Rutger Hauer Rewrote His Iconic ‘Blade Runner’ Monologue, Added ‘Tears in Rain’ Himself

I watch a lot of movies (and television), probably more than I should. One of my favorite pieces of movie on-screen monologue is replicant Roy Batty’s monologue in Blade Runner. Other favorites include Hattori Hanzo’s monologue in Kill Bill, and some of V’s monologues from V for Vendetta. Yesterday, actor Rutger Hauer, who plays Batty, passed away. I learned that he actually wrote most of his excellent monologue himself, including the devastating last line:

“I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain. Time to die.”

Rest in peace.

The Bodhisattva of Compassion

Yesterday I learned about Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. This particular bit about, Chenrezig, one of the forms of the bodhisattva stood out to me:

The bodhisattva vowed to clean up samsara once and for all. He put in a heroic effort. He thought he’d done it. But when he turned around again, the mess was back, unapologetically.

Chenrezig was so devastated by his failure to fix things that he shattered into a thousand pieces… What to do when even a bodhisattva of compassion can’t bear it any longer?

The story takes an instructive term. Amitabha, the Buddha of Boundless Light, comes down from his Pure Land and converts Chenrezig’s thousand shattered pieces into a thousand arms (plus eleven heads, so he can look in all directions). I find it hugely instructive that Amitabha gives Chenrezig a thousand tools and says, Hey, keep going.

Chenrezig’s thousand arms are a token expression of the patience and fortitude essential to the bodhisattva vow. As our world prepares to blow itself apart yet again, Chenrezig becomes more than just a symbol; the bodhisattva is an absolute necessity, a guide and refuge.

Steve Jobs, the Xerox Alto, and computer typography

A few nights ago I met a wonderful woman at a pipe organ concert who worked for several decades at Xerox, programmed in the Mesa and Cedar languages, as well as Smalltalk on the original Altos.

She told me that she eventually left programming because she felt like modern computing and programming had become bureaucratic and process-oriented, more like engineering and less creative. These days she was more interested in statistics and data science.

Personally I’m glad to see computing and programming mature into a engineering discipline, but I would also very much like to see programming embraced as a creative endeavor. I hope that it’s possible to do both: embrace modern type systems, property-based testing and metaprogramming to build reliable systems, while interacting with clean and beautiful tools and interfaces instead of the modern mess of HTML/CSS/JavaScript (or similar messes in other technology stacks).

Problem: I am a human being

A relevant excerpt:

“If you are a person who has come of age during the time of ubiquitous internet access and github, you cannot know what having access to the source code of an entire operating system meant in the mid 90s. When I saw the impact this access had on my own life in the coming years, I began to view closed source software as unethical. In a society that was increasingly mediated by software, restricting access to learning about software works is in my opinion a means of control and subjugation.”

For me, growing up in India, that time was the early 2000s. My first Linux distro was Ubuntu, thanks largely to Canonical shipping out Ubuntu CDs to people around the world, something that seemed like a ludicrous idea at the time.

I wouldn’t be where I am without free software (both free as in beer, and free as in freedom). Also, Star Trek.