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Chapter 1. Coding and Cats
Clackety-clack, clackety-clack, the keyboard goes a clickety-clack.
Line by line the logic flows, and a program slowly grows.
We have here a diligent student, focused on working with prudence,
but for now she knows not that this focus is soon to be shot by forces of nature unknown.
So she whittles away a chip at a time, clicking and clacking and filling in lines.
Time, she recalls, has begun to confine, her proposal presentation not yet sublime.
Data, data, data, she needs, as she speaks to her code, and in part, pleads.
A committee demands its due, you see, though she's just crossed her academic T's.
T's for tests that mark the student's shore, to a researcher's uncharted lands and lore.
With every tool and trick in hand, she will meet their scholarly command.
So she clacks and clacks, code running across the screen,
checking punctuation with tact, and all else with expediency.
A missing semicolon or space for a tab, and hair would go flying after a grab.
All this stress and mess for what? You might wonder. Why, all to help, would be what you hear.
To help this grad's research become useful, even seen, and to endear.
Endear her committee, those that hold her rights to research,
so that she may continue on her path. A path to pursue, a knowledge bath.
One of her finding, and making, so saith her math.
For this student to become a researcher, one must show, show, show.
Show their grit, their grime, their hard pressing for time.
Hard pressing for time. So she works and she works, as time advances in bursts.
As she types, she sits in the eye of a storm. She's lost in a rhythm, full of logic and lessons learned.
03:02
With code she holds each piece in her mind, each loop held aloft, each if, then, and else.
Another click, another clack, and soon she'll...
Splash, splash, shit, she exclaims, not amused in the least. Her cat bounds away,
a proud little beast. A puddle forming beneath the glass, spilled at last.
A glass, long forgotten in the storm of her past. The past few hours, at least, swept away by this
wave. A moment it took to shake the hours she gave. Loops lost and logic slackened, her mind shifts
to the emergent happens. A mop, a wipe, and all is well again. Yet, yet, what was that loop again?
Eyes return, mind to follow. A diligent grad student she be. Clackety-click, clickety-clack.
A little misstep couldn't possibly hold her back. And yet...
That's it for the show today. Thanks for listening, and find us on x at Ego de Science, that is E-I-D-E-I-N-C.
E-G-O-D-E-S-C-I-E-N-C. See you next time!
