, but you also need to create the instructions that allow the computer to solve it, too. . . . When writing a long script, nobody gets everything right in their first attempt.”

This is why programmers perform a lot of tests before putting their code out into the world. It’s also why tech support people might not be able to solve your problem immediately. They need to tinker.

JavaScript and jQuery create interactivity in a website.

If you want a static page full of text and images that the user can read and look at, HTML and CSS work just fine. However, if you want the page to respond to the user differently based on what the user does, you have to give the computer precise instructions that indicate what it should do in each case: you have to provide a script. For example, a script could say that if the user does not fill in a required field (a field is a box the user can type in), an error message should appear, and the submit button should not submit any information. Another script could say that if the user clicks a delete button, something disappears, while if the user clicks a plus symbol, a field appears.

jQuery is a shortcut through the complexities of JavaScript.

JavaScript code often has to do things twice: once for most browsers and again for Internet Explorer, since IE often obeys different commands. Duplicate instructions are also often needed because many commands recognized by newer versions of the browsers are not recognized by their older versions. The purpose of jQuery is to negotiate these and other issues behind the scenes. It’s a shortcut. Developers can do the same things in jQuery as they can in JavaScript, but jQuery requires them to write fewer lines of code.

Programming languages are languages.

While there are important differences, computer languages are similar to human languages in many respects. As in written human languages, characters and combinations of characters in JavaScript and jQuery have distinct meanings, and how they are strung together matters.

As a language lover, I was intrigued to learn new meanings for old familiar characters. For example, I learned that  !  means “not,”  ||  means “or,” and  ;  means “end of statement.”

As an English speaker, I felt lucky when I realized that JavaScript and jQuery contain many similarities to my native language. For example,  if  means “if,”  .hide()  means “hide,” and  getElementById  means “potato soup” . . . kidding! It means “get element by id.”

You don’t need to know how it works, just how to interact with it.

Duckett informs the reader that, when interfacing with exterior scripts or programs, “You do not always need to know how a script or program works, as long as you know how to ask it to do something, and how to process its response.”

What a relief! There’s so much I don’t know about computers, so it’s comforting to be reminded that a lot can be accomplished with a very small subset of knowledge.

TL;DR

Why should non-coders care about any of this?

Computa rulz stand behind our interactions with the Internet and other technologies. Computer code is like the man behind the curtain in The Wizard of Oz. It seems awesomely, terrifyingly powerful—until you peek behind and realize that, while there are complexities, there are also relatively easy ways that you can interact and understand.

What knowledge and thoughts do you have about computaz and their rulz?

A few months ago, I was browsing through my fave local chain bookstore—that’s still in business—seeking a new challenge. I roamed into parts of the store I don’t usually frequent. Finding myself in the computer section, a book caught my eye.

A few years ago, you see, I taught myself HTML and CSS by reading a book by Jon Duckett titled, appropriately enough, HTML & CSS. At the time, I was interested in learning more about computer programming so I could create a better website without shelling out the big bucks. I had found WordPress, WordPress themes, and WordPress plugins to be fabulous helps in creating a professional-looking site, but I wanted more control over how elements on the site appeared, and for that I needed to learn HTML and CSS.

But I discovered that learning that skill didn’t just help me create a better personal site; the skills carried over to other aspects of my life. I suddenly became a more useful writer/editor when I could make my writing and editing look decent not just on paper but also on-screen. I found myself using my new skills to help a freelance client, a pro bono client, and a boyfriend. I was even able to advertise the skills on my resume when applying for a new job, and then use them at work when I got the job. While I’m no expert in HTML and CSS, I have learned enough to be able to hold my own: enough to be able to look up and understand solutions to problems for which I don’t have immediate answers.

The skills I learned have also been helpful outside of the realm of web development. This is harder to explain, but learning the basics of web programming helped me better understand the Internet in general. Previously, I had seen certain things on web pages and felt lost and intimidated. Now I see those same things and understand why they’re there. This often happens when a website is buggy. A piece of code will appear where it should be hidden, or something will look funny or not work properly. Knowing how the pieces fit together behind the scenes helps me decipher what things are supposed to look like and interact with the page as if they did look right.

All this was unintentional: I was merely trying to create a better lizaachilles.com, not accomplish all that other stuff. The other stuff happened as a natural byproduct.

When learning a new skill, it’s all about getting past the initial strangeness and effort of it. This is the learning curve people talk about. It feels ridiculously difficult at first, but through practice, you begin to feel more comfortable. Then suddenly one day, you think, “Wow, I’m a bona fide computer programmer!” Of course, you’re still not, like, writing apps or anything—but you can really do something online.

This brings me to that day in the bookstore. It was Duckett’s second book, JavaScript & jQuery, that caught my eye. I had no idea what those programming languages were used for or how learning them might help me work on my website, perform job duties, help paying and nonpaying clients, understand the Internet better, or enhance my life in another way. But since the first book was so useful, I thought, why not give it a try?

That was six months ago. Having finally finished it, I’d like to share with you some things I learned. But I’ll leave that for my next couple blog posts. For now, I merely want to emphasize how cool it is to take on something very, very hard and, bit by bit, get better at, until you are applying your new skills with ease.

Now that I’ve completed this challenge, what shall I take on next? I see that Duckett has a third book coming out in January. Or perhaps I’ll learn how to water a cactus without killing it . . . or how to keep a bookshelf spotlessly white and almost empty.

Are you in the process of learning an incredibly difficult skill? If not, would you like to? Why not start today?

The inquisitive one was expecting a message. Surely the message would arrive today.

Most likely, the message would come via email or text. It was possible that it would come through Facebook or Twitter. WhatsApp was a distinct possibility. Then again, it could be an actual phone call. It could conceivably come through TrilliSilli, DeAppinessApp, or Appavader Rex—though these channels were less likely.

The inquisitive one had put the mobile device on the counter and started to cook something when the doorbell rang. But the garlic was about to burn, plus the water started boiling over from the other pan, and then the smoke detector started blaring. The inquisitive one removed the pans from heat, fanned off the smoke alarm with a towel, and opened the door—but no one was there.

Upon shutting the door, the inquisitive one returned to the kitchen and checked the mobile device. “No new messages!” the mobile device told the inquisitive one—though not out loud. No: the mobile device was silent.

Once all the food was cooked and put away, the inquisitive one went on a run. The inquisitive one had entered and emerged from the woods and was heading toward home when a car pulled up and rolled down its window.

“Hey, guess what?” shouted the person in the car.

The inquisitive one stopped running and stood there, panting and staring.

“I thought you were someone else,” said the person, and drove away with a squeal.

The inquisitive one resumed running, though somewhat slower than before. Upon arriving home, the inquisitive one looked at the mobile device. “You are unworthy!” shouted the mobile device—though not out loud. No: the mobile device was practicing noise neglect.

The inquisitive one put the phone on the counter next to the bathroom sink, stripped off the sweaty clothes, and got in the shower. A moth was flying around, avoiding the stream of warm water. When the moth landed on a nearby wall tile, the inquisitive one smooshed it.

At that moment, as if the inquisitive one had pushed a button—the mobile device spoke aloud!!

But . . . was it electronic singing, or, since water was rushing so loudly around the inquisitive one’s ears, was it imagination?

The inquisitive one picked up the bar of soap, fantasizing about scrolling.