RotatingSandwiches.com is a website showcasing animated GIF files of rotating
sandwiches1. But it’s got a problem: 2 of the 51 sandwiches rotate the
wrong way. So I’ve fixed it:
The Eggplant Parm Sub is one of two sandwiches whose rotation doesn’t match the rest.
My fix is available as a userscript on GreasyFork, so you can use your
favourite userscript manager2
to install it and the rotation will be fixed for you too. Here’s the code (it’s pretty simple):
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// ==UserScript==// @name Standardise sandwich rotation on rotatingsandwiches.com// @namespace rotatingsandwiches.com.danq.me// @match https://rotatingsandwiches.com/*// @grant GM_addStyle// @version 1.0// @author Dan Q <https://danq.me/>// @license The Unlicense / Public Domain// @description Some sandwiches on rotatingsandwiches.com rotate in the opposite direction to the majority. 😡 Let's fix that.// ==/UserScript==
GM_addStyle('.q23-image-216, .q23-image-217 { transform: scaleX(-1); }');
Unless you’re especially agitated by irregular sandwich rotation, this is perhaps the most-pointless userscript ever created. So why did I go to the trouble?
Fixing Websites
Obviously, I’m telling you this as a vehicle to talk about userscripts in general and why you should be using them.
But the real magic is being able to remix the web your way. With just a little bit of CSS or JavaScript experience you
can stop complaining that a website’s design has changed in some way you don’t like or that some functionality you use isn’t as powerful or convenient as you’d like and you can fix
it.
A website I used disables scrolling until all their (tracking, advertising, etc.) JavaScript loads, and my privacy blocker blocks those files: I could cave and disable my browser’s
privacy tools… but it was almost as fast to add setInterval(()=>document.body.style.overflow='', 200); to a userscript and now it’s fixed.
Don’t want a Sports section on your BBC News homepage (not just the RSS
feed!)? document.querySelector('a[href="/sport"]').closest('main > div').remove(). Sorted.
I’m a huge fan of building your own tools to “scratch your own itch”. Userscripts are a highly accessible introduction to doing so that even beginner programmers can get on board with
and start getting value from. More-advanced scripts can do immensely clever and powerful things, but even if you just use them to apply a few light CSS touches to your favourite websites, that’s still a win.
Footnotes
1 Remember when a website’s domain name used to be connected to what it was for?
RotatingSandwiches.com does.
I thought it might be fun to try to map the limits of my geocaching/geohashing. That is, to draw the smallest possible convex polygon that surrounds all of the
geocaches I’ve found and geohashpoints I’ve successfully visited.
Mathematically, such a shape is a convex hull – the smallest polygon encircling a set of points without concavity. Here’s how I made it:
1. Extract all the longitude/latitude pairs for every successful geocaching find and geohashpoint expedition.I keep them in my blog database, so I was able to use some SQL to
fetch them:
SELECTDISTINCT coord_lon.meta_value lon, coord_lat.meta_value lat
FROM wp_posts
LEFTJOIN wp_postmeta expedition_result ON wp_posts.ID = expedition_result.post_id AND expedition_result.meta_key ='checkin_type'LEFTJOIN wp_postmeta coord_lat ON wp_posts.ID = coord_lat.post_id AND coord_lat.meta_key ='checkin_latitude'LEFTJOIN wp_postmeta coord_lon ON wp_posts.ID = coord_lon.post_id AND coord_lon.meta_key ='checkin_longitude'LEFTJOIN wp_term_relationships ON wp_posts.ID = wp_term_relationships.object_id
LEFTJOIN wp_term_taxonomy ON wp_term_relationships.term_taxonomy_id = wp_term_taxonomy.term_taxonomy_id
LEFTJOIN wp_terms ON wp_term_taxonomy.term_id = wp_terms.term_id
WHERE wp_posts.post_type ='post'AND wp_posts.post_status ='publish'AND wp_term_taxonomy.taxonomy ='kind'AND wp_terms.slug ='checkin'AND expedition_result.meta_value IN ('Found it', 'found', 'coordinates reached', 'Attended');
2. Next, I determine the convex hull of these points. There are an interesting variety of
algorithms for this so I adapted the Monotone Chain approach (there are
convenient implementations in many languages). The algorithm seems pretty efficient, although that doesn’t matter much to me because I’m caching the results for a fortnight.
I watched way too many animations of different convex hull algorithms before selecting this one… pretty-much arbitrarily.
An up-to-date (well, no-more than two weeks outdated) version of the map appears on my geo* stats page. I don’t often get to go caching/hashing
outside the bounds already-depicted, but I’m excited to try to find opportunities to push the boundaries outwards as I continue to explore the world!
(I could, I suppose, try to draw a second larger area of places I’ve visited: the difference between the smaller and larger areas would represent all of the opportunities I’d missed to
find a hashpoint!)
I was contacted this week by a geocacher called Dominik who, like me, loves geocaching…. but hates it when the coordinates for a cache are hidden behind a virtual jigsaw puzzle.
A popular online jigsaw tool used by lazy geocache owners is Jigidi: I’ve come up with severaltechniques for bypassing their puzzles or at least making
them easier.
Not just any puzzle; the geocache used an ~1000 piece puzzle! Ugh!
I experimented with a few ways to work-around the jigsaw, e.g. dramatically increasing the “snap range” so dragging a piece any distance would result in it jumping to a
neighbour, and extracting original image URLs from localStorage. All were good, but none were
perfect.
For a while, making pieces “snap” at any range seemed to be the best hacky workaround.
Then I realised that – unlike Jigidi, where there can be a congratulatory “completion message” (with e.g. geocache coordinates in) – in JigsawExplorer the prize is seeing the
completed jigsaw.
You can click a button to see the “box” of a jigsaw, but this can be disabled by the image uploader.
Let’s work on attacking that bit of functionality. After all: if we can bypass the “added challenge” we’ll be able to see the finished jigsaw and, therefore, the geocache
coordinates. Like this:
Hackaround
Here’s how it’s done. Or keep reading if you just want to follow the instructions!
Open a jigsaw and try the “box cover” button at the top. If you get the message “This puzzle’s box top preview is disabled for added challenge.”, carry on.
Open your browser’s debug tools (F12) and navigate to the Sources tab.
Find the jigex-prog.js file. Right-click and select Override Content (or Add Script Override).
In the overridden version of the file, search for the string – e&&e.customMystery?tt.msgbox("This puzzle's box top preview is disabled for added challenge."): –
this code checks if the puzzle has the “custom mystery” setting switched on and if so shows the message, otherwise (after the :) shows the box cover.
Carefully delete that entire string. It’ll probably appear twice.
Reload the page. Now the “box cover” button will work.
The moral, as always, might be: don’t put functionality into the client-side JavaScript if you don’t want the user to be able to bypass it.
Or maybe the moral is: if you’re going to make a puzzle geocache, put some work in and do something clever, original, and ideally with fieldwork rather than yet another low-effort
“upload a picture and choose the highest number of jigsaw pieces to cut it into from the dropdown”.
Yesterday, I wrote the stupidest bit of CSS of my entire career.
Two new visual elements and one textual one will make it clear where a product’s placement in the marketplace is sponsored.
Owners of online shops powered by WooCommerce can optionally “connect” their stores back to Woo.com. This enables them to manage their subscriptions to
any extensions they use to enhance their store1. They can also browse a
marketplace of additional extensions they might like to consider, which is somewhat-tailored to them based on e.g. their geographical location2
In the future, we’ll be adding sponsored products to the marketplace listing, but we want to be transparent about it so yesterday I was working on some code that would determine from
the appropriate API whether an extension was sponsored and then style it differently to make this clear. I took
a look at the proposal from the designer attached to the project, which called for
the word “Sponsored” to appear alongside the name of the extension’s developer,
a stripe at the top in the brand colour of the extension, and
a strange green blob alongside it
That third thing seemed like an odd choice, but I figured that probably I just didn’t have the design or marketing expertise to understand it, and I diligently wrote some appropriate code.3
I even attached to my PR a video demonstrating how my code reviewers could test it without spoofing actual sponsored
extensions.
After some minor tweaks, my change was approved. The designer even swung by and gave it a thumbs-up. All I needed to do was wait for the automated end-to-end tests to complete, and I’d
be able to add it to WooCommerce ready to be included in the next-but-one release. Nice.
In the meantime, I got started on my next bit of work. This one also included some design work by the same designer, and wouldn’t you know it… this one also had a little green
blob on it?
I’m almost embarrassed to admit that my first thought was that this must be part of some wider design strategy to put little green blobs everywhere.
Then it hit me. The blobs weren’t part of the design at all, but the designer’s way of saying “look at this bit, it’s important!”. Whoops!
So I got to rush over to my (already-approved, somehow!) changeset and rip out
the offending CSS: the stupidest bit of CSS of my entire career.
Not bad code per se, but reasonable code resulting from a damn-stupid misinterpretation of a designer’s wishes. Brilliant.
3 A fun side-effect of working on open-source software is that my silly mistake gets
immortalised somewhere where you can go and see it any time you like!
I used to have a single minor niggle with the BBC News RSS feed: that it included sports news, which I didn’t care
about. So I wrote a script that downloaded it, stripped
sports news, and re-exported the feed for me to subscribe to. Magic.
Lately my BBC News feed has caused me some annoyance and frustration.
But lately – presumably as a result of technical changes at the Beeb’s side – this feed has found two fresh ways to annoy me:
The feed now re-publishes a story if it gets re-promoted to the front page… but with a different<guid> (it appears to get a #0 after it
when first published, a #1 the second time, and so on). In a typical day the feed reader might scoop up new stories about once an hour, any by the time I get to reading them the
same exact story might appear in my reader multiple times. Ugh.
They’ve started adding iPlayer and BBC Sounds content to the BBC News feed. I don’t follow BBC News in my feed reader because I want to watch or listen to things. If
you do, that’s fine, but I don’t, and I’d rather filter this content out.
Luckily, I already have a recipe for improving this feed, thanks to my prior work. Let’s look at my newly-revised script (also available on GitHub):
#!/usr/bin/env rubyrequire'bundler/inline'# # Sample crontab:# # At 41 minutes past each hour, run the script and log the results# */20 * * * * ~/bbc-news-rss-filter-sport-out.rb > ~/bbc-news-rss-filter-sport-out.log 2>>&1# Dependencies:# * open-uri - load remote URL content easily# * nokogiri - parse/filter XML
gemfile do
source 'https://rubygems.org'
gem 'nokogiri'endrequire'open-uri'# Regular expression describing the GUIDs to reject from the resulting RSS feed# We want to drop everything from the "sport" section of the website, also any iPlayer/Sounds linksREJECT_GUIDS_MATCHING=/^https:\/\/www\.bbc\.co\.uk\/(sport|iplayer|sounds)\//# Load and filter the original RSS
rss =Nokogiri::XML(open('https://feeds.bbci.co.uk/news/rss.xml?edition=uk'))
rss.css('item').select{|item| item.css('guid').text =~REJECT_GUIDS_MATCHING }.each(&:unlink)
# Strip the anchors off the <guid>s: BBC News "republishes" stories by using guids with #0, #1, #2 etc, which results in duplicates in feed readers
rss.css('guid').each{|g|g.content=g.content.gsub(/#.*$/,'')}
File.open( '/www/bbc-news-no-sport.xml', 'w' ){ |f| f.puts(rss.to_s) }
It’s amazing what you can do with Nokogiri and a half dozen lines of Ruby.
That revised script removes from the feed anything whose <guid> suggests it’s sports news or from BBC Sounds or iPlayer, and also strips any “anchor” part of the
<guid> before re-exporting the feed. Much better. (Strictly speaking, this can result in a technically-invalid feed by introducing duplicates, but your feed reader
oughta be smart enough to compensate for and ignore that: mine certainly is!)
You’re free to take and adapt the script to your own needs, or – if you don’t mind being tied to my opinions about what should be in BBC News’ RSS feed – just subscribe to my copy at: https://fox.q-t-a.uk/bbc-news-no-sport.xml
This feels disappointingly like the prompt from day 2, but I’m gonna pivot it by letting my answer from three weeks ago only cover
one of the five points:
Code
Magic
Piano
Play
Learn
Let’s take a look at each of those, briefly.
Code
Code is poetry. Code is fun. Code is a many-splendoured thing.
When I’m not coding for work or coding as a volunteer, I’m often caught
coding for fun. Sometimes I write WordPress-ey things. Sometimes I write other random things. I tend to open-source almost everything I write, most
of it via my GitHub account.
Magic
Now I don’t work in the city centre nor have easy access to other magicians, I don’t perform as much magic as I used to. But I still try to keep my hand in and occasionally try new
things; I enjoy practicing sleights when I’m doing work-related things that don’t require my hands (meetings, code reviews, waiting for the damn unit tests to run…), a tip I learned
from fellow magician Andy.
My favourite go-to trick with an untampered deck of cards is my variant of the Ambitious Classic; here’s a bit from the middle of the trick from the last time I performed it in a
video meeting.
You’ll usually find a few decks of cards on my desk at any given time, mostly Bikes.1
Piano
I started teaching myself piano during the Covid lockdowns as a distraction from not being able to go anywhere (apparently I’m not the only one), and as an effort to do more of what I’m bad at.2
Since then, I’ve folded about ten minutes of piano-playing3,
give or take, into my routine virtually every day.
This is what piano playing looks like. But perhaps only barely.
I fully expect that I’ll never be as accomplished at it as, say, the average 8-year-old on YouTube, but that’s not what it’s about. If I take a break from programming, or meetings, or
childcare, or anything, I can feel that playing music exercises a totally different part of my mind. I’d heard musicians talk about such an experience before,
but I’d assumed that it was hyperbole… but from my perspective, they’re right: practicing an instrument genuinely does feel like using a part of your brain than you use for anything
else, which I love!
A lot of my RPG-gaming takes place online, via virtual tabletops, and is perhaps the most obvious “playtime” play activities I routinely engage in.
At the weekend I dusted off Vox Populi, my favourite mod for Civilization V, my favourite4
entry in the Civilization series, which in turn is one of my favourite video game series5. I don’t
get as much time for videogaming as I might like, but that’s probably for the best because a couple of hours disappeared on Sunday evening before I even blinked! It’s addictive
stuff.
Learn
As I mentioned back on day 3 of bloganuary, I’m a lifelong learner. But even when I’m not learning in an academic setting, I’m
doubtless learning something. I tend to alternate between fiction and non-fiction books on my bedside table. I often get lost on deep-dives through the depths of the Web after
a Wikipedia article makes me ask “wait, really?” And just sometimes, I set out to learn some kind of new skill.
In short: with such a variety of fun things lined-up, I rarely get the opportunity to be bored6!
Footnotes
1 I like the feel of Bicycle cards and the way they fan. Plus: the white border – which is
actually a security measure on playing cards designed to make bottom-dealing more-obvious and thus make it harder for people to cheat at e.g. poker – can actually be turned to work
for the magician when doing certain sleights, including one seen in the mini-video above…
2 I’m not strictly bad at it, it’s just that I had essential no music tuition or
instrument experience whatsoever – I didn’t even have a recorder at primary school! – and so I was starting at square zero.
3 Occasionally I’ll learn a bit of a piece of music, but mostly I’m trying to improve my
ability to improvise because that scratches an itch in a part of my brain in a way that I find most-interesting!
4 Games in the series I’ve extensively played include: Civilization,
CivNet, Civilization II (also Test of Time), Alpha Centauri (a game so good I paid for it three times, despite having previously pirated
it), Civilization III, Civilization IV, Civilization V, Beyond Earth (such a disappointment compared to SMAC) and Civilization VI, plus all their expansions except for the very latest one for VI. Also spinoffs/clones
FreeCiv, C-Evo, and both Call to Power games. Oh, and at least two of the board games. And that’s just the ones I’ve played enough to talk in detail about:
I’m not including things like Revolution which I played an hour of and hated so much I shan’t touch it again, nor either version of Colonization which I’m
treating separately…
Now I’ve added support for Spartan3 too and, seeing as the implementations shared functionality, I’ve
combined all three – Gemini, Spartan, and Gopher – into a single package: CapsulePress.
CapsulePress is a Gemini/Spartan/Gopher to WordPress bridge. It lets you use WordPress as a CMS for any or all of
those three non-Web protocols in addition to the Web.
For example, that means that this post is available on all of:
It’s also possible to write posts that selectively appear via different media: if I want to put something exclusively on my gemlog, I can, by assigning metadata that
tells WordPress to suppress a post but still expose it to CapsulePress. Neat!
Using Gemini and friends in the 2020s make me feel like the dream of the Internet of the nineties and early-naughties is still alive. But with fewer banner ads.
I’ve open-sourced the whole thing under a super-permissive license, so if you want your own WordPress blog to “feed” your Gemlog… now you can. With a few caveats:
It’s hard to use. While not as hacky as the disparate piles of code it replaced, it’s still not the cleanest. To modify it you’ll need a basic comprehension of all
three protocols, plus Ruby, SQL, and sysadmin skills.
It’s super opinionated. It’s very much geared towards my use case. It’s improved by the use of templates. but it’s still probably only suitable for this
site for the time being, until you make changes.
It’s very-much unfinished. I’ve got a growing to-do list, which should
be a good clue that it’s Not Finished. Maybe it never will but. But there’ll be changes yet to come.
Whether or not your WordPress blog makes the jump to Geminispace4, I hope you’ll came take a look at mine at one of the URLs linked above,
and then continue to explore.
If you’re nostalgic for the interpersonal Internet – or just the idea of it, if you’re too young to remember it… you’ll find it there. (That Internet never actually went away,
but it’s harder to find on today’s big Web than it is on lighter protocols.)
This post is also available as an article. So if you'd
rather read a conventional blog post of this content, you can!
This video accompanies a blog post of the same title. The content is mostly the same; the blog post contains a few extra elements (especially in
the footnotes!). Enjoy whichever one you choose.
Of all of the videogames I’ve ever played, perhaps the one that’s had the biggest impact on my life1
was: Werewolves and (the) Wanderer.2
This simple text-based adventure was originally written by Tim Hartnell for use in his 1983 book Creating Adventure
Games on your Computer. At the time, it was common for computing books and magazines to come with printed copies of program source code which you’d need to re-type on your own
computer, printing being significantly many orders of magnitude cheaper than computer media.3
Werewolves and Wanderer was adapted for the Amstrad CPC4 by Martin Fairbanks and published in The Amazing Amstrad Omnibus (1985),
which is where I first discovered it.
When I first came across the source code to Werewolves, I’d already begun my journey into computer programming. This started alongside my mother and later – when her
quantity of free time was not able to keep up with my level of enthusiasm – by myself.
I’d been working my way through the operating manual for our microcomputer, trying to understand it all.5
The ring-bound 445-page A4 doorstep of a book quickly became adorned with my pencilled-in notes, the way a microcomputer manual ought to
be. It’s strange to recall that there was a time that beginner programmers still needed to be reminded to press [ENTER] at the end of each line.
And even though I’d typed-in dozens of programs before, both larger and smaller, it was Werewolves that finally helped so many key concepts “click” for me.
In particular, I found myself comparing Werewolves to my first attempt at a text-based adventure. Using what little I’d grokked of programming so far, I’d put together
a series of passages (blocks of PRINT statements6)
with choices (INPUT statements) that sent the player elsewhere in the story (using, of course, the long-considered-harmfulGOTO statement), Choose-Your-Own-Adventure style.
Werewolves was… better.
By the time I was the model of a teenage hacker, I’d been writing software for years. Most of it terrible.
Werewolves and Wanderer was my first lesson in how to structure a program.
Let’s take a look at a couple of segments of code that help illustrate what I mean (here’s the full code, if you’re interested):
10REM WEREWOLVES AND WANDERER
20GOSUB2600:REM INTIALISE30GOSUB16040IF RO<>11THEN30
50 PEN 1:SOUND 5,100:PRINT:PRINT"YOU'VE DONE IT!!!":GOSUB3520:SOUND 5,80:PRINT"THAT WAS THE EXIT FROM THE CASTLE!":SOUND 5,20060GOSUB352070PRINT:PRINT"YOU HAVE SUCCEEDED, ";N$;"!":SOUND 5,10080PRINT:PRINT"YOU MANAGED TO GET OUT OF THE CASTLE"90GOSUB3520100PRINT:PRINT"WELL DONE!"110GOSUB3520:SOUND 5,80120PRINT:PRINT"YOUR SCORE IS";
130PRINT3*TALLY+5*STRENGTH+2*WEALTH+FOOD+30*MK:FOR J=1TO10:SOUND 5,RND*100+10:NEXT J
140PRINT:PRINT:PRINT:END...2600REM INTIALISE2610 MODE 1:BORDER 1:INK 0,1:INK 1,24:INK 2,26:INK 3,18:PAPER 0:PEN 22620 RANDOMIZE TIME
2630 WEALTH=75:FOOD=02640 STRENGTH=1002650 TALLY=02660 MK=0:REM NO. OF MONSTERS KILLED...3510REM DELAY LOOP3520FOR T=1TO900:NEXT T
3530RETURN
Locomotive BASIC had mandatory line numbering. The spacing and gaps (...) have been added for readability/your convenience.
What’s interesting about the code above? Well…
The code for “what to do when you win the game” is very near the top. “Winning” is the default state. The rest of the adventure exists to obstruct that. In a
language with enforced line numbering and no screen editor7,
it makes sense to put fixed-length code at the top… saving space for the adventure to grow below.
Two subroutines are called (the GOSUB statements):
The first sets up the game state: initialising the screen (2610), the RNG (2620), and player
characteristics (2630 – 2660). This also makes it easy to call it again (e.g. if the player is given the option to “start over”). This subroutine
goes on to set up the adventure map (more on that later).
The second starts on line 160: this is the “main game” logic. After it runs, each time, line 40 checks IF RO<>11 THEN 30. This tests
whether the player’s location (RO) is room 11: if so, they’ve exited the castle and won the adventure. Otherwise, flow returns to line 30 and the “main
game” subroutine happens again. This broken-out loop improving the readability and maintainability of the code.8
A common subroutine is the “delay loop” (line 3520). It just counts to 900! On a known (slow) processor of fixed speed, this is a simpler way to put a delay in than
relying on a real-time clock.
The game setup gets more interesting still when it comes to setting up the adventure map. Here’s how it looks:
Again, I’ve tweaked this code to improve readability, including adding indention on the loops, “modern-style”, and spacing to make the DATA statements form a “table”.
What’s this code doing?
Line 2690 defines an array (DIM) with two dimensions9
(19 by 7). This will store room data, an approach that allows code to be shared between all rooms: much cleaner than my first attempt at an adventure with each room
having its own INPUT handler.
The two-level loop on lines 2700 through 2730 populates the room data from the DATA blocks. Nowadays you’d probably put that data in a
separate file (probably JSON!). Each “row” represents a room, 1 to 19. Each “column” represents the room you end up
at if you travel in a given direction: North, South, East, West, Up, or Down. The seventh column – always zero – represents whether a monster (negative number) or treasure
(positive number) is found in that room. This column perhaps needn’t have been included: I imagine it’s a holdover from some previous version in which the locations of some or all of
the treasures or monsters were hard-coded.
The loop beginning on line 2850 selects seven rooms and adds a random amount of treasure to each. The loop beginning on line 2920 places each of six
monsters (numbered -1 through -6) in randomly-selected rooms. In both cases, the start and finish rooms, and any room with a treasure or monster, is
ineligible. When my 8-year-old self finally deciphered what was going on I was awestruck at this simple approach to making the game dynamic.
Rooms 4 and 16 always receive treasure (lines 2970 – 2980), replacing any treasure or monster already there: the Private Meeting Room (always
worth a diversion!) and the Treasury, respectively.
Curiously, room 9 (the lift) defines three exits, even though it’s impossible to take an action in this location: the player teleports to room 10 on arrival! Again, I assume this is
vestigal code from an earlier implementation.
The “checksum” that’s tested on line 2740 is cute, and a younger me appreciated deciphering it. I’m not convinced it’s necessary (it sums all of the values in
the DATA statements and expects 355 to limit tampering) though, or even useful: it certainly makes it harder to modify the rooms, which may undermine
the code’s value as a teaching aid!
By the time I was 10, I knew this map so well that I could draw it perfectly from memory. I almost managed the same today, aged 42. That memory’s buried deep!
Something you might notice is missing is the room descriptions. Arrays in this language are strictly typed: this array can only contain integers and not strings. But there are
other reasons: line length limitations would have required trimming some of the longer descriptions. Also, many rooms have dynamic content, usually based on random numbers, which would
be challenging to implement in this way.
As a child, I did once try to refactor the code so that an eighth column of data specified the line number to which control should pass to display the room description. That’s
a bit of a no-no from a “mixing data and logic” perspective, but a cool example of metaprogramming before I even knew it! This didn’t work, though: it turns out you can’t pass a
variable to a Locomotive BASIC GOTO or GOSUB. Boo!10
In hindsight, I could have tested the functionality before I refactored with a very simple program, but I was only around 10 or 11 and still had lots to learn!
Werewolves and Wanderer has many faults11.
But I’m clearly not the only developer whose early skills were honed and improved by this game, or who hold a special place in their heart for it. Just while writing this post, I
discovered:
Many, many people commenting on the above or elsewhere about how instrumental the game was in their programming journey, too.
A decade or so later, I’d be taking my first steps as a professional software engineer. A couple more decades later, I’m still doing it.
And perhaps that adventure -the one that’s occupied my entire adult life – was facilitated by this text-based one from the 1980s.
Footnotes
1 The game that had the biggest impact on my life, it might surprise you to hear, is
not among the “top ten videogames that stole
my life” that I wrote about almost exactly 16 years ago nor the follow-up list I published in its incomplete form three years later. Turns out that time and
impact are not interchangable. Who knew?
2 The game is variously known as Werewolves and Wanderer, Werewolves and
Wanderers, or Werewolves and the
Wanderer. Or, on any system I’ve been on, WERE.BAS, WEREWOLF.BAS, or WEREWOLV.BAS, thanks to the CPC’s eight-point-three filename limit.
3 Additionally, it was thought that having to undertake the (painstakingly tiresome)
process of manually re-entering the source code for a program might help teach you a little about the code and how it worked, although this depended very much on how readable the code
and its comments were. Tragically, the more comprehensible some code is, the more long-winded the re-entry process.
5 One of my favourite features of home microcomputers was that seconds after you turned them on, you could start programming. Your prompt
was an interface to a programming language. That magic had begun to fade by the time DOS came to dominate
(sure, you can program using batch files, but they’re neither as elegant nor sophisticated as any BASIC dialect) and was completely lost by the era of booting
directly into graphical operating systems. One of my favourite features about the Web is that it gives you some of that magic back again: thanks to the debugger in a modern browser,
you can “tinker” with other people’s code once more, right from the same tool you load up every time. (Unfortunately, mobile devices – which have fast become the dominant way for
people to use the Internet – have reversed this trend again. Try to View Source on your mobile – if you don’t already know how, it’s not an easy job!)
6 In particular, one frustration I remember from my first text-based adventure was that
I’d been unable to work around Locomotive BASIC’s lack of string escape sequences – not that I yet knew what such a thing would be called – in order to put quote marks inside a quoted
string!
7 “Screen editors” is what we initially called what you’d nowadays call a “text editor”:
an application that lets you see a page of text at the same time, move your cursor about the place, and insert text wherever you feel like. It may also provide features like
copy/paste and optional overtyping. Screen editors require more resources (and aren’t suitable for use on a teleprinter) compared to line editors, which preceeded them. Line editors only let you view and edit a single line at a time, which is how most of my first 6
years of programming was done.
8 In a modern programming language, you might use while true or similar for a
main game loop, but this requires pushing the “outside” position to the stack… and early BASIC dialects often had strict (and small, by modern standards) limits on stack height that
would have made this a risk compared to simply calling a subroutine from one line and then jumping back to that line on the next.
9 A neat feature of Locomotive BASIC over many contemporary and older BASIC dialects was
its support for multidimensional arrays. A common feature in modern programming languages, this language feature used to be pretty rare, and programmers had to do bits of division and
modulus arithmetic to work around the limitation… which, I can promise you, becomes painful the first time you have to deal with an array of three or more dimensions!
10 In reality, this was rather unnecessary, because the ON x GOSUB command
can – and does, in this program – accept multiple jump points and selects the one
referenced by the variable x.
11 Aside from those mentioned already, other clear faults include: impenetrable
controls unless you’ve been given instuctions (although that was the way at the time); the shopkeeper will penalise you for trying to spend money you don’t have, except on food,
presumably as a result of programmer laziness; you can lose your flaming torch, but you can’t buy spares in advance (you can pay for more, and you lose the money, but you don’t get a
spare); some of the line spacing is sometimes a little wonky; combat’s a bit of a drag; lack of feedback to acknowledge the command you enterted and that it was successful; WHAT’S
WITH ALL THE CAPITALS; some rooms don’t adequately describe their exits; the map is a bit linear; etc.
A year and a half ago I came up with a technique for intercepting the “shuffle” operation
on jigsaw website Jigidi, allowing players to force the pieces to appear in a consecutive “stack” for ludicrously easy solving. I did this
partially because I was annoyed that a collection of geocaches near me used Jigidi puzzles as a barrier to their coordinates1…
but also because I enjoy hacking my way around artificially-imposed constraints on the Web (see, for example, my efforts last week to circumvent region-blocking on radio.garden).
My solver didn’t work for long: code changes at Jigidi’s end first made it harder, then made it impossible, to use the approach I suggested. That’s fine by me – I’d already got what I
wanted – but the comments thread on that post suggests that there’s
a lot of people who wish it still worked!2
And so I ignored the pleas of people who wanted me to re-develop a “Jigidi solver”. Until recently, when I once again needed to solve a jigsaw puzzle in order to find a geocache’s
coordinates.
Making A Jigidi Helper
Rather than interfere with the code provided by Jigidi, I decided to take a more-abstract approach: swapping out the jigsaw’s image for one that would be easier.
This approach benefits from (a) having multiple mechanisms of application: query interception, DNS hijacking, etc., meaning that if one stops working then another one can be easily
rolled-out, and (b) not relying so-heavily on the structure of Jigidi’s code (and therefore not being likely to “break” as a result of future upgrades to Jigidi’s platform).
It’s not as powerful as my previous technique – more a “helper” than a “solver” – but it’s good enough to shave at least half the time off that I’d otherwise spend solving a Jigidi
jigsaw, which means I get to spend more time out in the rain looking for lost tupperware. (If only geocaching were even the weirdest of my hobbies…)
How To Use The Jigidi Helper
To do this yourself and simplify your efforts to solve those annoying “all one colour” or otherwise super-frustrating jigsaw puzzles, here’s what you do:
Visit a Jigidi jigsaw. Do not be logged-in to a Jigidi account.
Open your browser’s debug tools (usually F12). In the Console tab, paste it and press enter. You can close your debug tools again (F12) if you like.
Press Jigidi’s “restart” button, next to the timer. The jigsaw will restart, but the picture will be replaced with one that’s easier-to-solve than most, as described below.
Once you solve the jigsaw, the image will revert to normal (turn your screen around and show off your success to a friend!).
What makes it easier to solve?
The replacement image has the following characteristics that make it easier to solve than it might otherwise be:
Every piece has written on it the row and column it belongs in.
Every “column” is striped in a different colour.
Striped “bands” run along entire rows and columns.
To solve the jigsaw, start by grouping colours together, then start combining those that belong in the same column (based on the second digit on the piece). Join whole or partial
columns together as you go.
I’ve been using this technique or related ones for over six months now and no code changes on Jigidi’s side have impacted upon it at all, so it’s probably got better longevity than the
previous approach. I’m not entirely happy with it, and you might not be either, so feel free to fork my code and improve it: the legiblity of the numbers is sometimes suboptimal, and
the colour banding repeats on larger jigsaws which I’d rather avoid. There’s probably also potential to improve colour-recognition by making the colour bands span the gaps
between rows or columns of pieces, too, but more experiments are needed and, frankly, I’m not the right person for the job. For the second time, I’m going to abandon a tool
that streamlines Jigidi solving because I’ve already gotten what I needed out of it, and I’ll leave it up to you if you want to come up with an improvement and share it with the
community.
Footnotes
1 As I’ve mentioned before, and still nobody believes me: I’m not a fan of jigsaws! If you
enjoy them, that’s great: grab a bucket of popcorn and a jigsaw and go wild… but don’t feel compelled to share either with me.
2 The comments also include asuper-helpful person called Rich who’s been manually
solving people’s puzzles for them, and somebody called Perdita
who “could be my grandmother” (except: no) with whom I enjoyed a
conversation on- and off-line about the ethics of my technique. It’s one of the most-popular comment threads my blog has ever seen.
Just in time for Robin Sloan to give up on Spring ’83, earlier this month I finally got aroud to launching STS-6 (named for the first mission of the Space Shuttle Challenger in Spring 1983), my
experimental Spring ’83 server. It’s been a busy year; I had other things to do. But you might have guessed that something like this had been under my belt when I open-sourced a keygenerator for the protocol the other day.
If you’ve not played with Spring ’83, this post isn’t going to make much sense to you. Sorry.
My server is, as far as I can tell, very different from any others in a few key ways:
It does not allow third-party publishing at all. Some might argue that this undermines the aim of the exercise, but I disagree. My IndieWeb inclinations lead me to
favour “self-hosted” content, shared from its owners’ domain. Also: the specification clearly states that a server must implement a denylist… I guess my
denylist simply includes all keys that are not specifically permitted.
It’s geared towards dynamic content.My primary board self-publishes whenever I produce a new blog post, listing the most recent
blog posts published. I have another half-implemented which shows a summary of the most-recent post, and another which would would simply use a WordPress page as its basis – yes, this
was content management, but published over Spring ’83.
It provides helpers to streamline content production. It supports internal references to other boards you control using the format {{board:123}}which are
automatically converted to addresses referencing the public key of the “current” keypair for that board. This separates the concept of a board and its content template from that
board’s keypairs, making it easier to link to a board. To put it another way, STS-6 links are self-healing on the server-side (for local boards).
It helps automate content-fitting. Spring ’83 strictly requires a maximum board size of 2,217 bytes. STS-6 can be configured to fit a flexible amount of dynamic
content within a template area while respecting that limit. For my posts list board, the number of posts shown is moderated by the size of the resulting board: STS-6 adds more and
more links to the board until it’s too big, and then removes one!
It provides “hands-off” key management features. You can pregenerate a list of keys with different validity periods and the server will automatically cycle through
them as necessary, implementing and retroactively-modifying <link rel="next"> connections to keep them current.
I’m sure that there are those who would see this as automating something that was beautiful because it was handcrafted; I don’t know whether or not I agree, but had Spring ’83
taken off in a bigger way, it would always only have been a matter of time before somebody tried my approach.
From a design perspective, I enjoyed optimising an SVG image of my header so it could meaningfully fit into the board. It’s
pretty, and it’s tolerably lightweight.
If you want to see my server in action, patch this into your favourite Spring ’83 client:
https://s83.danq.dev/10c3ff2e8336307b0ac7673b34737b242b80e8aa63ce4ccba182469ea83e0623
A dead end?
Without Robin’s active participation, I feel that Spring ’83 is probably coming to a dead end. It’s been a lot of fun to play with and I’d love to see what ideas the experience of it
goes on to inspire next, but in its current form it’s one of those things that’s an interesting toy, but not something that’ll make serious waves.
In his last lab essay Robin already identified many of the key issues with the system (too complicated, no interpersonal-mentions, the challenge of keys-as-identifiers, etc.) and while
they’re all solvable without breaking the underlying mechanisms (mentions might be handled by Webmention, perhaps, etc.), I
understand the urge to take what was learned from this experiment and use it to help inform the decisions of the next one. Just as John Postel’s Quote of the Day protocol doesn’t see much use any more (although maybe if my
finger server could support QotD?) but went on to inspire the direction of many subsequent “call-and-response” protocols,
including HTTP, it’s okay if Spring ’83 disappears into obscurity, so long as we can learn what it did
well and build upon that.
Meanwhile: if you’re looking for a hot new “like the web but lighter” protocol, you should probably check out Gemini. (Incidentally, you
can find me at gemini://danq.me, but that’s something I’ll write about another day…)
Just wanted to share with you something I found ages ago but only just got around to mentioning – Julia Evans‘ (of Wizard Zines fame) Debugging Mysteries:
Each mystery is a Twine-powered “choose your own adventure” game in which you must diagnose the kind of issue that a software developer might, for
real. I think these are potentially excellent tools for beginner programmers, not just because they provide some information about the topic of each, but because they encourage
cultivating a mindset of the kind of thinking that’s required to get to the bottom of gnarly problems.
I swear that I used to be good at Mastermind when I was a kid. But now, when it’s my turn to break
the code that one of our kids has chosen, I fail more often than I succeed. That’s no good!
If you didn’t have me pegged as a board gamer… where the hell have you been?
Mastermind and me
Maybe it’s because I’m distracted; multitasking doesn’t help problem-solving. Or it’s because we’re “Super” Mastermind, which differs from the one I had as a child in that
eight (not six) peg colours are available and secret codes are permitted to have duplicate peg colours. These changes increase the possible permutations from 360 to 4,096, but the
number of guesses allowed only goes up from 8 to 10. That’s hard.
The set I had as a kid was like this, I think. Photo courtesy ZeroOne; CC-BY-SA license.
Hey, that’s an idea. Let’s crack the code… by writing some code!
This online edition plays a lot like the version our kids play, although the peg colours are different. Next guess should be an
easy solve!
Representing a search space
The search space for Super Mastermind isn’t enormous, and it lends itself to some highly-efficient computerised storage.
There are 8 different colours of peg. We can express these colours as a number between 0 and 7, in three bits of binary, like this:
Decimal
Binary
Colour
0
000
Red
1
001
Orange
2
010
Yellow
3
011
Green
4
100
Blue
5
101
Pink
6
110
Purple
7
111
White
There are four pegs in a row, so we can express any given combination of coloured pegs as a 12-bit binary number. E.g. 100 110 111 010 would represent the
permutation blue (100), purple (110), white (111), yellow (010). The total search space, therefore, is the range of numbers from
000000000000 through 111111111111… that is: decimal 0 through 4,095:
Decimal
Binary
Colours
0
000000000000
Red, red, red, red
1
000000000001
Red, red, red, orange
2
000000000010
Red, red, red, yellow
…………
4092
111111111100
White, white, white, blue
4093
111111111101
White, white, white, pink
4094
111111111110
White, white, white, purple
4095
111111111111
White, white, white, white
Whenever we make a guess, we get feedback in the form of two variables: each peg that is in the right place is a bull; each that represents a peg in the secret code but
isn’t in the right place is a cow (the names come from Mastermind’s precursor, Bulls & Cows). Four bulls
would be an immediate win (lucky!), any other combination of bulls and cows is still valuable information. Even a zero-score guess is valuable- potentially very valuable! – because it
tells the player that none of the pegs they’ve guessed appear in the secret code.
If one of Wordle‘s parents was Scrabble, then this was the other. Just ask its Auntie Twitter.
Solving with Javascript
The latest versions of Javascript support binary literals and bitwise operations, so we can encode and decode between arrays of four coloured pegs (numbers 0-7) and the number 0-4,095
representing the guess as shown below. Decoding uses an AND bitmask to filter to the requisite digits then divides by the order of magnitude. Encoding is just a reduce
function that bitshift-concatenates the numbers together.
/** * Decode a candidate into four peg values by using binary bitwise operations. */function decodeCandidate(candidate){
return [
(candidate &0b111000000000) /0b001000000000,
(candidate &0b000111000000) /0b000001000000,
(candidate &0b000000111000) /0b000000001000,
(candidate &0b000000000111) /0b000000000001
];
}
/** * Given an array of four integers (0-7) to represent the pegs, in order, returns a single-number * candidate representation. */function encodeCandidate(pegs) {
return pegs.reduce((a, b)=>(a <<3) + b);
}
With this, we can simply:
Produce a list of candidate solutions (an array containing numbers 0 through 4,095).
Choose one candidate, use it as a guess, and ask the code-maker how it scores.
Eliminate from the candidate solutions list all solutions that would not score the same number of bulls and cows for the guess that was made.
Repeat from step #2 until you win.
Step 3’s the most important one there. Given a function getScore( solution, guess ) which returns an array of [ bulls, cows ] a given guess would
score if faced with a specific solution, that code would look like this (I’m convined there must be a more-performant way to eliminate candidates from the list with XOR
bitmasks, but I haven’t worked out what it is yet):
/** * Given a guess (array of four integers from 0-7 to represent the pegs, in order) and the number * of bulls (number of pegs in the guess that are in the right place) and cows (number of pegs in the * guess that are correct but in the wrong place), eliminates from the candidates array all guesses * invalidated by this result. Return true if successful, false otherwise. */function eliminateCandidates(guess, bulls, cows){
const newCandidatesList = data.candidates.filter(candidate=>{
const score = getScore(candidate, guess);
return (score[0] == bulls) && (score[1] == cows);
});
if(newCandidatesList.length ==0) {
alert('That response would reduce the candidate list to zero.');
returnfalse;
}
data.candidates = newCandidatesList;
chooseNextGuess();
returntrue;
}
I continued in this fashion to write a full solution (source code). It uses ReefJS for
component rendering and state management, and you can try it for yourself right in your web browser. If you play against the online version I mentioned you’ll need to transpose the colours in your head: the physical version I play with the kids has pink and
purple pegs, but the online one replaces these with brown and black.
Testing the solution
Let’s try it out against the online version:
As expected, my code works well-enough to win the game every time I’ve tried, both against computerised and in-person opponents. So – unless you’ve been actively thinking about the
specifics of the algorithm I’ve employed – it might surprise you to discover that… my solution is very-much a suboptimal one!
My code has only failed to win a single game… and that turned out to because my opponent, playing overexcitedly, cheated in the third turn. To be fair, my code didn’t lose
either, though: it identified that a mistake must have been made and we declared the round void when we identified the problem.
My solution is suboptimal
A couple of games in, the suboptimality of my solution became pretty visible. Sure, it still won every game, but it was a blunt instrument, and anybody who’s seriously thought about
games like this can tell you why. You know how when you play e.g. Wordle (but not in “hard mode”) you sometimes want to type in a word that can’t possibly be the
solution because it’s the best way to rule in (or out) certain key letters? This kind of strategic search space bisection reduces the mean number of guesses you need to solve the
puzzle, and the same’s true in Mastermind. But because my solver will only propose guesses from the list of candidate solutions, it can’t make this kind of improvement.
My blog post about Break Into Us used a series of visual metaphors to show search space dissection, including this one. If you missed
it, it might be worth reading.
Search space bisection is also used in my adverserial hangman game, but in this case the aim is to split the search space in such a way that no
matter what guess a player makes, they always find themselves in the larger remaining portion of the search space, to maximise the number of guesses they have to make. Y’know, because
it’s evil.
A great first guess, assuming you’re playing against a random code and your rules permit the code to have repeated colours, is a “1122” pattern.
There are mathematically-derived heuristics to optimise Mastermind strategy. The first
of these came from none other than Donald Knuth (legend of computer science, mathematics, and pipe organs) back in 1977. His solution,
published at probably the height of the game’s popularity in the amazingly-named Journal of Recreational Mathematics, guarantees a solution to the six-colour version of the
game within five guesses. Ville [2013] solved an
optimal solution for a seven-colour variant, but demonstrated how rapidly the tree of possible moves grows and the need for early pruning – even with powerful modern computers – to
conserve memory. It’s a very enjoyable and readable paper.
But for my purposes, it’s unnecessary. My solver routinely wins within six, maybe seven guesses, and by nonchalantly glancing at my phone in-between my guesses I can now reliably guess
our children’s codes quickly and easily. In the end, that’s what this was all about.
![Scan of a ring-bound page from a technical manual. The page describes the use of the "INPUT" command, saying "This command is used to let the computer know that it is expecting something to be typed in, for example, the answer to a question". The page goes on to provide a code example of a program which requests the user's age and then says "you look younger than [age] years old.", substituting in their age. The page then explains how it was the use of a variable that allowed this transaction to occur.](/_q23u/2023/07/cpc664-manual-input-command.png)
