Python and Ruby, each with roots going back into the 1990s, are two of the most popular interpreted programming languages today. Ruby is most widely known as the language in which the ubiquitous Ruby on Rails web application framework is written, but it also has legions of fans that use it for things that have nothing to do with the web. Python is a big hit in the numerical and scientific computing communities at the present time, rapidly displacing such longtime stalwarts as R when it comes to these applications. It too, however, is also put to a myriad of other uses, and the two languages probably vie for the title when it comes to how flexible their users find them.

A Matter of Personality...

That isn't to say that there aren't some major, immediately noticeable, differences between the two programming tongues. Ruby is famous for its flexibility and eagerness to please; it is seen by many as a cleaned-up continuation of Perl's "Do What I Mean" philosophy, whereby the interpreter does its best to figure out the meaning of evening non-canonical syntactic constructs. In fact, the language's creator, Yukihiro Matsumoto, chose his brainchild's name in homage to that earlier language's gemstone-inspired moniker.

Python, on the other hand, takes a very different tact. In a famous Python Enhancement Proposal called "The Zen of Python," longtime Pythonista Tim Peters declared it to be preferable that there should only be a single obvious way to do anything. Python enthusiasts and programmers, then, generally prize unanimity of style over syntactic flexibility compared to those who choose Ruby, and this shows in the code they create. Even Python's whitespace-sensitive parsing has a feel of lending clarity through syntactical enforcement that is very much at odds with the much fuzzier style of typical Ruby code.

For example, Python's much-admired list comprehension feature serves as the most obvious way to build up certain kinds of lists according to initial conditions:

a = [x**3 for x in range(10,20)]
b = [y for y in a if y % 2 == 0]

first builds up a list of the cubes of all of the numbers between 10 and 19 (yes, 19), assigning the result to 'a'. A second list of those elements in 'a' which are even is then stored in 'b'. One natural way to do this in Ruby is probably:

a = (10..19).map {|x| x ** 3}
b = a.select {|y| y.even?}

but there are a number of obvious alternatives, such as:

a = (10..19).collect do |x|
x ** 3
end

b = a.find_all do |y|
y % 2 == 0
end

It tends to be a little easier to come up with equally viable, but syntactically distinct, solutions in Ruby compared to Python, even for relatively simple tasks like the above. That is not to say that Ruby is a messy language, either; it is merely that it is somewhat freer and more forgiving than Python is, and many consider Python's relative purity in this regard a real advantage when it comes to writing clear, easily understandable code.

And Somewhat One of Performance

One of the most significant developments of mankind has been the art of writing. The earliest type of writing was in the form of graffiti and paintings on rocks and walls of caves. The first people who engaged in writing are reported to have been Sumerians and the Egyptians around 3500-3200 BC.[i] Early writing of this type was in the form of cuneiform and hieroglyphics. After that, writing emerged in different styles and form per the different societies and differences in expression.

Words are magical. They have preserved records of civilizations. They express desires and dreams and thoughts. But why write at all? What was or is the motive for writing? People write for different reasons. Some write because they have something to say; something to share with others, to inform. Others write to share their feelings.

George Orwell claimed there are four main reasons why people write as depicted below:

·         Sheer Egoism: According to this concept, people write because they want to be talked about; they want to reveal their cleverness. People who are motivated by sheer egoism desire to be counted among the top crust of humanity such as scientists, artists, politicians, lawyers and successful businessmen who are always putting their thoughts in print.

Communication is one of the main objectives that an organization needs to have in place to stay efficient and productive. A breakdown in accurate and efficient communication between departments at any point in the organization can result in conflict or loss of business.  Sadly, the efficiency between different departments in an organization becomes most evident when communication breaks down. As an example, David Grossman reported in “The Cost of Poor Communications” that a survey of 400 companies with 100,000 employees each cited an average loss per company of $62.4 million per year because of inadequate communication to and between employees.

With the dawning of the big-data era and the global competition that Machine Learning algorithms has sparked, it’s more vital than ever for companies of all sizes to prioritize departmental communication mishaps. Perhaps, today, as a result of the many emerging markets, the most essential of these connections are between IT and the business units. CMO’s and CIO’s are becoming natural partners in the sense that CMO’s, in order to capture revenue opportunities, are expected to master not just the art of strategy and creativity but also the science of analytics. The CIO, on the other hand, is accountable for using technical groundwork to enable and accelerate revenue growth. Since business and technology people speak very different languages, there’s a need on both sides to start sharing the vocabulary or understanding of what is expected in order to avoid gridlock.

In the McKinsey article, Getting the CMO and CIO to work as partners, the author speaks to five prerequisite steps that the CMO and the CIO can take in order to be successful in their new roles.

--- Be clear on decision governance
Teams should define when decisions are needed, what must be decided, and who is responsible for making them.

I remember the day like it was yesterday. Pac Man had finally arrived on the Atari 2600.  It was a clear and sunny day, but it was slightly brisk. My dad drove us down to the video store about three miles from our Michigan house. If I remember correctly, the price for the game was $24.99.  It was quite expensive for the day, probably equaling a $70 game in today’s market, but it was mine. There *was* no question about it. If you purchase a game, it’s your game… right?

You couldn’t be more wrong.  With all the licensing agreements in games today, you only purchase the right to play it. You don’t actually “own” the game. 

Today, game designers want total control over the money that comes in for a game. They add in clauses that keep the game from being resold, rented, borrowed, copied, etc. All of the content in the game, including the items you find that are specifically for you, are owned by the software developer. Why, you ask, do they do this? It’s all about the money.

This need for greed started years ago, when people started modifying current games on the market. One of the first games like this was Doom. There were so many third part mods made, but because of licensing agreement, none of these versions were available for resale. The end user, or you, had to purchase Doom before they could even install the mod.  None of these “modders” were allowed to make any money off their creation.