GlareDB is a fast SQL database for querying and analyzing distributed data. GitHub: https://github.com/GlareDB/glaredb

GlareDB

glaredb

Introduction It has been a while since my last “What the heck is?” article, and I’ve recently seen some rapid growth from and wanted to learn more. What really piqued my interest was the recent announcements of support for and a new model. So, what the heck is GlareDB? Let’s take a look! GlareDB Apache Iceberg hybrid execution Overview GlareDB is an project utilizing the project, part of the Apache Arrow project. DataFusion is a fast, extensible query engine for building high-quality data-centric systems in , using the in-memory format. It offers SQL and Dataframe APIs and built-in support for CSV, Parquet, JSON, and Avro. There are also as well as extensive customization possibilities. GlareDB is adding many features on top of it, such as cloud storage and the aforementioned hybrid execution feature, providing a  layer on top of various compute engines that can: open-source DataFusion Rust Apache Arrow Python bindings Query local and remote files Query other databases and data sources Store data and queries (as views) Copy data from sources to destinations Interop with DataFrame libraries in Python Run one-off queries from the command line They describe how it fits in the stack in this diagram: It supports data located on GCS or S3 of the following types: BigQuery MongoDB (early release) MySQL Postgres Snowflake Preliminary Iceberg support Redshift (coming soon) ClickHouse (coming soon) They are quickly adding support for various engines, so this list could be incomplete by the time you read this. What can I do with it? At first blush, you look at this and think, hey, this seems a lot like in that it is a federated query engine. On second glance, it seems kind of like for a couple of reasons. The first is that, like DuckDB, GlareDB is a single, tight executable but written in Rust instead of C++. Second, they also support having this model (MotherDuck did it first), which I’ll cover shortly. Trino Motherduck hybrid execution Given that Trino is written in Java, that means there is a lot of Java ecosystem you need to deal with if you want to use it. Sure, there are pre-built Docker containers around that can shorten this path, but generally, if you are “just trying to do something,” then you have a heavy lift to install and set up Trino. With GlareDB, you have a single executable to download and use or make use of their SaaS product, which looks like this when you first use it: Now to Hybrid Execution. I’ll paraphrase some of what GlareDB had to say in their blog post on the topic. Say you have a CSV list of user IDs that had gotten extracted from some other tool from your database. Now, you want to enrich that data with some of the user's demographic information from your database. We’ll say our table name is user_demo and our CSV file is user_id.csv, and our query would look something like this: SELECT
   m.user_id,
   m.first_name,
   m.last_name,
   m.birth_date
FROM
   user_demo m
INNER JOIN '/user_id.csv' u on m.user_id = u.id
GROUP BY m.user_id; Clearly, this is a simple example, but you could enhance it to get information out of other joined tables as well. You can also go in the other direction, where you have some local file with a key field and some data you are interested in that you can join to a table in a database where that extra data in the file doesn’t exist in the database. This has the advantage of not having to go through the process of creating a new table and loading it for this ad-hoc report, thus saving a lot of time. That’s all just meant to give you a quick tickle about what GlareDB can do and where it is at currently. The docs and blogs on their site are well done, making it pretty quick to jump in. Summary GlareDB is very interesting, and I appreciate how quickly they are iterating and updating the software. I need to spend some more time thinking about how it plays in the , or space. Between the speed and the federated queries, there are some exciting possibilities. I really like the new hybrid execution, which could shortcut work in various situations. Try out a free account yourself if you’d like to give it a spin at . Trino StarRocks, DuckDB GlareDB You can read the other “What the heck” articles at these links: (I was pretty out front on this one.) What The Heck Is DuckDB? (I was out front on this one, too.) What the Heck Is Malloy? (slower, but also growing) What the Heck is PRQL?

What the Heck is GlareDB?

Introduction Late in 2023, I was considering writing an article about Acorn Labs' work simplifying Kubernetes containers. I even started it and wrote a few paragraphs, but then I got busy with other things. At the time, I was going to revisit it in February 2024, they made a couple of announcements; one was for Rubra, and the other was more of a personal project by one of the co-founders, Darren Shepherd, called GPTScript. This project was so exciting that a month later, Acorn announced they were changing their company focus to GPTScript (not sure what would happen to Rubra). I’ve been following all the developments on this project, closer than I typically do, because I find it absolutely amazing as enablement technology. It reminds me of the philosophy behind a product I worked with back in the 80s and 90s called MPEX from VESOFT, written by Eugen Volokh. What Darren has done with GPTScript is kind of hard to wrap your head around at first, especially for a programmer. I haven’t spent enough time with it yet to fully understand all the implications, but I have a lot of thoughts about it. In this article, I’ll walk through some basic introductions and examples and give you some thoughts about where you could take it. Getting Started I worked off the docs and various videos and examples; I gave this a go on my Windows 11 laptop. Let’s get this sucker installed: winget install gptscript-ai.gptscript
$env:OPENAI_API_KEY = 'your-api-key' The docs suggest running a “hello world” example at this point, but that isn’t very interesting, so let’s try the “bob” example. Also, note that there are many built-in examples you can get a list of by issuing the gptscript—-list-tools command and an online ‘examples’ directory. What does “bob.gpt” look like? This presents us with some obvious questions, like what this all means and how a value of ‘How are you doing?’ ended up in the ‘question’ argument. GPTScript operates around the notion of tools where a tool is described in a GPT file. Each file can be made up of more than one named tool, separated by three dashes. Borrowing from the docs, Tool parameters are key-value pairs defined at the beginning of a tool block before any instructional text. They are specified in the format key: value. The parser recognizes the following keys (case-insensitive and spaces are ignored): A tool starts with a preamble that defines the tool's name, description, args, available tools, and additional parameters. The preamble is followed by the tool's body, which contains the instructions for the tool. Comments in the preamble are lines starting with # and are ignored by the parser. Comments are not really encouraged as the text is typically more useful in the description, argument descriptions, or instructions. I’m still not sure why Bob was giving a default value for the argument. It would change if I gave it an argument, so that was a bit of a mystery. I decided to try the samples-readme.gpt script, which looks like this: Reading this, I understood that it would give me a summary of each gpt file in the examples directory. When I first tried it without an argument, it failed to find any input, so I tried with an example file as an argument, and it worked. Then I tried it with their larger example script for hacker-news-headlines, and instead, it did what I thought it should have done the first time. It created a readme.md file in the examples directory with a summary of each example. I’ve seen people in the community starting to generate some very cool tools that are being added to the GPTScript tools web page. I had a little bit of mixed results with my tests. Most things worked as expected, but I had a few things that didn’t, and I didn’t have the opportunity to dig deeper. That said, this is clearly powerful, and it is just scratching the surface. Summary As a lifelong programmer, this feels weird; it involves doing things in ways that seem like something is missing. This makes GPTScript fascinating and scary as if black magic is involved somehow. The natural language and loose feel of it take a little getting used to, but as you think about it, you start to realize how amazing this can be as an enablement technology. One of the first things that came to mind, but I didn’t test, was could this be used to drive OpenFoam? OpenFoam is open-source CFD software that is rather notorious for how difficult it is to use, which is why I never learned how to use it. What if I could just describe what I wanted to do with it, and it worked? Imagine doing this with any software with an API you could talk to. My mind starts to explode thinking about it. Acorn has created an online “tools” catalog that you can utilize, and they are iterating at an insane pace. This is really exciting. Check out my other What the Heck is… articles at the links below: What The Heck Is DuckDB?
What the Heck Is Malloy?
What the Heck is PRQL?
What the Heck is GlareDB?
What the Heck is SeaTunnel?
What the Heck is LanceDB?
What the heck is SDF?
What the Heck is Paimon?
What the Heck is Proton?
What the Heck is PuppyGraph? Introduction Introduction Late in 2023, I was considering writing an article about Acorn Labs ' work simplifying Kubernetes containers. I even started it and wrote a few paragraphs, but then I got busy with other things. At the time, I was going to revisit it in February 2024, they made a couple of announcements; one was for Rubra, and the other was more of a personal project by one of the co-founders, Darren Shepherd , called GPTScript . Acorn Labs Acorn Labs Darren Shepherd Darren Shepherd GPTScript GPTScript This project was so exciting that a month later, Acorn announced they were changing their company focus to GPTScript (not sure what would happen to Rubra). announced announced I’ve been following all the developments on this project, closer than I typically do, because I find it absolutely amazing as enablement technology. It reminds me of the philosophy behind a product I worked with back in the 80s and 90s called MPEX from VESOFT, written by Eugen Volokh. What Darren has done with GPTScript is kind of hard to wrap your head around at first, especially for a programmer. I haven’t spent enough time with it yet to fully understand all the implications, but I have a lot of thoughts about it. In this article, I’ll walk through some basic introductions and examples and give you some thoughts about where you could take it. Getting Started I worked off the docs and various videos and examples; I gave this a go on my Windows 11 laptop. Let’s get this sucker installed: docs docs winget install gptscript-ai.gptscript
$env:OPENAI_API_KEY = 'your-api-key' winget install gptscript-ai.gptscript
$env:OPENAI_API_KEY = 'your-api-key' The docs suggest running a “hello world” example at this point, but that isn’t very interesting, so let’s try the “bob” example. Also, note that there are many built-in examples you can get a list of by issuing the gptscript—-list-tools command and an online ‘ examples ’ directory. examples examples What does “bob.gpt” look like? This presents us with some obvious questions, like what this all means and how a value of ‘How are you doing?’ ended up in the ‘question’ argument. GPTScript operates around the notion of tools where a tool is described in a GPT file. Each file can be made up of more than one named tool, separated by three dashes. tools Borrowing from the docs, Tool parameters are key-value pairs defined at the beginning of a tool block before any instructional text. They are specified in the format key: value. The parser recognizes the following keys (case-insensitive and spaces are ignored): Tool parameters are key-value pairs defined at the beginning of a tool block before any instructional text. They are specified in the format key: value. The parser recognizes the following keys (case-insensitive and spaces are ignored): A tool starts with a preamble that defines the tool's name, description, args, available tools, and additional parameters. The preamble is followed by the tool's body, which contains the instructions for the tool. Comments in the preamble are lines starting with # and are ignored by the parser. Comments are not really encouraged as the text is typically more useful in the description, argument descriptions, or instructions. A tool starts with a preamble that defines the tool's name, description, args, available tools, and additional parameters. The preamble is followed by the tool's body, which contains the instructions for the tool. Comments in the preamble are lines starting with # and are ignored by the parser. Comments are not really encouraged as the text is typically more useful in the description, argument descriptions, or instructions. I’m still not sure why Bob was giving a default value for the argument. It would change if I gave it an argument, so that was a bit of a mystery. I decided to try the samples-readme.gpt script, which looks like this: Bob samples-readme.gpt Reading this, I understood that it would give me a summary of each gpt file in the examples directory. When I first tried it without an argument, it failed to find any input, so I tried with an example file as an argument, and it worked. Then I tried it with their larger example script for hacker-news-headlines , and instead, it did what I thought it should have done the first time. It created a readme.md file in the examples directory with a summary of each example. hacker-news-headlines readme.md I’ve seen people in the community starting to generate some very cool tools that are being added to the GPTScript tools web page. I had a little bit of mixed results with my tests. Most things worked as expected, but I had a few things that didn’t, and I didn’t have the opportunity to dig deeper. That said, this is clearly powerful, and it is just scratching the surface. Summary As a lifelong programmer, this feels weird; it involves doing things in ways that seem like something is missing. This makes GPTScript fascinating and scary as if black magic is involved somehow. The natural language and loose feel of it take a little getting used to, but as you think about it, you start to realize how amazing this can be as an enablement technology. One of the first things that came to mind, but I didn’t test, was could this be used to drive OpenFoam ? OpenFoam is open-source CFD software that is rather notorious for how difficult it is to use, which is why I never learned how to use it. What if I could just describe what I wanted to do with it, and it worked? Imagine doing this with any software with an API you could talk to. OpenFoam OpenFoam My mind starts to explode thinking about it. Acorn has created an online “ tools ” catalog that you can utilize, and they are iterating at an insane pace. This is really exciting. tools tools Check out my other What the Heck is… articles at the links below: What The Heck Is DuckDB? What the Heck Is Malloy? What the Heck is PRQL? What the Heck is GlareDB? What the Heck is SeaTunnel? What the Heck is LanceDB? What the heck is SDF? What the Heck is Paimon? What the Heck is Proton? What the Heck is PuppyGraph? What The Heck Is DuckDB? What The Heck Is DuckDB? What the Heck Is Malloy? What the Heck Is Malloy? What the Heck is PRQL? What the Heck is PRQL? What the Heck is GlareDB? What the Heck is GlareDB? What the Heck is SeaTunnel? What the Heck is SeaTunnel? What the Heck is LanceDB? What the Heck is LanceDB? What the heck is SDF? What the heck is SDF? What the Heck is Paimon? What the Heck is Paimon? What the Heck is Proton? What the Heck is Proton? What the Heck is PuppyGraph? What the Heck is PuppyGraph?

What the Heck Is GPTScript?

What the heck is ? That was the first thing I asked myself when I came across it in the Summer of 2023. It was my involvement with that brought it to my attention; they wanted to add Iceberg support to PuppyGraph, but just what the heck is it? PuppyGraph Apache Iceberg This blog is going to be more of a hot take on PuppyGraph to get you thinking about how you might use it in your own projects. I have no affiliation with the company or project other than thinking it was pretty cool. Co-founder recently (Feb 2024) gave a presentation at the that was interesting, and well received, according to my friends that were there. Weimo Liu Chill Data Summit What is PuppyGraph? Simply, PuppyGraph is a cloud-native graph data lakehouse providing a graph analytics engine for your data. They address graph scalability through the auto-sharding of data so the compute and storage are separate, much like the lakehouse design. So, they provide a graph data warehouse, data lake, and multi-data models on a single copy of your data. That means you can do some pretty cool graphing on your data in one of the supported formats. What can it connect to? PuppyGraph has rapidly added support for various platforms, catalogs, and connection engines. Currently, we see: Apache Iceberg Apache Hudi Delta Lake MySQL PostgreSQL DuckDB BigQuery Redshift LanceDB (coming soon) JDBC Catalog Data Lake Catalog Hive Metastore AWS Glue Their SaaS interface also gives you direct access to both a Gremlin and Cypher console to perform graph queries, in addition to a graph notebook, which uses Jupyter. Using PuppyGraph A Docker container is provided to allow you to get started on a local machine. You’ll need a schema defined in JSON format that will define your data layout to PuppyGraph. Once you ingest that and it is verified, then away you go. The integrated graph browser is pretty nifty. You can easily zoom in/out to see the clustering and attributes in addition to queries. Zooming in further, we can see more of the details: Clicking on a node will give us a pop-up of details: This allows you to explore different vertices and edges easily. These static pictures don’t really represent how fast the performance is or how much fun it is to bounce around your data. I should have utilized some genealogical data for fun. Because they are using the Gremlin and Cypher query languages, that means any 3rd party UI tool will also be compatible. A real advantage here is that PuppyGraph works on the data where it lives and isn’t making you copy it elsewhere. Without going into the particulars on a specific platform, this gives you a general idea of what features and functions are available. Summary Certainly, graph databases and their representation don’t apply generically as a structured database does, but we are seeing more and more how these kinds of data representations are being used to model the real world. I didn’t see that this is an open-source project, and I didn’t find it on GitHub. There is no mention of pricing, so I’m not sure where they are going with all of this. The documentation isn’t amazing, but it seems to be enough to get started and try it out. Overall, this is a fun project to play with. I need to percolate on it more to see where I might use it, but I can envision some interesting use cases combining it with other self-contained projects like DuckDB and LanceDB. Check out my other What the Heck is… articles at the links below: What The Heck Is DuckDB? What the Heck Is Malloy? What the Heck is PRQL? What the Heck is GlareDB? What the Heck is SeaTunnel? What the Heck is LanceDB? What the heck is SDF? What the Heck is Paimon? What the Heck is Proton?

What the Heck is PuppyGraph?

This series of articles has been a lot of fun for me as I have learned about and explored new technology. It’s also fun to see what has been catching on since I first discovered it. My last article on was incredibly popular, much to my surprise, but it seems I wasn’t the only one interested in what the heck it was. Thanks to that article, I ran across the open-source Apache 2.0 licensed project, , sponsored by . It’s a SQL database that accommodates both historical and streaming data. Written in C++ and powered by , the focus is on simplicity and performance. With a single executable, installation is simple. Apache Paimon Proton Timeplus ClickHouse A trend I’ve seen is that more and more real-time analytics applications are being built, but you don’t want to build them twice. Once for streaming and once for the historical backfill. There would be definite advantages to having a single platform that could query in either batch or streaming mode or even a hybrid mode where you are joining historical data to a stream of incoming data. It appears that Proton was built to do just that. Proton Overview In a nutshell, we have a ClickHouse database, and Timeplus has added support for streaming services. That should get you a Flink-like query engine and Kafka-like streaming storage with that ClickHouse database. So, what does that look like? The dotted line is where Proton comes in. I suggest reading through the docs to get a good sense of what is possible. architecture To create a random stream of data and query it with Proton, we can do something like this: -- Create a stream with random data.
CREATE RANDOM STREAM devices(device string default 'device'||to_string(rand()%4), temperature float default rand()%1000/10);

-- Run the long-running stream query.
SELECT device, count(*), min(temperature), max(temperature) FROM devices GROUP BY device;

┌─device──┬─count()─┬─min(temperature)─┬─max(temperature)─┐
│ device0 │    2256 │                0 │             99.6 │
│ device1 │    2260 │              0.1 │             99.7 │
│ device3 │    2259 │              0.3 │             99.9 │
│ device2 │    2225 │              0.2 │             99.8 │
└─────────┴─────────┴──────────────────┴──────────────────┘ Proton Features Proton has many nifty features; one that struck me immediately was the ability to create a materialized view to save specific events in Proton. Borrowing from the documentation, let’s say you have a Kafka stream reporting web events, and you want to save the broken link reports so you can query them later, even with Kafka down or the events removed. It would look something like this: create materialized view mv_broken_links as
select raw:requestedUrl as url,raw:method as method, raw:ipAddress as ip, 
       raw:response.statusCode as statusCode, domain(raw:headers.referrer)
as referrer
from frontend_events where raw:response.statusCode<>'200'; Then, if you want to directly query the materialized view and make a bar chart from the data, it would look like this: -- streaming query
select * from mv_broken_links;

-- historical query
select method, count() as cnt, bar(cnt,0,40,5) as bar from table(mv_broken_links) 
group by method order by cnt desc;

┌─method─┬─cnt─┬─bar─┐
│ GET    │  25 │ ███ │
│ DELETE │  20 │ ██▌ │
│ HEAD   │  17 │ ██  │
│ POST   │  17 │ ██  │
│ PUT    │  17 │ ██  │
│ PATCH  │  17 │ ██  │
└────────┴─────┴─────┘ Some of this functionality reminds me of , a company I worked at a few years ago. Upsolver Drivers for other languages are available for Java, Go, and Python. Using Proton with something like would be a minimal footprint for streaming historical data. Redpanda There are a lot of other features available, but this isn’t meant to be a tutorial. I want to do a light explanation and draw attention to some features. The docs are concise and, overall, well written, certainly better than many open-source projects. Summary While I don’t personally need this kind of arrangement at the moment, I’ve certainly been at places and seen companies where this would be very, very cool to have. As cool as this guy? Probably not, but then again, nothing is :). Frivolity aside, the Proton team has done an excellent job documenting the project and making it as simple to install and use as possible. I love these single-binary projects that don’t need a vast Java ecosystem with tons of dependencies. Make no mistake, though, Timeplus has a commercial version that gives you more capability than the stock Proton release. However, they seem to be very supportive of Proton and welcoming of the community. Check out my other What the Heck is… articles at the links below: What The Heck Is DuckDB? What the Heck Is Malloy? What the Heck is PRQL? What the Heck is GlareDB? What the Heck is SeaTunnel? What the Heck is LanceDB? What the heck is SDF? What the Heck is Paimon?

What the Heck is Proton?

হেক প্রোটন কি?

Was zum Teufel ist Proton?

¿Qué diablos es el protón?

Qu'est-ce que c'est que Proton ?

आख़िर प्रोटोन क्या है?

プロトンって一体何なの？

양성자는 도대체 무엇입니까?

O que diabos é próton?

Что, черт возьми, такое Протон?

Proton nedir?

Proton là cái quái gì vậy?

质子到底是什么？

Introduction You’ve heard of data warehouses, you’ve probably heard of data lakes and the data lakehouse, but have you heard of the “Streamhouse”? Well, that’s what “they” call the new data tech unlock possible with . So, just what the heck is it? Let’s find out! Apache Paimon A company named Ververica, the original creator of , looks pretty excited about Paimon, but Jingsong Lee primarily created it at Alibaba. The purpose initially was to address the inability to query a Flink Dynamic Table, which resulted in the community proposing . Apache Flink FLIP-188: Introduce Built-in Dynamic Table Storage Paimon can be thought of as a table format for batch and stream processing. I’ve written a couple of times about the big three table formats and . here here Paimon Overview The short version of what Paimon does is that it provides a streaming storage layer and extends Flink's capability to do stream processing directly on the data lake. The use case seems to be tightly coupled to Flink at the moment by giving you a more flexible and persistent storage layer for your streaming data. Instead of using the ‘InMemory Catalog’, you would set up a ‘Paimon Catalog’ like other table formats. That would look something like this: CREATE CATALOG paimon WITH (
   'type' = 'paimon',
   'Warehouse' = '<path to your warehouse>'
);
USE CATALOG PAIMON; To explain the flow, I’m going to borrow a screenshot from the by Giannis Polyzos, excellent blog If you aren’t familiar with what an LSM Tree (Log-Structured Merge) is, then I suggest by Vishal Rana. I think he did a nice job explaining it. this blog So, Paimon can be used to replace message queues, providing a storage layer for Flink that is a table format. As a streaming data lake platform, it allows users to process data in both batch and streaming modes, supporting: High-speed data ingestion Change data tracking Real-time analytics High throughput data writing Low-latency data queries Batch writes and reads Streaming updates Changelog producing Where It Applies The first few use cases that occurred to me were gaming, IoT devices, stock trading, and services like Uber. There is generally a lot of data coming in quickly, and you probably need to be able to do something actionable from it. I remember having to deal with combining streaming data from ad impressions and ad clicks to get insights on advertising data as another example. Having this kind of a materialized view and a table format defined on it would certainly have been helpful. I bet you can think of some use cases that would help you out. Borrowing another screenshot from Giannis Polyzos, we see how we are getting to what is being called a “Streamhouse.” I found this very interesting after my time in the (compute engine) and (table format) communities. PrestoDB Apache Iceberg Streaming would come up fairly often with Iceberg, and there is an argument out there that the Apache Hudi table format is better for that use case. Paimon can also have some issues with Change Data Capture (CDC) ingestion into a data lake. It simplifies the CDC pipeline, supporting synchronizing CDC data with schema changes, streaming changelog tracking, and a partial-update merge engine. Summary As I researched for this blog, I thought Paimon and Seatunnel would make an exciting combination for a real-time data warehouse. Then I ran across this blog, “ ” from back in May 2023, so clearly, I’m not the first to think about this idea. Apache SeaTunnel and Paimon: Unleashing the Potential of Real-Time Data Warehousing With these new projects, we’re seeing an interesting shift in the streaming and real-time space, and I’m here for it. I wish I personally had a use case to try these things out on a big, live system. We’re seeing more and more clever technology being developed to address new problems that arise. I wonder how the Amazon S3 Express One Zone Storage Class announcement might impact the “real-time” space. It’s all very exciting to watch. You can read more "What the heck" articles at the following links: What The Heck Is DuckDB? What the Heck Is Malloy? What the Heck is PRQL? What the Heck is GlareDB? What the Heck is SeaTunnel? What the Heck is LanceDB? What the Heck is SDF?

What the Heck Is Apache Paimon?

Introduction The year 2023 has seen significant developments in innovation, adoption, and competition. HashiCorp ignited a substantial controversy when it altered the licenses of its products to be less open-source-friendly. This quickly led to the emergence of Terraform forks, such as OpenTofu. We also observed increased competition among established players like Fivetran and dbt, often collaborating to provide solutions. This brings us to the topic of this blog post—the Rust-based alternative to dbt, known as SDF (Semantic Data Fabric). So, what exactly is SDF? SDF Overview The origins of SDF can be traced back to Meta. It is written in Rust, meaning a single compact binary with no packages to manage. Once downloaded, you're ready to get started. SDF is built on Datafusion, which is part of the Apache Arrow project. With SDF, you'll primarily be working with YAML and SQL—languages that should be familiar to any data engineer. At its core, SDF is a compiler and build system that applies static analysis to SQL code. It can then generate a robust dependency graph for a clearer view of your data assets. This feature enables easier detection of potential problems and optimization issues. One of SDF's unique features is the capacity to annotate your SQL sources with metadata. This can range from simple types and classifiers (like PII) to table visibility and privacy policies. SDF refers to these as Checks. Here are some examples of the types of Checks you can perform: Data Privacy Check: Ensures all personally identifiable information (PII) is suitably anonymized. Data Ownership Check: Confirms that every table has an owner—a requirement of GDPR. Data Quality Check: Prevents calculations that mix different currency types (for example, preventing £ + $ ) The resulting information schema extends beyond standard features. You can use SQL to explore the information schema and even write your own Checks to integrate into your workflows. Additional Features The SDF engine includes a multi-dialect SQL compiler, a static analyzer, a dependency manager, and a build cache. The following images illustrate the , , and commands. deploy describe lineage These features are available in their CLI, and a cloud version offers an interactive interface to explore the catalog and lineage. You can easily zoom in and out, click on a node, and delve deeper. Here is a zoomed-out image: As previously mentioned, the metadata and configurations for SDF are in YAML and form an SDF Workspace. SDF extends YAML's typical configuration usage by allowing you to specify data asset definitions simultaneously, referred to as definition blocks. These blocks can be used to define or enrich tables, functions, classifiers, etc. Borrowing an example from their documentation, here's an illustrative SDF YAML workspace. These classifiers can conveniently tag your columns and their descendants throughout a project. Coupled with available functions, you gain substantial control and visibility over your data models. The compilation step and helpful error messages contribute to a comprehensive environment. Summary This project's compact nature is impressive; you can install it locally and experiment with minimal effort. It proposes a different approach to dbt, which may cause resistance for some. However, uncertainty remains about how this would perform in extensive, complex environments where there's a desire to deploy thousands of modules. Nevertheless, the Checks feature could be the solution to this concern. SDF is undeniably a valuable project that can meet many use cases. If you're weary of dbt or considering something akin to dbt, then SDF should probably be on your shortlist. You can read more "What the heck" articles at the following links: What The Heck Is DuckDB? What the Heck Is Malloy? What the Heck is PRQL? What the Heck is GlareDB? What the Heck is SeaTunnel? What the Heck is LanceDB?

What the Heck Is SDF?

Introduction I started seeing early in 2023, and my first thought was that it might be an attractive fit in the ecosystem or as a general replacement for the columnar file format. I was thinking too small, though. LanceDB Apache Iceberg Parquet It is an in-process multi-model serverless vector database written in Rust that is cloud-native and open-source. It’s not to be confused with the Lance columnar format (which I was doing), which is also written in Rust and a more appropriate comparison to Parquet but is fundamental to LanceDB. It is also compatible. Apache Arrow So, what we have is a SQL-compatible vector database that supports vectors, images, text, and videos with full-text search. It is also said to be very fast, but you’ll need to do your own tests to see how it does on your own stack. Why a Vector Database? Two letters, AI. A vector database is at the core of the data repository used to train Large Language Models (LLM). LanceDB has gone the extra mile to provide a GitHub repository with a few vector recipes that you can find . here So, you should store embeddings from a machine learning model, for example, to search for images using written descriptions. The challenge here is the “ ”; you can be fast or accurate but can’t be both; you have to pick one. LanceDB first went for speed, then did a lot of tuning to improve accuracy. Curse of dimensionality This leads to “Embeddings,” which are high-dimensional floating-point vector representations of a query or the data. You can embed anything using an appropriate embedding model or function. The position of the embedding in a vector space has semantic significance depending on the type of modal and training you are using. LanceDB supports “explicit” and “implicit” data vectorization methods. At this stage, we’re getting into some deep water concerning how this all works, and it is beyond the scope of what I’m trying to convey in this blog. I’ll share an image from the LanceDB docs that illustrates how similar entries cluster within a vector system. The LanceDB ecosystem provides all the latest and most commonly used tools for this space to make it as convenient as possible to get started. You can use Python and Javascript to process your data into LanceDB, using popular Python machine learning and columnar data packages. A native Typescript SDK is available to allow for vectorless search as part of serverless functions. What isn’t listed here is the new integrations, making that LLM work even easier. LangChain That’s not all though, so to put it in a list, we also see: Duckdb LangChain JS/TS LlamaIndex Voxel51 There is a great, recent blog, “ ” by Ayush Chaurasia, that I highly recommend. He gives a quick walkthrough using Nextjs, LanceDB, and Roboflow’s CLIP inference API. If you'd like to dive a little deeper, it’s a specific deep dive with example code. Serverless Multi-Modal search application Summary Obviously, LanceDB isn’t a general-purpose database, it has a very specific use case, and from what I can tell, it’s a solid solution for that use case. It is an extremely fast vector database that can be used specifically in AI applications. I can envision some really useful scenarios for building up your own LLM around product blogs and documentation with this, to enable users to write specific questions and get more tailored responses than trying to read through tons of blogs and docs. This could be the beginning of a tide shift in how we provide information to the public. Finally, a LanceDB Cloud is coming, and at the time of this writing, in October 2023, you can sign up to be notified about it at this . I’m excited to give that a try and run some tests on ideas that have been bouncing around in my head since ChatGPT started grabbing everyone's attention. link You can read the other “What the heck” articles at these links: (I was pretty out front on this one.) What The Heck Is DuckDB? (I was out front on this one, too.) What the Heck Is Malloy? (slower, but also growing) What the Heck is PRQL? (growing quickly) What the Heck is GlareDB? (interest is hot) What the Heck is SeaTunnel?

What the Heck Is LanceDB?

I started seeing chatter about in early 2023 and was low-key keeping an eye on it. The project started in 2017 as Waterdrop and grew out of the contributions from the creator of which supports SeaTunnel as a task plugin. Apache SeaTunnel Apache Dolphin, I had some initial issues getting my head around what SeaTunnel is and why I should care about it. That means I will keep this relatively high level to at least answer those questions. With that, let’s jump in. What is SeaTunnel? They describe it as “a high-performance, distributed, massive data integration tool that provides an all-in-one solution for heterogeneous data integration and data synchronization.”  It comprises three main components: Source connectors Transform connectors Sink connectors. Many source connectors are available; as of the current version, 2.3.3, a list is available . It includes formats such as relational, , and graph, as well as distributed file systems like HDFS and object stores like S3. here NoSQL A transform connector comes into play if the schema between your source and sink differ, essentially mapping your data. The sink is the other side of the source, but now you are writing instead of reading. A complete list of sink connectors as of version 2.3.3 is available . As of this writing, it is claimed that over 100 connectors currently exist. here With these components, SeaTunnel can solve common problems found with data integration and synchronization. So, it provides high-performance data synchronization for real-time and batch data. The poorly translated claim in the docs is that it can “synchronize hundreds of billions of data per day in real-time.” I’m not sure what that claim is, but it's probably pretty fast, considering that companies like Alibaba use it. Apache SeaTunnel Features I was impressed with the connector API feature in the system. As stated earlier, over 100 pre-built connectors exist, but you can create a different one if you need to. The connectors are not tied to a specific execution engine but can use Flink, Spark, or the native SeaTunnel one. The plug-in architecture for the connectors reminds me a bit of the . Trino ecosystem Data can be synchronized in batch or real-time, providing various synchronization options. A nifty feature is how it works with JDBC, which supports multi-table or whole database synchronization. This addresses the need for CDC multi-table synchronization scenarios. The runtime process of SeaTunnel is shown in the diagram below: The SeaTunnel runtime flow breaks down as follows: Configure the job information and select the execution engine. The source connector reads the data in parallel and passes it downstream to transform, sink, or directly to the sink. Keep in mind that SeaTunnel is an EL(T) integration platform, as such, it can only do basic data transformations itself: Change the case of data in a column Change a column name Split a column into multiple columns SeaTunnel Jobs A SeaTunnel job, or config file, is described with four possible sections:  env, source, transform, and sink. The transform can be ignored if no transformation is performed. A config file can be written in or format. Borrowing from the SeaTunnel docs, here is a simple example in format: Hocon JSON hocon env {
  job.mode = "BATCH"
}

source {
  FakeSource {
    result_table_name = "fake"
    row.num = 100
    schema = {
      fields {
        name = "string"
        age = "int"
        card = "int"
      }
    }
  }
}

transform {
  Filter {
    source_table_name = "fake"
    result_table_name = "fake1"
    fields = [name, card]
  }
}

sink {
  Clickhouse {
    host = "clickhouse:8123"
    database = "default"
    table = "seatunnel_console"
    fields = ["name", "card"]
    username = "default"
    password = ""
    source_table_name = "fake1"
  }
} While the format is very easy to read and understand, I could see it getting pretty gnarly with large tables. I’ll comment here that, like many open-source projects, the docs are rather lacking, but the project seems to have a pretty active channel based on the time I’ve been in there. Slack SeaTunnel Requirements It’s a Java system, and they say that version 8 or 11 is required but should work with older systems. If you already have Java installed, then you just need to get the plugins you want from their site (or write your own) and set them up in their config file. After that, you create the config file that will manage the job as we described. It’s all pretty straightforward as long as you have the credentials to access your source and destination data repositories. The console will give feedback on what is happening. A is also available for those who want an alternative to the CLI, and that would be my personal preference for using the system, it’s much easier to get visibility, but it also has a lot more steps to install and use it. web interface Summary SeaTunnel is undoubtedly only for some; it comes into play when dealing with lots of data across various data sources and destinations, as I currently see it. I can certainly see situations where it would simplify things, so I’ll keep this project in my bag of tricks. The SeaTunnel folks have this good quick-start guide available , making it simple to give it a try yourself and see how well it can solve your problems. here You can read the other “What the heck” articles at these links: (I was pretty out front on this one.) What The Heck Is DuckDB? (I was out front on this one, too.) What the Heck Is Malloy? (slower, but also growing) What the Heck is PRQL? (growing quickly) What the Heck is GlareDB?

What the heck is Apache SeaTunnel?

Of the crucifixion of Jesus; and of his last words upon the cross.

The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . SIR FELIX MEDDLES WITH MANY MATTERS here SIR FELIX MEDDLES WITH MANY MATTERS. There is no duty more certain or fixed in the world than that which calls upon a brother to defend his sister from ill-usage; but, at the same time, in the way we live now, no duty is more difficult, and we may say generally more indistinct. The ill-usage to which men's sisters are most generally exposed is one which hardly admits of either protection or vengeance,—although the duty of protecting and avenging is felt and acknowledged. We are not allowed to fight duels, and that banging about of another man with a stick is always disagreeable and seldom successful. A John Crumb can do it, perhaps, and come out of the affair exulting; but not a Sir Felix Carbury, even if the Sir Felix of the occasion have the requisite courage. There is a feeling, too, when a girl has been jilted,—thrown over, perhaps, is the proper term,—after the gentleman has had the fun of making love to her for an entire season, and has perhaps even been allowed privileges as her promised husband, that the less said the better. The girl does not mean to break her heart for love of the false one, and become the tragic heroine of a tale for three months. It is her purpose again to —trick her beams, and with new-spangled ore Flame in the forehead of the morning sky. Though this one has been false, as were perhaps two or three before, still the road to success is open. Uno avulso non deficit alter. But if all the notoriety of cudgels and cutting whips be given to the late unfortunate affair, the difficulty of finding a substitute will be greatly increased. The brother recognises his duty, and prepares for vengeance. The injured one probably desires that she may be left to fight her own little battles alone. "Then, by heaven, he shall answer it to me," Sir Felix had said very grandly, when his sister had told him that she was engaged to a man who was, as he thought he knew, engaged also to marry another woman. Here, no doubt, was gross ill-usage, and opportunity at any rate for threats. No money was required and no immediate action,—and Sir Felix could act the fine gentleman and the dictatorial brother at very little present expense. But Hetta, who ought perhaps to have known her brother more thoroughly, was fool enough to believe him. On the day but one following, no answer had as yet come from Roger Carbury,—nor could as yet have come. But Hetta's mind was full of her trouble, and she remembered her brother's threat. Felix had forgotten that he had made a threat,—and, indeed, had thought no more of the matter since his interview with his sister. "Felix," she said, "you won't mention that to Mr. Montague!" "Mention what? Oh! about that woman, Mrs. Hurtle? Indeed I shall. A man who does that kind of thing ought to be crushed;—and, by heavens, if he does it to you, he shall be crushed." "I want to tell you, Felix. If it is so, I will see him no more." "If it is so! I tell you I know it." "Mamma has written to Roger. At least I feel sure she has." "What has she written to him for? What has Roger Carbury to do with our affairs?" "Only you said he knew! If he says so, that is, if you and he both say that he is to marry that woman,—I will not see Mr. Montague again. Pray do not go to him. If such a misfortune does come, it is better to bear it and to be silent. What good can be done?" "Leave that to me," said Sir Felix, walking out of the room with much fraternal bluster. Then he went forth, and at once had himself driven to Paul Montague's lodgings. Had Hetta not been foolish enough to remind him of his duty, he would not now have undertaken the task. He too, no doubt, remembered as he went that duels were things of the past, and that even fists and sticks are considered to be out of fashion. "Montague," he said, assuming all the dignity of demeanour that his late sorrows had left to him, "I believe I am right in saying that you are engaged to marry that American lady, Mrs. Hurtle." "Then let me tell you that you were never more wrong in your life. What business have you with Mrs. Hurtle?" "When a man proposes to my sister, I think I've a great deal of business," said Sir Felix. "Well;—yes; I admit that fully. If I answered you roughly, I beg your pardon. Now as to the facts. I am not going to marry Mrs. Hurtle. I suppose I know how you have heard her name;—but as you have heard it, I have no hesitation in telling you so much. As you know where she is to be found you can go and ask her if you please. On the other hand, it is the dearest wish of my heart to marry your sister. I trust that will be enough for you." "You were engaged to Mrs. Hurtle?" "My dear Carbury, I don't think I'm bound to tell you all the details of my past life. At any rate, I don't feel inclined to do so in answer to hostile questions. I dare say you have heard enough of Mrs. Hurtle to justify you, as your sister's brother, in asking me whether I am in any way entangled by a connection with her. I tell you that I am not. If you still doubt, I refer you to the lady herself. Beyond that, I do not think I am called on to go; and beyond that I won't go,—at any rate, at present." Sir Felix still blustered, and made what capital he could out of his position as a brother; but he took no steps towards positive revenge. "Of course, Carbury," said the other, "I wish to regard you as a brother; and if I am rough to you, it is only because you are rough to me." Sir Felix was now in that part of town which he had been accustomed to haunt,—for the first time since his misadventure,—and, plucking up his courage, resolved that he would turn into the Beargarden. He would have a glass of sherry, and face the one or two men who would as yet be there, and in this way gradually creep back to his old habits. But when he arrived there, the club was shut up. "What the deuce is Vossner about?" said he, pulling out his watch. It was nearly five o'clock. He rang the bell, and knocked at the door, feeling that this was an occasion for courage. One of the servants, in what we may call private clothes, after some delay, drew back the bolts, and told him the astounding news;—The club was shut up! "Do you mean to say I can't come in?" said Sir Felix. The man certainly did mean to tell him so, for he opened the door no more than a foot, and stood in that narrow aperture. Mr. Vossner had gone away. There had been a meeting of the Committee, and the club was shut up. Whatever further information rested in the waiter's bosom he declined to communicate to Sir Felix Carbury. "By George!" The wrong that was done him filled the young baronet's bosom with indignation. He had intended, he assured himself, to dine at his club, to spend the evening there sportively, to be pleasant among his chosen companions. And now the club was shut up, and Vossner had gone away! What business had the club to be shut up? What right had Vossner to go away? Had he not paid his subscription in advance? Throughout the world, the more wrong a man does, the more indignant is he at wrong done to him. Sir Felix almost thought that he could recover damages from the whole Committee. He went direct to Mrs. Pipkin's house. When he made that half promise of marriage in Mrs. Pipkin's hearing, he had said that he would come again on the morrow. This he had not done; but of that he thought nothing. Such breaches of faith, when committed by a young man in his position, require not even an apology. He was admitted by Ruby herself, who was of course delighted to see him. "Who do you think is in town?" she said. "John Crumb; but though he came here ever so smart, I wouldn't so much as speak to him, except to tell him to go away." Sir Felix, when he heard the name, felt an uncomfortable sensation creep over him. "I don't know I'm sure what he should come after me for, and me telling him as plain as the nose on his face that I never want to see him again." "He's not of much account," said the baronet. "He would marry me out and out immediately, if I'd have him," continued Ruby, who perhaps thought that her honest old lover should not be spoken of as being altogether of no account. "And he has everything comfortable in the way of furniture, and all that. And they do say he's ever so much money in the bank. But I detest him," said Ruby, shaking her pretty head, and inclining herself towards her aristocratic lover's shoulder. This took place in the back parlour, before Mrs. Pipkin had ascended from the kitchen prepared to disturb so much romantic bliss with wretched references to the cold outer world. "Well, now, Sir Felix," she began, "if things is square, of course you're welcome to see my niece." "And what if they're round, Mrs. Pipkin?" said the gallant, careless, sparkling Lothario. "Well, or round either, so long as they're honest." "Ruby and I are both honest;—ain't we, Ruby? I want to take her out to dinner, Mrs. Pipkin. She shall be back before late;—before ten; she shall indeed." Ruby inclined herself still more closely towards his shoulder. "Come, Ruby, get your hat and change your dress, and we'll be off. I've ever so many things to tell you." Ever so many things to tell her! They must be to fix a day for the marriage, and to let her know where they were to live, and to settle what dress she should wear,—and perhaps to give her the money to go and buy it! Ever so many things to tell her! She looked up into Mrs. Pipkin's face with imploring eyes. Surely on such an occasion as this an aunt would not expect that her niece should be a prisoner and a slave. "Have it been put in writing, Sir Felix Carbury?" demanded Mrs. Pipkin with cruel gravity. Mrs. Hurtle had given it as her decided opinion that Sir Felix would not really mean to marry Ruby Ruggles unless he showed himself willing to do so with all the formality of a written contract. "Writing be bothered," said Sir Felix. "That's all very well, Sir Felix. Writing do bother, very often. But when a gentleman has intentions, a bit of writing shows it plainer nor words. Ruby don't go no where to dine unless you puts it into writing." "Aunt Pipkin!" exclaimed the wretched Ruby. "What do you think I'm going to do with her?" asked Sir Felix. "If you want to make her your wife, put it in writing. And if it be as you don't, just say so, and walk away,—free." "I shall go," said Ruby. "I'm not going to be kept here a prisoner for any one. I can go when I please. You wait, Felix, and I'll be down in a minute." The girl, with a nimble spring, ran upstairs, and began to change her dress without giving herself a moment for thought. "She don't come back no more here, Sir Felix," said Mrs. Pipkin, in her most solemn tones. "She ain't nothing to me, no more than she was my poor dear husband's sister's child. There ain't no blood between us, and won't be no disgrace. But I'd be loth to see her on the streets." "Then why won't you let me bring her back again?" "'Cause that'd be the way to send her there. You don't mean to marry her." To this Sir Felix said nothing. "You're not thinking of that. It's just a bit of sport,—and then there she is, an old shoe to be chucked away, just a rag to be swept into the dust-bin. I've seen scores of 'em, and I'd sooner a child of mine should die in a workus', or be starved to death. But it's all nothing to the likes o' you." "I haven't done her any harm," said Sir Felix, almost frightened. "Then go away, and don't do her any. That's Mrs. Hurtle's door open. You go and speak to her. She can talk a deal better nor me." "Mrs. Hurtle hasn't been able to manage her own affairs very well." "Mrs. Hurtle's a lady, Sir Felix, and a widow, and one as has seen the world." As she spoke, Mrs. Hurtle came downstairs, and an introduction, after some rude fashion, was effected between her and Sir Felix. Mrs. Hurtle had heard often of Sir Felix Carbury, and was quite as certain as Mrs. Pipkin that he did not mean to marry Ruby Ruggles. In a few minutes Felix found himself alone with Mrs. Hurtle in her own room. He had been anxious to see the woman since he had heard of her engagement with Paul Montague, and doubly anxious since he had also heard of Paul's engagement with his sister. It was not an hour since Paul himself had referred him to her for corroboration of his own statement. "Sir Felix Carbury," she said, "I am afraid you are doing that poor girl no good, and are intending to do her none." It did occur to him very strongly that this could be no affair of Mrs. Hurtle's, and that he, as a man of position in society, was being interfered with in an unjustifiable manner. Aunt Pipkin wasn't even an aunt; but who was Mrs. Hurtle? "Would it not be better that you should leave her to become the wife of a man who is really fond of her?" He could already see something in Mrs. Hurtle's eye which prevented his at once bursting into wrath;—but who was Mrs. Hurtle, that she should interfere with him? "Upon my word, ma'am," he said, "I'm very much obliged to you, but I don't quite know to what I owe the honour of your—your—" "Interference you mean." "I didn't say so, but perhaps that's about it." "I'd interfere to save any woman that God ever made," said Mrs. Hurtle with energy. "We're all apt to wait a little too long, because we're ashamed to do any little good that chance puts in our way. You must go and leave her, Sir Felix." "I suppose she may do as she pleases about that." "Do you mean to make her your wife?" asked Mrs. Hurtle sternly. "Does Mr. Paul Montague mean to make you his wife?" rejoined Sir Felix with an impudent swagger. He had struck the blow certainly hard enough, and it had gone all the way home. She had not surmised that he would have heard aught of her own concerns. She only barely connected him with that Roger Carbury who, she knew, was Paul's great friend, and she had as yet never heard that Hetta Carbury was the girl whom Paul loved. Had Paul so talked about her that this young scamp should know all her story? She thought awhile,—she had to think for a moment,—before she could answer him. "I do not see," she said, with a faint attempt at a smile, "that there is any parallel between the two cases. I, at any rate, am old enough to take care of myself. Should he not marry me, I am as I was before. Will it be so with that poor girl if she allows herself to be taken about the town by you at night?" She had desired in what she said to protect Ruby rather than herself. What could it matter whether this young man was left in a belief that she was, or that she was not, about to be married? "If you'll answer me, I'll answer you," said Sir Felix. "Does Mr. Montague mean to make you his wife?" "It does not concern you to know," said she, flashing upon him. "The question is insolent." "It does concern me,—a great deal more than anything about Ruby can concern you. And as you won't answer me, I won't answer you." "Then, sir, that girl's fate will be upon your head." "I know all about that," said the baronet. "And the young man who has followed her up to town will probably know where to find you," added Mrs. Hurtle. To such a threat as this, no answer could be made, and Sir Felix left the room. At any rate, John Crumb was not there at present. And were there not policemen in London? And what additional harm would be done to John Crumb, or what increase of anger engendered in that true lover's breast, by one additional evening's amusement? Ruby had danced with him so often at the Music Hall that John Crumb could hardly be made more bellicose by the fact of her dining with him on this evening. When he descended, he found Ruby in the hall, all arrayed. "You don't come in here again to-night," said Mrs. Pipkin, thumping the little table which stood in the passage, "if you goes out of that there door with that there young man." "Then I shall," said Ruby linking herself on to her lover's arm. "Baggage! Slut!" said Mrs. Pipkin; "after all I've done for you, just as one as though you were my own flesh and blood." "I've worked for it, I suppose;—haven't I?" rejoined Ruby. "You send for your things to-morrow, for you don't come in here no more. You ain't nothing to me no more nor no other girl. But I'd 've saved you, if you'd but a' let me. As for you,"—and she looked at Sir Felix,—"only because I've lodgings to let, and because of the lady upstairs, I'd shake you that well, you'd never come here no more after poor girls." I do not think that she need have feared any remonstrance from Mrs. Hurtle, even had she put her threat into execution. Sir Felix, thinking that he had had enough of Mrs. Pipkin and her lodger, left the house with Ruby on his arm. For the moment, Ruby had been triumphant, and was happy. She did not stop to consider whether her aunt would or would not open her door when she should return tired, and perhaps repentant. She was on her lover's arm, in her best clothes, and going to have a dinner given to her. And her lover had told her that he had ever so many things,—ever so many things to say to her! But she would ask no impertinent questions in the first hour of her bliss. It was so pleasant to walk with him up to Pentonville;—so joyous to turn into a gay enclosure, half public-house and half tea-garden; so pleasant to hear him order the good things, which in his company would be so nice! Who cannot understand that even an urban Rosherville must be an Elysium to those who have lately been eating their meals in all the gloom of a small London underground kitchen? There we will leave Ruby in her bliss. At about nine that evening John Crumb called at Mrs. Pipkin's, and was told that Ruby had gone out with Sir Felix Carbury. He hit his leg a blow with his fist, and glared out of his eyes. "He'll have it hot some day," said John Crumb. He was allowed to remain waiting for Ruby till midnight, and then, with a sorrowful heart, he took his departure. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Anthony Trollope (2004). The Way We Live Now. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/5231/pg5231-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

SIR FELIX MEDDLES WITH MANY MATTERS

It was not long after the breaking out of the Greek Revolution

Is there such a feeling as love at first sight?

Mathilda by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . CHAPTER IV here CHAPTER IV Among our most assiduous visitors was a young man of rank, well informed, and agreable in his person. After we had spent a few weeks in London his attentions towards me became marked and his visits more frequent. I was too much taken up by my own occupations and feelings to attend much to this, and then indeed I hardly noticed more than the bare surface of events as they passed around me; but I now remember that my father was restless and uneasy whenever this person visited us, and when we talked together watched us with the greatest apparent anxiety although he himself maintained a profound silence. At length these obnoxious visits suddenly ceased altogether, but from that moment I must date the change of my father: a change that to remember makes me shudder and then filled me with the deepest grief. There were no degrees which could break my fall from happiness to misery; it was as the stroke of lightning—sudden and entire. Alas! I now met frowns where before I had been welcomed only with smiles: he, my beloved father, shunned me, and either treated me with harshness or a more heart-breaking coldness. We took no more sweet counsel together; and when I tried to win him again to me, his anger, and the terrible emotions that he exhibited drove me to silence and tears. And this was sudden. The day before we had passed alone together in the country; I remember we had talked of future travels that we should undertake together—. There was an eager delight in our tones and gestures that could only spring from deep & mutual love joined to the most unrestrained confidence; and now the next day, the next hour, I saw his brows contracted, his eyes fixed in sullen fierceness on the ground, and his voice so gentle and so dear made me shiver when he addressed me. Often, when my wandering fancy brought by its various images now consolation and now aggravation of grief to my heart, I have compared myself to Proserpine who was gaily and heedlessly gathering flowers on the sweet plain of Enna, when the King of Hell snatched her away to the abodes of death and misery. Alas! I who so lately knew of nought but the joy of life; who had slept only to dream sweet dreams and awoke to incomparable happiness, I now passed my days and nights in tears. I who sought and had found joy in the love-breathing countenance of my father now when I dared fix on him a supplicating look it was ever answered by an angry frown. I dared not speak to him; and when sometimes I had worked up courage to meet him and to ask an explanation one glance at his face where a chaos of mighty passion seemed for ever struggling made me tremble and shrink to silence. I was dashed down from heaven to earth as a silly sparrow when pounced on by a hawk; my eyes swam and my head was bewildered by the sudden apparition of grief. Day after day passed marked only by my complaints and my tears; often I lifted my soul in vain prayer for a softer descent from joy to woe, or if that were denied me that I might be allowed to die, and fade for ever under the cruel blast that swept over me, ——— for what should I do here,Like a decaying flower, still witheringUnder his bitter words, whose kindly heatShould give my poor heart life? Sometimes I said to myself, this is an enchantment, and I must strive against it. My father is blinded by some malignant vision which I must remove. And then, like David, I would try music to win the evil spirit from him; and once while singing I lifted my eyes towards him and saw his fixed on me and filled with tears; all his muscles seemed relaxed to softness. I sprung towards him with a cry of joy and would have thrown myself into his arms, but he pushed me roughly from him and left me. And even from this slight incident he contracted fresh gloom and an additional severity of manner. There are many incidents that I might relate which shewed the diseased yet incomprehensible state of his mind; but I will mention one that occurred while we were in company with several other persons. On this occasion I chanced to say that I thought Myrrha the best of Alfieri’s tragedies; as I said this I chanced to cast my eyes on my father and met his: for the first time the expression of those beloved eyes displeased me, and I saw with affright that his whole frame shook with some concealed emotion that in spite of his efforts half conquered him: as this tempest faded from his soul he became melancholy and silent. Every day some new scene occured and displayed in him a mind working as it were with an unknown horror that now he could master but which at times threatened to overturn his reason, and to throw the bright seat of his intelligence into a perpetual chaos. I will not dwell longer than I need on these disastrous circumstances. I might waste days in describing how anxiously I watched every change of fleeting circumstance that promised better days, and with what despair I found that each effort of mine aggravated his seeming madness. To tell all my grief I might as well attempt to count the tears that have fallen from these eyes, or every sign that has torn my heart. I will be brief for there is in all this a horror that will not bear many words, and I sink almost a second time to death while I recall these sad scenes to my memory. Oh, my beloved father! Indeed you made me miserable beyond all words, but how truly did I even then forgive you, and how entirely did you possess my whole heart while I endeavoured, as a rainbow gleams upon a cataract, to soften thy tremendous sorrows. Thus did this change come about. I seem perhaps to have dashed too suddenly into the description, but thus suddenly did it happen. In one sentence I have passed from the idea of unspeakable happiness to that of unspeakable grief but they were thus closely linked together. We had remained five months in London three of joy and two of sorrow. My father and I were now seldom alone or if we were he generally kept silence with his eyes fixed on the ground—the dark full orbs in which before I delighted to read all sweet and gentle feeling shadowed from my sight by their lids and the long lashes that fringed them. When we were in company he affected gaiety but I wept to hear his hollow laugh—begun by an empty smile and often ending in a bitter sneer such as never before this fatal period had wrinkled his lips. When others were there he often spoke to me and his eyes perpetually followed my slightest motion. His accents whenever he addressed me were cold and constrained although his voice would tremble when he perceived that my full heart choked the answer to words proffered with a mien yet new to me. But days of peaceful melancholy were of rare occurence: they were often broken in upon by gusts of passion that drove me as a weak boat on a stormy sea to seek a cove for shelter; but the winds blew from my native harbour and I was cast far, far out untill shattered I perished when the tempest had passed and the sea was apparently calm. I do not know that I can describe his emotions: sometimes he only betrayed them by a word or gesture, and then retired to his chamber and I crept as near it as I dared and listened with fear to every sound, yet still more dreading a sudden silence—dreading I knew not what, but ever full of fear. It was after one tremendous day when his eyes had glared on me like lightning—and his voice sharp and broken seemed unable to express the extent of his emotion that in the evening when I was alone he joined me with a calm countenance, and not noticing my tears which I quickly dried when he approached, told me that in three days that he intended to remove with me to his estate in Yorkshire, and bidding me prepare left me hastily as if afraid of being questioned. sic This determination on his part indeed surprised me. This estate was that which he had inhabited in childhood and near which my mother resided while a girl; this was the scene of their youthful loves and where they had lived after their marriage; in happier days my father had often told me that however he might appear weaned from his widow sorrow, and free from bitter recollections elsewhere, yet he would never dare visit the spot where he had enjoyed her society or trust himself to see the rooms that so many years ago they had inhabited together; her favourite walks and the gardens the flowers of which she had delighted to cultivate. And now while he suffered intense misery he determined to plunge into still more intense, and strove for greater emotion than that which already tore him. I was perplexed, and most anxious to know what this portended; ah, what could it portend but ruin! I saw little of my father during this interval, but he appeared calmer although not less unhappy than before. On the morning of the third day he informed me that he had determined to go to Yorkshire first alone, and that I should follow him in a fortnight unless I heard any thing from him in the mean time that should contradict this command. He departed the same day, and four days afterwards I received a letter from his steward telling me in his name to join him with as little delay as possible. After travelling day and night I arrived with an anxious, yet a hoping heart, for why should he send for me if it were only to avoid me and to treat me with the apparent aversion that he had in London. I met him at the distance of thirty miles from our mansion. His demeanour was sad; for a moment he appeared glad to see me and then he checked himself as if unwilling to betray his feelings. He was silent during our ride, yet his manner was kinder than before and I thought I beheld a softness in his eyes that gave me hope. When we arrived, after a little rest, he led me over the house and pointed out to me the rooms which my mother had inhabited. Although more than sixteen years had passed since her death nothing had been changed; her work box, her writing desk were still there and in her room a book lay open on the table as she had left it. My father pointed out these circumstances with a serious and unaltered mien, only now and then fixing his deep and liquid eyes upon me; there was something strange and awful in his look that overcame me, and in spite of myself I wept, nor did he attempt to console me, but I saw his lips quiver and the muscles of his countenance seemed convulsed. We walked together in the gardens and in the evening when I would have retired he asked me to stay and read to him; and first said, “When I was last here your mother read Dante to me; you shall go on where she left off.” And then in a moment he said, “No, that must not be; you must not read Dante. Do you choose a book.” I took up Spencer and read the descent of Sir Guyon to the halls of Avarice; while he listened his eyes fixed on me in sad profound silence. I heard the next morning from the steward that upon his arrival he had been in a most terrible state of mind: he had passed the first night in the garden lying on the damp grass; he did not sleep but groaned perpetually. “Alas!” said the old man, who gave me this account with tears in his eyes, “it wrings my heart to see my lord in this state: when I heard that he was coming down here with you, my young lady, I thought we should have the happy days over again that we enjoyed during the short life of my lady your mother—But that would be too much happiness for us poor creatures born to tears—and that was why she was taken from us so soon; she was too beautiful and good for us. It was a happy day as we all thought it when my lord married her: I knew her when she was a child and many a good turn has she done for me in my old lady’s time—You are like her although there is more of my lord in you—But has he been thus ever since his return? All my joy turned to sorrow when I first beheld him with that melancholy countenance enter these doors as it were the day after my lady’s funeral—He seemed to recover himself a little after he had bidden me write to you—but still it is a woful thing to see him so unhappy.” These were the feelings of an old, faithful servant: what must be those of an affectionate daughter. Alas! Even then my heart was almost broken. We spent two months together in this house. My father spent the greater part of his time with me; he accompanied me in my walks, listened to my music, and leant over me as I read or painted. When he conversed with me his manner was cold and constrained; his eyes only seemed to speak, and as he turned their black, full lustre towards me they expressed a living sadness. There was somthing in those dark deep orbs so liquid, and intense that even in happiness I could never meet their full gaze that mine did not overflow. Yet it was with sweet tears; now there was a depth of affliction in their gentle appeal that rent my heart with sympathy; they seemed to desire peace for me; for himself a heart patient to suffer; a craving for sympathy, yet a perpetual self denial. It was only when he was absent from me that his passion subdued him,—that he clinched his hands—knit his brows—and with haggard looks called for death to his despair, raving wildly, untill exhausted he sank down nor was revived untill I joined him. While we were in London there was a harshness and sulleness in his sorrow which had now entirely disappeared. There I shrunk and fled from him, now I only wished to be with him that I might soothe him to peace. When he was silent I tried to divert him, and when sometimes I stole to him during the energy of his passion I wept but did not desire to leave him. Yet he suffered fearful agony; during the day he was more calm, but at night when I could not be with him he seemed to give the reins to his grief: he often passed his nights either on the floor in my mother’s room, or in the garden; and when in the morning he saw me view with poignant grief his exhausted frame, and his person languid almost to death with watching he wept; but during all this time he spoke no word by which I might guess the cause of his unhappiness. If I ventured to enquire he would either leave me or press his finger on his lips, and with a deprecating look that I could not resist, turn away. If I wept he would gaze on me in silence but he was no longer harsh and although he repulsed every caress yet it was with gentleness. He seemed to cherish a mild grief and softer emotions although sad as a relief from despair—He contrived in many ways to nurse his melancholy as an antidote to wilder passion. He perpetually frequented the walks that had been favourites with him when he and my mother wandered together talking of love and happiness; he collected every relick that remained of her and always sat opposite her picture which hung in the room fixing on it a look of sad despair—and all this was done in a mystic and awful silence. If his passion subdued him he locked himself in his room; and at night when he wandered restlessly about the house, it was when every other creature slept. It may easily be imagined that I wearied myself with conjecture to guess the cause of his sorrow. The solution that seemed to me the most probable was that during his residence in London he had fallen in love with some unworthy person, and that his passion mastered him although he would not gratify it: he loved me too well to sacrifise me to this inclination, and that he had now visited this house that by reviving the memory of my mother whom he so passionately adored he might weaken the present impression. This was possible; but it was a mere conjecture unfounded on any fact. Could there be guilt in it? He was too upright and noble to aught that his conscience would not approve; I did not yet know of the crime there may be in involuntary feeling and therefore ascribed his tumultuous starts and gloomy looks wholly to the struggles of his mind and not any as they were partly due to the worst fiend of all—Remorse. do But still do I flatter myself that this would have passed away. His paroxisms of passion were terrific but his soul bore him through them triumphant, though almost destroyed by victory; but the day would finally have been won had not I, foolish and presumtuous wretch! hurried him on untill there was no recall, no hope. My rashness gave the victory in this dreadful fight to the enemy who triumphed over him as he lay fallen and vanquished. I! I alone was the cause of his defeat and justly did I pay the fearful penalty. I said to myself, let him receive sympathy and these struggles will cease. Let him confide his misery to another heart and half the weight of it will be lightened. I will win him to me; he shall not deny his grief to me and when I know his secret then will I pour a balm into his soul and again I shall enjoy the ravishing delight of beholding his smile, and of again seeing his eyes beam if not with pleasure at least with gentle love and thankfulness. This will I do, I said. Half I accomplished; I gained his secret and we were both lost for ever. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (2005). Mathilda. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/15238/pg15238-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

Among our most assiduous visitors was a young man of rank

THE EVIL EYE

Little Brother by Cory Doctorow, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter 21 here Chapter 21 This chapter is dedicated to Pages Books in Toronto, Canada. Long a fixture on the bleedingly trendy Queen Street West strip, Pages is located over the road from CityTV and just a few doors down from the old Bakka store where I worked. We at Bakka loved having Pages down the street from us: what we were to science fiction, they were to everything else: hand-picked material representing the stuff you'd never find elsewhere, the stuff you didn't know you were looking for until you saw it there. Pages also has one of the best news-stands I've ever seen, row on row of incredible magazines and zines from all over the world. Pages Books: 256 Queen St W, Toronto, ON M5V 1Z8 Canada +1 416 598 1447 They left me and Barbara alone in the room then, and I used the working shower head to rinse off -- I was suddenly embarrassed to be covered in piss and barf. When I finished, Barbara was in tears. "Your parents --" she began. I felt like I might throw up again. God, my poor folks. What they must have gone through. "Are they here?" "No," she said. "It's complicated," she said. "What?" "You're still under arrest, Marcus. Everyone here is. They can't just sweep in and throw open the doors. Everyone here is going to have to be processed through the criminal justice system. It could take, well, it could take months." "I'm going to have to stay here for months?" She grabbed my hands. "No, I think we're going to be able to get you arraigned and released on bail pretty fast. But pretty fast is a relative term. I wouldn't expect anything to happen today. And it's not going to be like those people had it. It will be humane. There will be real food. No interrogations. Visits from your family. "Just because the DHS is out, it doesn't mean that you get to just walk out of here. What's happened here is that we're getting rid of the bizarro-world version of the justice system they'd instituted and replacing it with the old system. The system with judges, open trials and lawyers. "So we can try to get you transferred to a juvie facility on the mainland, but Marcus, those places can be really rough. Really, really rough. This might be the best place for you until we get you bailed out." Bailed out. Of course. I was a criminal -- I hadn't been charged yet, but there were bound to be plenty of charges they could think of. It was practically illegal just to think impure thoughts about the government. She gave my hands another squeeze. "It sucks, but this is how it has to be. The point is, it's over. The Governor has thrown the DHS out of the State, dismantled every checkpoint. The Attorney General has issued warrants for any law-enforcement officers involved in 'stress interrogations' and secret imprisonments. They'll go to jail, Marcus, and it's because of what you did." I was numb. I heard the words, but they hardly made sense. Somehow, it was over, but it wasn't over. "Look," she said. "We probably have an hour or two before this all settles down, before they come back and put you away again. What do you want to do? Walk on the beach? Get a meal? These people had an incredible staff room -- we raided it on the way in. Gourmet all the way." At last a question I could answer. "I want to find Ange. I want to find Darryl." # I tried to use a computer I found to look up their cell-numbers, but it wanted a password, so we were reduced to walking the corridors, calling out their names. Behind the cell-doors, prisoners screamed back at us, or cried, or begged us to let them go. They didn't understand what had just happened, couldn't see their former guards being herded onto the docks in plastic handcuffs, taken away by California state SWAT teams. "Ange!" I called over the din, "Ange Carvelli! Darryl Glover! It's Marcus!" We'd walked the whole length of the cell-block and they hadn't answered. I felt like crying. They'd been shipped overseas -- they were in Syria or worse. I'd never see them again. I sat down and leaned against the corridor wall and put my face in my hands. I saw Severe Haircut Woman's face, saw her smirk as she asked me for my login. She had done this. She would go to jail for it, but that wasn't enough. I thought that when I saw her again, I might kill her. She deserved it. "Come on," Barbara said, "Come on, Marcus. Don't give up. There's more around here, come on." She was right. All the doors we'd passed in the cellblock were old, rusting things that dated back to when the base was first built. But at the very end of the corridor, sagging open, was a new high-security door as thick as a dictionary. We pulled it open and ventured into the dark corridor within. There were four more cell-doors here, doors without bar codes. Each had a small electronic keypad mounted on it. "Darryl?" I said. "Ange?" "Marcus?" It was Ange, calling out from behind the furthest door. Ange, my Ange, my angel. "Ange!" I cried. "It's me, it's me!" "Oh God, Marcus," she choked out, and then it was all sobs. I pounded on the other doors. "Darryl! Darryl, are you here?" "I'm here." The voice was very small, and very hoarse. "I'm here. I'm very, very sorry. Please. I'm very sorry." He sounded... broken. Shattered. "It's me, D," I said, leaning on his door. "It's Marcus. It's over -- they arrested the guards. They kicked the Department of Homeland Security out. We're getting trials, open trials. And we get to testify against them." "I'm sorry," he said. "Please, I'm so sorry." The California patrolmen came to the door then. They still had their camera rolling. "Ms Stratford?" one said. He had his faceplate up and he looked like any other cop, not like my savior. Like someone come to lock me up. "Captain Sanchez," she said. "We've located two of the prisoners of interest here. I'd like to see them released and inspect them for myself." "Ma'am, we don't have access codes for those doors yet," he said. She held up her hand. "That wasn't the arrangement. I was to have complete access to this facility. That came direct from the Governor, sir. We aren't budging until you open these cells." Her face was perfectly smooth, without a single hint of give or flex. She meant it. The Captain looked like he needed sleep. He grimaced. "I'll see what I can do," he said. # They did manage to open the cells, finally, about half an hour later. It took three tries, but they eventually got the right codes entered, matching them to the arphids on the ID badges they'd taken off the guards they'd arrested. They got into Ange's cell first. She was dressed in a hospital gown, open at the back, and her cell was even more bare than mine had been -- just padding all over, no sink or bed, no light. She emerged blinking into the corridor and the police camera was on her, its bright lights in her face. Barbara stepped protectively between us and it. Ange stepped tentatively out of her cell, shuffling a little. There was something wrong with her eyes, with her face. She was crying, but that wasn't it. "They drugged me," she said. "When I wouldn't stop screaming for a lawyer." That's when I hugged her. She sagged against me, but she squeezed back, too. She smelled stale and sweaty, and I smelled no better. I never wanted to let go. That's when they opened Darryl's cell. He had shredded his paper hospital gown. He was curled up, naked, in the back of the cell, shielding himself from the camera and our stares. I ran to him. "D," I whispered in his ear. "D, it's me. It's Marcus. It's over. The guards have been arrested. We're going to get bail, we're going home." He trembled and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and turned his face away. They took me away then, a cop in body-armor and Barbara, took me back to my cell and locked the door, and that's where I spent the night. # I don't remember much about the trip to the courthouse. They had me chained to five other prisoners, all of whom had been in for a lot longer than me. One only spoke Arabic -- he was an old man, and he trembled. The others were all young. I was the only white one. Once we had been gathered on the deck of the ferry, I saw that nearly everyone on Treasure Island had been one shade of brown or another. I had only been inside for one night, but it was too long. There was a light drizzle coming down, normally the sort of thing that would make me hunch my shoulders and look down, but today I joined everyone else in craning my head back at the infinite gray sky, reveling in the stinging wet as we raced across the bay to the ferry-docks. They took us away in buses. The shackles made climbing into the buses awkward, and it took a long time for everyone to load. No one cared. When we weren't struggling to solve the geometry problem of six people, one chain, narrow bus-aisle, we were just looking around at the city around us, up the hill at the buildings. All I could think of was finding Darryl and Ange, but neither were in evidence. It was a big crowd and we weren't allowed to move freely through it. The state troopers who handled us were gentle enough, but they were still big, armored and armed. I kept thinking I saw Darryl in the crowd, but it was always someone else with that same beaten, hunched look that he'd had in his cell. He wasn't the only broken one. At the courthouse, they marched us into interview rooms in our shackle group. An ACLU lawyer took our information and asked us a few questions -- when she got to me, she smiled and greeted me by name -- and then led us into the courtroom before the judge. He wore an actual robe, and seemed to be in a good mood. The deal seemed to be that anyone who had a family member to post bail could go free, and everyone else got sent to prison. The ACLU lawyer did a lot of talking to the judge, asking for a few more hours while the prisoners' families were rounded up and brought to the court-house. The judge was pretty good about it, but when I realized that some of these people had been locked up since the bridge blew, taken for dead by their families, without trial, subjected to interrogation, isolation, torture -- I wanted to just break the chains myself and set everyone free. When I was brought before the judge, he looked down at me and took off his glasses. He looked tired. The ACLU lawyer looked tired. The bailiffs looked tired. Behind me, I could hear a sudden buzz of conversation as my name was called by the bailiff. The judge rapped his gavel once, without looking away from me. He scrubbed at his eyes. "Mr Yallow," he said, "the prosecution has identified you as a flight risk. I think they have a point. You certainly have more, shall we say, history, than the other people here. I am tempted to hold you over for trial, no matter how much bail your parents are prepared to post." My lawyer started to say something, but the judge silenced her with a look. He scrubbed at his eyes. "Do you have anything to say?" "I had the chance to run," I said. "Last week. Someone offered to take me away, get me out of town, help me build a new identity. Instead I stole her phone, escaped from our truck, and ran away. I turned over her phone -- which had evidence about my friend, Darryl Glover, on it -- to a journalist and hid out here, in town." "You stole a phone?" "I decided that I couldn't run. That I had to face justice -- that my freedom wasn't worth anything if I was a wanted man, or if the city was still under the DHS. If my friends were still locked up. That freedom for me wasn't as important as a free country." "But you did steal a phone." I nodded. "I did. I plan on giving it back, if I ever find the young woman in question." "Well, thank you for that speech, Mr Yallow. You are a very well spoken young man." He glared at the prosecutor. "Some would say a very brave man, too. There was a certain video on the news this morning. It suggested that you had some legitimate reason to evade the authorities. In light of that, and of your little speech here, I will grant bail, but I will also ask the prosecutor to add a charge of Misdemeanor Petty Theft to the count, as regards the matter of the phone. For this, I expect another $50,000 in bail." He banged his gavel again, and my lawyer gave my hand a squeeze. He looked down at me again and re-seated his glasses. He had dandruff, there on the shoulders of his robe. A little more rained down as his glasses touched his wiry, curly hair. "You can go now, young man. Stay out of trouble." # I turned to go and someone tackled me. It was Dad. He literally lifted me off my feet, hugging me so hard my ribs creaked. He hugged me the way I remembered him hugging me when I was a little boy, when he'd spin me around and around in hilarious, vomitous games of airplane that ended with him tossing me in the air and catching me and squeezing me like that, so hard it almost hurt. A set of softer hands pried me gently out of his arms. Mom. She held me at arm's length for a moment, searching my face for something, not saying anything, tears streaming down her face. She smiled and it turned into a sob and then she was holding me too, and Dad's arm encircled us both. When they let go, I managed to finally say something. "Darryl?" "His father met me somewhere else. He's in the hospital." "When can I see him?" "It's our next stop," Dad said. He was grim. "He doesn't --" He stopped. "They say he'll be OK," he said. His voice was choked. "How about Ange?" "Her mother took her home. She wanted to wait here for you, but..." I understood. I felt full of understanding now, for how all the families of all the people who'd been locked away must feel. The courtroom was full of tears and hugs, and even the bailiffs couldn't stop it. "Let's go see Darryl," I said. "And let me borrow your phone?" I called Ange on the way to the hospital where they were keeping Darryl -- San Francisco General, just down the street from us -- and arranged to see her after dinner. She talked in a hurried whisper. Her mom wasn't sure whether to punish her or not, but Ange didn't want to tempt fate. There were two state troopers in the corridor where Darryl was being held. They were holding off a legion of reporters who stood on tiptoe to see around them and get pictures. The flashes popped in our eyes like strobes, and I shook my head to clear it. My parents had brought me clean clothes and I'd changed in the back seat, but I still felt gross, even after scrubbing myself in the court-house bathrooms. Some of the reporters called my name. Oh yeah, that's right, I was famous now. The state troopers gave me a look, too -- either they'd recognized my face or my name when the reporters called it out. Darryl's father met us at the door of his hospital room, speaking in a whisper too low for the reporters to hear. He was in civvies, the jeans and sweater I normally thought of him wearing, but he had his service ribbons pinned to his breast. "He's sleeping," he said. "He woke up a little while ago and he started crying. He couldn't stop. They gave him something to help him sleep." He led us in, and there was Darryl, his hair clean and combed, sleeping with his mouth open. There was white stuff at the corners of his mouth. He had a semi-private room, and in the other bed there was an older Arab-looking guy, in his 40s. I realized it was the guy I'd been chained to on the way off of Treasure Island. We exchanged embarrassed waves. Then I turned back to Darryl. I took his hand. His nails had been chewed to the quick. He'd been a nail-biter when he was a kid, but he'd kicked the habit when we got to high school. I think Van talked him out of it, telling him how gross it was for him to have his fingers in his mouth all the time. I heard my parents and Darryl's dad take a step away, drawing the curtains around us. I put my face down next to his on the pillow. He had a straggly, patchy beard that reminded me of Zeb. "Hey, D," I said. "You made it. You're going to be OK." He snored a little. I almost said, "I love you," a phrase I'd only said to one non-family-member ever, a phrase that was weird to say to another guy. In the end, I just gave his hand another squeeze. Poor Darryl. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Cory Doctorow (2009). Little Brother. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/30142/pg30142-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

Dedicated to Pages Books in Toronto, Canada

The Lost Manuscript of Sherlock Holmes In an astonishing discovery that has sent ripples through the literary world, a previously unknown manuscript of a Sherlock Holmes story has been unearthed. Tucked away in a dusty attic of a Victorian-era home in London’s historic Bloomsbury district, the manuscript offers not just an untold tale of the world’s most famous detective but also reveals a methodological tool used in solving the case—a structured approach that Dr. John Watson refers to as the “Inquiry Index.” The Discovery The manuscript came to light during a routine estate sale. The last living relative of the home’s original owners, a distant cousin of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, had no inkling of the treasure that lay hidden in a century-old steamer trunk. It was only when an appraiser, specialized in antique books, happened upon the stack of yellowed papers tied neatly with a twine that the monumental significance of the find was understood. The Inquiry Index What sets this manuscript apart from other Holmes stories is Dr. Watson’s meticulous documentation of their investigative process using a method he dubs the “Inquiry Index.” It appears as though Watson employed this structured form of journaling to catalog observations, questions, and deductions in an organized manner. The index is not just a storytelling device but an integral part of the narrative, guiding Holmes and Watson through a maze of complex clues and red herrings. The “Inquiry Index” is laid out with great attention to detail, employing specific verbs to initiate each entry, serving as both action points and reflections. Watson’s notes within the manuscript suggest that he viewed the “Inquiry Index” as a universal tool, adaptable to various forms of inquiry, not merely confined to detective work. The Implications Scholars and fans alike are intrigued by this new facet of the Holmesian canon. Dr. Eleanor Hughes, a prominent Victorian literature expert, remarked, “The Inquiry Index adds a whole new layer to the Holmes-Watson dynamic. It’s not just a method for solving cases; it’s a window into the disciplined minds that made them the ultimate detective duo.” In addition to sparking renewed academic interest, the “Inquiry Index” has caught the attention of professionals in diverse fields, ranging from investigative journalism to software development, as a timeless method for structured problem-solving. What’s Next? As efforts are underway to authenticate the manuscript and, if confirmed genuine, to publish it for the world to see, one thing is certain: the “Inquiry Index” promises to be a subject of discussion and adaptation for years to come. What was once a Victorian-era tool for solving London’s most perplexing mysteries may soon find itself at the center of 21st-century dialogues on analytical thinking and methodological rigor. Indeed, the discovery of this lost Sherlock Holmes manuscript and its “Inquiry Index” not only enriches our understanding of literary history but also offers a timeless tool for inquiry, proving once again that some methods, like legendary detectives, are immortal. As scholars and literary enthusiasts eagerly await the publication of the newly discovered Sherlock Holmes manuscript, we are granted an exclusive sneak peek into the narrative. A tale rich in suspense and cerebral challenge, it highlights a structured method of investigation referred to as the “Inquiry Index” by Dr. John Watson. This innovative approach to unraveling mysteries offers a fascinating glimpse into the disciplined minds behind London’s most celebrated detective duo. Without further ado, we present to you an excerpt from this riveting lost tale of Sherlock Holmes and the role of the “Inquiry Index” in solving one of Victorian London’s most perplexing cases. The Case of the Inquiry Index London’s smoggy streets were abuzz with horse carriages and pedestrians, each going about their day, each with a story to tell. For Dr. John Watson, however, the day began with a peculiar introduction to something called “Inquiry Index” by an old friend from the war. “It’s a way to manage the chaos, John,” his friend had said, handing him a journal. Watson, always eager to find better ways to chronicle his adventures with the enigmatic Sherlock Holmes, thought it might be an interesting experiment. The familiar chime of the Baker Street apartment rang through the room, signaling the arrival of a new client and, inevitably, a new case. A distraught lady recounted a series of thefts across London – thefts that were seemingly unrelated but eerily meticulous. As Holmes paced the room, drawing on his pipe, eyes distant in thought, Watson took the opportunity to begin his Inquiry Index journey. “The Meticulous Thefts of London.” Start: Watson penned down the initial details, the date, the client’s name, and her story. Holmes, with his usual flair, began making rapid observations, deducing facts about the client, her situation, and the nature of the thefts. “All thefts occurred at dusk. No signs of forced entry. Each stolen item had a history, a story.” Note: Holmes outlined a plan to visit the sites of the thefts. “Visit Lord Harrington’s mansion, the first site of theft.” Do: As they traversed the lavish halls of Lord Harrington’s mansion and later, the dimly lit alleys of East London, Watson meticulously recorded their findings. Every peculiar footprint, every whispered rumor from the streets, found its way into Watson’s Inquiry Index. The duo concluded their visits, having gathered a wealth of information, but the puzzle pieces didn’t quite fit. Done: Holmes, in a rare moment, seemed flustered. The threads of the case dangled just out of reach of his brilliant mind. Watson, journal in hand, suggested, “Perhaps we should review our findings?” They sat by the fireplace, the journal spread open. “Why only items with a history? What’s the connection?” Question: Holmes’ fingers drummed the armrest as Watson pondered aloud. “Could the thief be trying to rewrite history? Or perhaps reclaim it?” Maybe: The night wore on, and the warm glow of the fireplace cast dancing shadows on the walls. The “Maybe” hypothesis led them down a trail of old family feuds, lost inheritances, and London’s hidden history. The breakthrough came at dawn. A connection, previously overlooked, now glared at them from the pages of the Inquiry Index. The stolen items all traced back to a single event in London’s past: The Great Fire. With renewed vigor, Holmes and Watson pursued the lead, which culminated in a thrilling chase across London’s rooftops and narrow alleys. The thief, as it turned out, was a descendant of a family that had lost everything in the fire and was trying to reclaim lost artifacts to restore his family’s honor. Watson, reflecting on their adventure, marked the realization of the connection to The Great Fire as the turning point in their case. Highlight: Back in the cozy confines of Baker Street, a sense of accomplishment filled the air. Holmes, pouring over the Inquiry Index, remarked, “This method of yours, Watson, has its merits.” Watson smiled, penning down the last entry for the night. The Inquiry Index, initially an experiment, had now become an indispensable part of their adventures. As London slept, the tales of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, structured and reflective, awaited their next chapter. Sherlock Holmes meets Proglogging For Marco, a software developer based in San Francisco, the mornings typically began with a steaming cup of coffee and a scroll through the latest tech and literary news. An ardent fan of Sherlock Holmes, his eyes widened when he saw the headline about the newly discovered manuscript featuring a unique method called the “Inquiry Index.” As he delved into the excerpt, he found himself intrigued not just by the unraveling mystery but by Dr. John Watson’s systematic approach to solving it. The “Inquiry Index,” with its verb-led entries and structured reflection, immediately struck a chord with Marco. In his world of endless code, debugging sessions, and tight deadlines, the chaos often felt overwhelming. Could a Victorian-era method offer a solution to 21st-century software development challenges? Determined to find out, Marco decided to adapt the “Inquiry Index” into his daily workflow. As he pondered a more modern name that would resonate with today’s tech-savvy professionals, the term “Proglogging” came to mind—a portmanteau of ‘programming’ and ‘logging.’ Armed with this new tool, Marco embarked on his next project: implementing a dark mode feature for a mobile application. He began by laying out his Proglogging entries. The Dark Mode 4 hours to implement dark mode toggle. Estimate: Dark Mode Feature. Start: Best practices suggest using CSS variables and a JavaScript toggle for implementing dark mode. Note: Define CSS root variables for light theme. Do: Done. Create corresponding dark mode CSS variables. Do: Done. Implement JS toggle function with for theme preference. Do: localStorage Done. How to smoothly transition between modes? Question: Use CSS transitions on color properties. Note: Implement smooth transition between light and dark mode. Do: Done. Test feature on various browsers for compatibility. Add: Position and style the dark mode toggle button in the top-right corner. Do: Done. 10-minute stretch break. Break: Test the toggle in the local environment. Do: Toggle works, but there’s a slight delay in icon change. Note: Optimize icon loading or use SVG. Maybe: Replace icons with SVG to resolve the delay. Do: Done. Push changes to staging for team review. Do: Done. Replacing the icons with SVG to resolve the delay was a pivotal move. This change ensured a smooth user experience and highlighted the importance of performance optimization. Highlight: Adjusted from 4 hours to 3 hours. Feature implementation was smoother than anticipated. Estimate: Spreading the word As he progressed, Marco found that Proglogging offered not just a structured to-do list but a nuanced record of his thought process, challenges, and achievements. The “Do” and “Done” entries provided a clear framework for action, while “Note” and “Question” allowed for reflections and queries that might otherwise be lost in the fast-paced development cycle. Impressed by how Proglogging enhanced his focus and productivity, Marco couldn’t keep it to himself. During a team meeting, he introduced the method, citing its intriguing origins in a Sherlock Holmes story. To demonstrate its utility, he walked them through his recent dark mode project, showcasing how each Proglogging entry helped him navigate technical challenges and decision-making loops. Initially skeptical, his colleagues couldn’t ignore the evident success of the dark mode feature and Marco’s newfound enthusiasm. By the end of the week, Proglogging had become the team’s go-to method for task management, and it wasn’t long before other departments took notice. The Proglogging Method Unveiled Seeing the growing interest in his Proglogging method, Marco decided to take the time to articulate its core components and benefits for his team and, eventually, for a broader audience. Below is an overview of the Proglogging method: Overview Proglogging offers a structured approach to task management and reflection. Borrowing from traditional logging and journaling practices, it emphasizes the use of specific verbs to initiate each entry, ensuring clarity and purpose in documentation. Key Components : Proglogging captures thoughts one entry at a time, aiding clarity and reducing overwhelm. Single Entry Focus : Each entry commences with a designated verb, establishing the entry’s intent, be it an action, observation, or milestone. Verb-led Instructions Core Verbs : Documents observations, insights, or general information. Note : Specifies an imminent action or task. Do : Marks the completion of the task from the preceding “Do” entry. Done : Flags uncertainties or areas needing exploration. Question : Proposes potential solutions or hypotheses for a noted concern. Maybe : Introduces a future task or action. Add : Emphasizes significant achievements or challenges. Highlight : Forecasts the time or effort a task might entail. Estimate : Signals the beginning of a particular task or project. Start : Marks pauses or intervals taken in the workflow. Break Flexibility While foundational in its structure, Proglogging is designed for adaptability. Tailoring to align with individual workflows and preferences is encouraged. Benefits : The verb-led approach fosters organized thinking. Structured Thought : Tasks, observations, and reflections are clearly demarcated. Clarity : Applicable across various professional scenarios, from software development to academic research. Adaptability : Encourages introspection and learning from experiences. Reflection Usage & Notes Begin with a notebook or digital tool. Craft an entry starting with a chosen verb and follow its intent. : Add a Highlight when you feel a significant achievement has been reached or when something doesn’t function as anticipated. Highlight After extended work sessions, review all “Done” entries. Choose one or two as a Highlight to encapsulate the session’s essence. Locate all pending tasks by scanning the “Add” entries. The core verbs are a foundation. Feel free to expand upon or modify them as per individual needs. Over time, users develop a rhythm and style attuned to their workflow. The Legacy Continues From the gas-lit streets of Victorian London to the LED glow of contemporary computer screens, the journey of Dr. Watson’s ‘Inquiry Index’ to Marco’s Proglogging underlines the enduring power of structured thinking. Dr. Watson once hoped his method would prove useful to future generations, and indeed it has found its way into modern problem-solving. Both then and now, the method serves as a testament to human ingenuity, proving that good ideas have no expiration date. *: Oh, how I wish this story were true! But alas, the tale you read of a "newly discovered Sherlock Holmes manuscript" is pure fiction, spun from the depths of my imagination. As far as anyone knows, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle hasn't sent us any posthumous surprises.* Disclaimer [Next story in the series: ] When AI Joins the Dev Team

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