I’m a sucker for offbeat, quirky documentaries. My favorites have a little dose of crazy – either in the characters or the story or both. For me, the craziness is what makes it human and compelling.
I’m a sucker for offbeat, quirky documentaries. My favorites have a little dose of crazy – either in the characters or the story or both. For me, the craziness is what makes it human and compelling.
Oftentimes, when I start a new book my initial enthusiasm gets me through the first chapter or two. Then comes the moment of truth.
Yesterday my co-workers kindly threw me a little going away party (or a “leaving do” as the Brits call them). Below is the text of a poem I wrote to mark the occasion.
You’ve probably heard the famous George Bernard Shaw quote about America and Britain being “two nations divided by a common language”.
(Image courtesy of https://claudeai.wiki/)
I switched on the power and stood back, not knowing what to expect. Led lights briefly flickered and in an instant I heard someone, or something, call out to me, in a surprisingly natural sounding voice:
My daughter, Maya, is growing up too quickly. At some point the little girl who used to love to jump into my arms turned into a sophisticated pre-teen with an aversion to displays of affection, especially toward her father. That’s why the hand on my arm took me by surprise.
As a long time chess player, I’ve often thought of chess as a metaphor for life. Decisions made at the chess board, like those made in life, can never be undone so you need to choose your moves carefully. As Thomas Wolfe said, “You can’t go home again”.
How do you know when you’ve enjoyed a book? That seems like a silly question, doesn’t it? But books are mixed bags, not all good or all bad.

I'm an American software engineer based in London.
My mission is building tools, tutorials, and online courses to help make computing, mathematics, and data science more accessible and more inclusive.