A retro-appearing manicule points the way to the new entrance to King’s Cross station. (Photo by author.)
I visited London this weekend, continuing my niche campaign to explore the world of computer-to-Monotype interfaces. (If none of this makes any sense, take a look at my earlier post about the last working Monotype caster in Scotland.) Having seen Harry McIntosh’s system first-hand in Edinburgh, this time round I prevailed upon Phil Abel and Nick Gill of London’s Hand & Eye Letterpress to show me the system installed at their own workshop, of which much more in a future post.
On the way to catch the train home, I came across the billboard-sized manicule shown above, pointing the way to the new entrance at King’s Cross; this centuries-old mark is clearly in rude health. Not only that, but this larger than-life example takes a very clear (and quite correct) stand with regards to the King(’)s Cross apostrophe controversy: for now at least, the possessive apostrophe is in the ascendant.
Now, though, on with the show ☞
6 Comments
That NYT article is hopelessly confused and silly. It completely conflates the ESC code with the ESC key, and mixes up the standardization of the code back in 1963 with the creation of the key. I don’t know when programs started to use ESC to mean “escape the current program”, but certainly well into the PC era. In the TECO editor, which dates back to the early 1960s, the ESC code (triggered by the ESC key, or as it was then called, the ALTMODE key) indicated the end of a string; doubled, it meant “go ahead and execute this sequence of commands”.
Hi John,
I think the article’s confusion of an abstract code with its physical manifestation is probably forgiveable, no? I’m intrigued by the article’s suggestion that the code (or the key — see what I mean?) was originally used “as way for programmers to switch from one kind of code to another” — do you have any more detail on this use of the code? As a one-time programmer, I’d interested to hear exactly what is meant by that.
Thanks for the comment!
In my not-entirely-misspent youth, I used the Teco editor (DEC’s adaptation, not the MIT version that served as the initial implementation language for Emacs). The gentleman who was kind enough to teach me had the endearing habit of verbalizing the ESC key as “dildo.” Thus, as noted by John Cowan, the end of any command string would be “double dildo.” All well and good in the (mostly) male confines of the lab, but rather embarrassing when moving to a more conventional office setting.
Hi Bob,
Well, that’s one alias for ‘escape’ I hadn’t previously heard about…! Why on earth did he call it that?
Thanks for the comment!
it precedes DOS by a long way. It is part of standard ACII from mid 60′s — which means it was used before that. If remember right it was on the teletype keyboard, and tape punch — if not it came it with the (CRT) terminal.
Dildo perhaps he was thinking of Tilde?
Perhaps! Certainly, the tilde is immediately below the ESC key on US-International keyboards, if not others.
Thanks for the comment!