Debugging code is a pain, a neverending cycle of detail and diagnoses that never ends. Finally, after looking for days and perhaps weeks on end, you discover it's not a typo or bad code but rather a logical failure from you that has caused all the trouble. That is the nature of applied mathematics, and it's the reason why we all go mad doing it. The madness of programming gets into every pore. If it weren't for the fact that the result is a fascinating and wonderful simplified version of reality (or total dross) it would be a total waste of time for all concerned.
Recently I have begun to learn a new programming language for my mathematics, the new-fangled Python 3, and it hasn't been a total nightmare at all. While pursuing my PhD at Nottingham we had access to the proprietary software MATLAB, and when I finished I was dreading the conversion but it turns out to be very similar. The only problem is that the plotting module hasn't been updated up to Python 3 yet, so it's third party time for all you plotters or a journey back to Python 2! I also use FreeFEM++ but can't talk about it as it almost destroyed my mentality on any number of occasions and haunts me still. There's more documentation and a forum for FreeFEM++ now though (mutter mutter), making it much nicer. Go to Python, people, go!
Still, I guess some people don't come here to read about bugs and coding, and the joys of Python. They don't care that the new version of Minecraft came out today or even that I would argue that 'The Red Headed League' is perhaps the best Sherlock Holmes story, or most memorable at least. I shall therefore segue into something totally random.
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claque (noun): a group of followers hired to applaud at a performance
peculate (verb): appropriate (as property entrusted to one's care) fraudulently to one's own use
It seems obvious to me that it is very unwise to entrust your own claque to a friend lest they be irresponsibly peculated. Alas, it was a common occurrence in Music Hall and Vaudeville and ultimately led to the downfall of John "The Sergeant" Smithelbaum who was lynched by a group of former friends and colleagues and hoist on his own petard so high that passing zeppelins would honk in passing.
Oliver.
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