The post is a playful guide to writing that advises against using itemized lists or TODOs because they make the writer feel short‑tailed and blue; instead, it suggests moving slowly at your own pace, treating a project as dough that grows gradually, and writing indirectly so you can be correct. It encourages drafting a “cook book” before cooking, rewriting repeatedly until it feels right, mixing talents to create balance, and even fluffing up details like sipping from a teacup. The author stresses staying strong, doing things the old way in a day if you dream, modeling in 3D rather than studying perspective alone, tracing faces, rebuilding precious artifacts before contracts, and finally resting—taking a wise cat’s nap—to stop inventing crap.

The post argues that modern schooling often relies on temporary memorization rather than true understanding, leading students to be unable to explain what they “know” even when asked about topics like math or physics. It calls for a renewed approach in which teachers and learners question everything, blending science study by day with investigative reporting by night, so the learning process becomes self‑examining. The author uses hackers as an example of how creative engineering—combining networking, programming, soldering, and art into one coherent discipline—can rebuild communication systems from scratch, suggesting that a real school should cluster such subjects mutually reinforcing each other. In this view, teaching disjointed fragments merely yields fraud; instead schools must let students build or rebuild their community from the ground up. The piece ends by recalling how poor children were once employed in mines, and now we “mine” student labor as cheap resource to pay for college loans that end up being unforgivable debts.

The post argues that schools force students into learning math and physics mainly to preserve accreditation, but many teachers are ill‑prepared or over‑dependent on rote methods, leaving students feeling frustrated and “delayed.” It claims true learning happens when the student independently reinvents concepts—seeing mathematics as a living language rather than static notation—and uses modern resources (code repositories, video tutorials, Newton’s Principia) to explore ideas. The author stresses that curiosity, self‑education, and following thinkers like Isaac Newton are the real keys to mastering the universe’s workings, not merely obeying school schedules or teacher expectations.

The author argues that learning is an interconnected, enjoyable process where one can juggle multiple subjects and switch between them as interests evolve; he claims that Newton’s method of self‑education was driven by fun rather than rigid study. He contrasts this with standardized schooling, which he sees as a forced sequence that wastes years and reduces learning to memorization for grades. By switching subjects freely, a self‑educated person can approach each topic from new angles and keep the joy alive. Finally he invites readers to start their own upward cycle of self‑education by exploring audiobooks such as those by Bryson, Munroe, Sagan or de Grasse Tyson.

In 1804 Earth had 1 billion people; in 25 years it will reach 10 billion. The author proposes that the only solution is to build powerful, beautiful schools that bring real education, wisdom, and greatness to all—without grades or punishment but with love of learning—and to provide universal income so poverty no longer blocks learning. He envisions a future where children wake up in a world full of culture, music, books, and food, safe and cheerful; where modern culture reaches every neighborhood, preventing slavery and war; and where by 2057 the world celebrates peace and wisdom.

The post recounts the author’s journey through multiple programming languages—starting with PHP and Perl, moving into Java and JavaScript—and culminates in their current full‑stack workflow using modern JavaScript tools. They explain how the evolution of web technologies—from early UI frameworks like Flex and Flash to today’s responsive libraries such as Bootstrap—has shaped their development style. The author highlights the convenience of JavaScript for rapid prototyping, the power of Babel for transpiling next‑generation syntax, and the event‑driven nature of engine.io that simplifies server communication. They also showcase how tools like Svelte automate UI updates, while Gulp and Vinyl provide a lightweight build system, allowing them to create custom code editors on the fly. Overall, the piece celebrates the synergy of these technologies in enabling a single developer to design and maintain both client‑side interfaces and server logic with minimal boilerplate.

I propose that the future of programming lies in a self‑guided, visual IDE that replaces the old terminal and “smartphone” concept with a simple, three‑column layout: an event list, a function list that processes those events, and a test list for each function—all beneath a code editor where the programmer can edit the handler and its tests. By adding a “build” button the system automatically generates a ready module (node stream or command‑line app) that can be committed locally, letting newcomers focus on writing logic rather than boilerplate while still seeing how their functions integrate into an EventEmitter pattern. This approach should make programming accessible to the modern teenager and keep the programmer’s role alive in an era where smartphones are viewed as too simple for true development.

The post describes a world beset by war, famine, and looming nuclear threats, where evil acts are largely the result of chance, chaos, and poverty rather than deliberate design. It argues that “evil men” are shaped by extreme hardship and lack of education, not innate traits, and can be healed through education—specifically by establishing schools that illuminate minds and provide a place to return for those who have lost their way. The author emphasizes the power of honest answers and shared knowledge (even via audio) to unite humanity as one family and to prevent further fracturing, urging readers to maintain faith in people, gain wisdom, and become “great beings” so that pain and tragedy can be transformed into lasting meaning.

The post explains how JavaScript’s EventEmitter works—events are fired (e.g., a mouse click), carry data like `x=5` or `user=alice`, listeners are set up to react, and some libraries let you use wildcards to listen to many events—and then tells a story about an interview where a candidate built a program around these concepts but over‑engineered it with extra abstractions that made the code hard to read. The author praises a minimal EventEmitter architecture as clean and extensible, and suggests visualizing it as a graph: nodes for listeners, edges for emitted events, so if‑statements become just more listeners in the chain. By treating variables as data carried by events, you can click on a listener to see its inputs. In short, the post argues that using EventEmitters keeps code simple and maintainable, and visualizing them as graphs helps understand, track, and generate such systems.

During a weekend stay in a State Park, I set up a campfire and cooked hot dogs while a nearby family of teens unpacked beside my tent. While listening to an iPod playing Paul Strathern’s “Philosophy in 90 Minutes” series, I chatted with the family’s mother about audiobooks and shared firewood, batteries, and bug spray. Afterward, I recounted Bill Bryson’s “I’m a Stranger Here‑Myself,” humorously noting Grover Cleveland’s window‑pee anecdote, before renewing my parking permit at the dune trailhead and meeting a couple of regular visitors. The day continued with scenic climbs, observation platforms, and encounters with deer, horses, and even a raccoon drawing I’d shown to the park ranger. Throughout, I enjoyed the lush pine canopy, the quiet beach‑like lake, and the varied “seasons” of Nordhouse that made the woods feel both calm and vibrant.

The post describes an innovative, open‑school format that uses interactive left and right panes—guidance and hands‑on manipulation—to let students build products (from simple web themes to phone apps) without time limits or grades, relying instead on unit tests and a marketplace where customers post component requests with budgets; multiple students can submit solutions, the best is chosen by the poster, and payouts are distributed (e.g., $900 for the winner, $10 symbolic rewards for others), while the school collects a fee—an approach that aims to pay students for instruction and production, encourage real‑world product creation, and motivate continuous improvement through feedback from users; the author believes such an environment enables learning of math, physics, chemistry, and art via interactive visualizations (e.g., converting notation to code as in 3Blue1Brown) and Blender tutorials, with tutorial videos and live support seen as key assets that can lift students out of poverty.

The post argues that teachers should let students pursue their own interests so that learning becomes meaningful rather than rote memorization, noting that overwork or stress hampers self‑education; it claims bad grades push students into temporary recall instead of real understanding, and that schools often kill creativity and need to be repaired by encouraging independent study of wise books and adventurous experiences, which ultimately leads to personal growth and greatness.

The post argues that building a successful solo‑programming business is difficult because you’re up against multi‑person startups, but failure can become an asset: by learning what works and selling those solutions to other startups, you turn experience into reusable products. It contrasts the solitary coder’s chaotic creativity with collaborative teams, suggesting that solo developers thrive when they focus on code generation—using simple template engines like ejs or AST tools—to automate boilerplate and quickly produce marketable items such as website themes in JavaScript; this approach not only speeds development but also creates a repeatable product line that can be sold, turning individual coding effort into a scalable business model.

After reflecting on how schools often fail to deliver lifelong learning, I argue that self‑education—beginning with acclaimed non‑fiction titles and continuing through hands‑on projects such as digital painting in Krita, 3D modeling in Blender, or JavaScript programming—provides the real path to intellectual independence. By embracing curiosity, treating learning as a joyful adventure rather than a graded test, and taking responsibility for one’s own growth, students can become “great beings” who build better schools that lift humanity out of poverty.

The post explains that programming boils down to organizing data and behavior into a coherent structure using the core building blocks of variables, functions, if‑statements, loops, and objects—each grouping the others in a natural hierarchy. Variables hold values (like “serverAddress = 'example.com'”), functions perform actions or return new variables, if‑statements branch logic, loops iterate over collections, and objects bundle related variables and methods together (e.g., `player.go('north')` or `room.connect('north', createRoom('Bathroom'))`). The author illustrates this with a MUD example where rooms, players, and inventory items are all objects that expose methods such as `.go()` and `.drop()`. He further notes that HTML tags can be seen as dehydrated object hierarchies, and templating engines like Svelte hydrate them back into live objects. In short, the article shows how to think of a program as a nested set of objects whose properties (variables) and methods (functions) are orchestrated by control flow (if/loop), making JavaScript an ideal language for building such structures.

The post proposes a cookbook‑style guide for learning math and programming in a real‑world context—specifically as a tool to lift people out of poverty. It frames each lesson like a recipe, with clear examples (including links to video tutorials) that students can browse, test, and master at their own pace, gaining “powers” to tackle more complex tasks. The guide also includes practical challenges such as building a startup from idea to funding, all designed for one person to complete without discouragement. Finally it envisions the book being freely available in the public domain or under GPL, inviting community contributions of bugs, repairs, translations and enhancements, with the ultimate goal that learning “grows up” until everyone becomes wise and great beings.

The author proposes re‑structuring education into a flexible, tree‑like system of subject clusters drawn from real‑world fields such as those listed in Y Combinator’s RFS (e.g., Education, Software, VR/AR, AI, Healthcare, Government 2.0, Nature & Adventure, Art, Design, Music, Web/App Development, 3D Modeling, Open‑source OS, Jewelry via JSCAD, etc.), allowing students to explore and revisit topics at their own pace; they argue that current subject divisions are wrong, schools are misused, and war is a distraction for leaders; they envision an economy where universal income (US$100/day) supports students, who learn math by applying it to entrepreneurial projects; the system eliminates grades and graduation, keeping doors open for continuous learning.

The post argues that creative pursuits—painting, programming, composing, rhyming, singing, sculpting, building, and inventing—are all forms of genuine knowledge because they interconnect and reinforce each other. It illustrates this with 3‑D modeling, where understanding vertices, edges, and faces is essential not only for the models themselves but also for designing effective user interfaces; mastering these concepts enables richer UI design even when it seems complex at first glance. The author then describes a “hacker” as an educated, cross‑disciplinary thinker who can surpass specialists by applying knowledge from one domain to another, and emphasizes that such versatility is rare but powerful. Finally, the post laments how modern schooling often delivers fragmented, pre‑packaged learning that stifles this cross‑stream thinking; it calls for a reformed education system that nurtures continuous growth and creative synthesis rather than rigid grades or standardized exams.

The post argues that contemporary schooling relies on a system of threats—bad grades, class attendance, lunch fees—and the promise of future benefits (military enlistment, college admission, student loans) to keep students obedient, but this approach neglects real learning and curiosity. The author claims that grades are merely a fabricated metric used by teachers and colleges to gauge performance rather than knowledge, and that interviews and standardized curricula further reinforce cramming over true understanding. He suggests that if education were truly based on knowledge and self‑driven exploration, students could launch startups, deepen their expertise, and achieve real growth instead of merely pretending to succeed for future opportunities.

The author argues that many problems—crime, war, poverty—stem from a “sequence” of misapplied fixes rather than true solutions: people become criminals when stress turns ordinary individuals into hardened actors, yet prisons only lock them in that state; similarly, women’s lack of education is a deliberate tool to keep them obedient and prevent uprisings. He calls for real, individualized learning—beyond “fake” schooling—to empower people to start businesses, innovate, and escape poverty. Finally he urges the world to adopt universal income and free, quality education as a means of rebuilding humanity, so that every nation can offer its citizens true learning and thereby unleash their greatness.

The post opens with a rant about the endless troubles in programming and the irony that writing less code sometimes brings more success, then critiques confusing languages, startup advice, and broken interfaces; it proposes that real value comes from letting users build simple programs on their phones by composing small “actions” into sequential groups, providing an action marketplace and attaching conversational user‑interface components to those actions so that each step can pop up with its own UI when executed—an approach grounded in functional programming that keeps the program structure clear while giving users a tangible way to create, customize, and monetize their apps.

The post paints a poetic picture of a “multiplex” that burns books, builds walls and prisons, destroys minds, and feeds on poverty and distraction—only needing five books to infect the mind. It says its greatest fear is the non‑follower, the hidden thinker, and proposes that the cure lies in the voices of young people who narrate their own knowledge: by reading, speaking out against old ways, they become philosophers, artists and scientists, understand politics, heal divisions, and bring humanity toward greatness.

The post celebrates the accessibility of web‑development tutorials by highlighting Svelte’s clean, step‑by‑step guide (and its counterparts in Vue.js and React), and argues that learning programming is a matter of building mental scaffolds rather than memorizing formulas; it points out how prior knowledge speeds up the process and how free‑form tools like p5.js let you explore math through sound, graphics, and vector manipulation—so that the routine calculations become automatic and you can reinvent concepts such as vectors, magnets or attractors—ultimately stressing that programming offers limitless horizons for anyone who pursues it on their own terms.

The post reflects on individual learning styles and the need for personalized reading, asserting that each person’s pace and sequence of understanding are shaped by their own knowledge and experiences; it argues that no single textbook can teach everyone, but every book offers useful ideas suited to its reader. It notes how passion can be lost under waiting lists or insufficient prerequisites, and how authentic learning empowers one to spot liars and manipulators in a world overwhelmed by pretenders. The author calls for self‑education through countless powerful books, stressing that only by rising above poverty, stress, and misdirected curricula can we recover peace, safety, and wisdom.