You, your program, and nothing else
Here’s the neatest thing nobody told me about BASIC:
If I want to add a line in between line 10 and 20, I just have to pick a number between 10 and 20, like 15. And then I type my line.
Oh, you can do that with line numbers? Not just GOTO 10?
Wait, it gets better:
Let’s say I wasn’t happy with line 15 and I wanted it to be different. I could just type in a new line number 15.
That blew my whippersnapper mind.
The trick is, there’s no “editor”. No files, no compiling.
You simply write into the computer’s memory, and tell it to run—from the moment you turn it on.
Even on my childhood TI-83 calculator, the program editor is a separate mode. But on an Apple II, it’s the default environment.
Defaults matter; they express a product’s purpose.
- A Macintosh shows you the Finder. I guess I’ll arrange some files and windows.
- An iPhone shows you the Home Screen. I guess I’ll browse some music and websites.
- A Game Boy? Put in a game, silly.
- And an Apple II? This thing is for programming.
That’s what inspired a generation about what computers should be.
Now I grok this complaint:
Every step between turning on the computer and running your program loses 30% of the students.
Imagine having to log in to your guitar and create a music document before you could start strumming.