Скачать или смотреть Why Hardware and Software Are the Same Thing

The room hums like a held breath. In the glow of indicator lights, a digital computer waits, a patient clerk who never sleeps, a factory line with no hands, a stagehand that knows every cue by heart. Give it a set of instructions and it will work for you with a devotion that borders on eerie. Those instructions, arranged as a sequence, are a program, and down in the wire and silicon the only things that truly matter are small, stubborn acts. Add two numbers. Check if a value is zero. Copy this bit of memory over there. The primitives are tiny, the way stair steps are tiny, but a million steps will still carry you up a mountain.

That bottom dialect, the one the circuits conduct like a minimalist symphony, is machine language. Engineers decide which notes exist in that symphony. Fewer notes make cheaper instruments, so the base instruction set stays austere. This austerity creates a gap between what people want to say and what machines can hear. People want to say, model the climate, train a language model, settle a stock trade in less than a heartbeat. The machine replies, I can add, compare, and move bytes. Somewhere in that gap lives computer science, with its ladder of abstractions and its ceaseless effort to translate human intention into electronic action.