You know that burning feeling you get, in the center of your chest, your very core, when you just need to get something magnificent done? Not just a frequent thing like doing laundry, or cleaning the house, but something life vindicating? Because I’ve got that lately. I’ve spent the past month taking care of all of the heat that the part-time is getting, purely for the sake of this; January should be just boring enough to finish everything off.
I say I’m a systems engineer, but generally only when I want to change subjects. The long answer is that I build machines that build universes. I have a degree that redefined what it means to be “hard-earned”; in the fields of Physics and Neuroscience. I’ve been programming since I was a tyke. I’ve been writing since I was ten years old. All of this ultimately accumulates toward the same end goal. The whole point of building simulators is to answer “what if”. Stories, games, the entertainment of the future; it’s all in systems and simulation. Everything is and always has been about that.
Back in the 1960s and 70s, before the personal computer was standing up and walking on two feet, aerospace companies like Boeing used to build tiny scale models of their aircraft before the actual prototype was ever constructed. The idea was, given that a specific part goes out and needs to be replaced on such-and-such an aeroplane, what are we going to have to pull way to get to it? What would be the cost model? If half of the aeroplane had to be pulled apart to get to a specific gearbox, then the lifetime of that gearbox might be the lifetime of the aeroplane. The design might be too expensive to fix.
Were these micro-models expensive? Absolutely. However, they were much cheaper than figuring this out only after the aircraft was built. They were worth every penny, and every replacement model was worth every penny in turn. I look at this chop-shop job, and I remind myself that. It’s my funding and my micro-model.
Yesterday, I finished off the better part of a detailed three dimensional collision detection system, with an outline to covering four dimensions if the need ever arises. It’s as modular and expandable as it can get. It was harder than it sounded, it was twice as much fun, and it’s completely self-validating. When I’m done with this, all I’ll need to worry about is penning, sculpting, composing, and storyboarding.
That, my friends, is the best Christmas present ever. Happy Solstice!
[Note: image is a rambled selfie with tonight’s desert, an orange chocolate mousse with raspberries and freshly whipped cream]