About

As you might have noticed on the 'landing page,' I described myself as a generalist, not a specialist—and that's probably true. I don't have a narrow, polished specialization at the level of a Berkeley graduate or a CERN employee. But I do have something that often unites people with similar interests: a persistent desire to know and be able to do more than I know and can do now.

I haven't become a deep expert in systems programming, discovered a new field of mathematics, or had a catalog of H-II regions of a galaxy named after me. Nevertheless, all these topics—and many others—are genuinely interesting to me, and even if not always at a profoundly deep level, I still understand the mechanisms and reasons behind what happens in various fields of human activity.

This kind of knowledge—more in breadth than in depth—provides one truly valuable thing: interdisciplinary understanding. Like in elegant fractals, over time you begin to notice the self-similarity of sciences within each other. Biology and ecology unexpectedly emerge in political science and economics, computer science turns out to be closely linked with sociology and marketing, and mathematics appears as a recurring theme, likely starting long before the smallest scales and not ending at the largest structures of the Universe.

And overall, it's just a more interesting way to live—each new piece of information adds more colors and details to the picture of the world.

The classic definition of the opposite of entropy—syntropy—has long been taken: by companies, various bloggers, Twitter users, startups, and everyone else. And in general, the word is already too widely used in many different contexts.

But Synthropy is a compound word I came up with myself.

It can be read simultaneously as:

• Synth- — something synthetic, not found in nature and created by humans.
• -ropy — an ending that refers to both entropy and syntropy.

Thus, the name encapsulates the spirit of this site: observing interactions, structures, destruction and creation, and processes in our Universe—in Reality, call it what you will.

In this sense, Synthropy can be read as both synthetic entropy—which resonates well with the chaotic, turbulent 2010s and 2020s of the 21st century—and as synthetic syntropy: the constant human process of creating structures out of chaos.

Even writing this text is an example of such a process: from the noise of neurons in the head, a small structure is formed, which then fixes bits in the computer's memory in an ordered form.

As a phrase from the game Portal was once jokingly altered:

I do what I must, because I can.

I've been learning to program for a while now—finally! I regret not starting sooner, but back then I was too foolish to fully see and understand the beauty and fundamental nature of this skill.

Fundamental not in the 'learn to code for money' sense, but in a more basic one: zeros and ones are probably one of the few forms of communication that could potentially work even in contact with an extraterrestrial civilization. It's unlikely that human languages would be effective, for example, when communicating with an intelligent biofilm. Although, who knows...

In any case, while learning to program, I wanted to be inside this environment, this community, not just a theoretical observer. This requires practical skills and a sense of direction. That's how this blog came to be—written in Django, using experience from my unfinished but developmentally useful Rails projects.

To be honest, programming has always been my unresolved 'gestalt.' Even as a kid, I tried tinkering with the computer, and in school, I was fascinated by computer science classes, or more accurately—by the technologies of freedom, the vast, interesting world of computers and the internet.

Unfortunately, our paths diverged for many years from that moment, partially intersecting at university in an unrelated major, and after some more years, the interest turned into action—and here we are.

Writing on platforms is an option—and it's indeed convenient.

You have a ready-made infrastructure: authentication, users, no need to worry about the database, no need to delve into the intricacies of frameworks and figure out how their creators thought.

But you always depend on:

• other people's engineers
• other people's decisions
• other people's moderation

I got tired of constantly wondering if a certain thought would lead to a ban. And I'm capable of saying such things—and have been banned for them before.

Plus, the appearance. Your own design is your own design. I paint my site as I see fit.

In the top left corner, there's not just the site's name, but also a logo: a hand-drawn Ouroboros.

It's an ancient and very simple symbol. In my case, without esotericism or mysticism. Just the idea of the connection between beginning and end, self-consumption and infinity, which fits well with concepts of chaos, entropy, mathematics, and cosmology.

In a way, it's also a reference to the cyclic universe hypothesis: a state of minimum entropy → maximum → minimum again. And so on—forever.

And the question 'why does anything exist?' itself begins to resemble an Ouroboros over time: a part of the Universe in the form of a specific individual asks itself the question—'what am I?'

Why this particular color?

When designing the layout, I used colored blocks for prototyping—it's easier to see the structure and boundaries of elements. The colors were chosen randomly using the built-in picker in VS Code: there was contrast with adjacent DOM elements—and that was enough.

That's how the logo's color came to be—pure chance. Micro-movements of muscles and the cursor led to this acrid yellow-green hue.

And when it came time to change something, I thought: why, if it's already good?

Why does the site have the Russian language in its blogs and interface, but it's named so strangely?

It's because the word 'Russian' (русский) has ceased to be neutral in the modern world. Today, it is increasingly used as an 'us vs. them' marker in a deeply polarized reality experiencing new turbulent times.

For me, 'Russian' has become synonymous with all the filth that has been happening since 2014 and finally crystallized into an absolute, unlimited form of an Enemy in 2022. My family, my life have been truly trampled by a revanchist 'Russian idea,' created for the benefit of a narrow group of people willing to commit any crime for their base desires.

However, as I grew up in a Russian-speaking environment, I am fluent in this language, if not perfectly, then certainly at a high enough level.

The Russian language is convenient for me as a tool for thinking, consuming, and creating, so I kept the language on the site but tried to at least partially cleanse it of the monstrous form it has today.

Initially, I planned to use the name 'Ruthenian' (Рутенский), emphasizing continuity from one of the ancient Slavic languages that influenced modern Russian. However, that language still exists today and is significantly different, so such a designation would only be misleading—and simply, most people I showed it to didn't understand what I was talking about.

Since the abbreviation for 'Russian language' is commonly 'ru' or 'ру', I decided that 'Ru-lang' (Ру-язык) is a perfectly accurate and recognizable option. It combines both 'Ru' and 'Yazyk' (Language).

Magical thinking, tilting at windmills? Perhaps.

But I would like to be writing these lines in my hometown—free, unoccupied, and part of a lawful, democratic state.

But, we have what we have.

Let me make one thing clear from the start:
All posts on this site are written by me.
There are NO texts by other authors here, and there NEVER WILL BE.

Above the title of each post -- both in the post card and in the post itself -- there is a small label with one of three designations:

Original -- the text was first written in this exact language.

Adaptation -- an authorial reworking of the original text into another language, preserving the meaning while allowing for changes in wording, emphasis, and delivery.

Translation -- a translation of the source text into another language, preserving its structure and content, sometimes with small adjustments for more natural phrasing.

These labels show which language the post was originally created in and in what form the current version is presented.