The Codeless Code: Case 132 Interpreter 
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 Being snowed in together through the winter months will
strain even the closest of friendships; Yíwen and Hwídah
were no exception to this rule.

Hwídah was irritated enough when her lanky roommate began
dancing silently around their quarters, swinging her arms
and legs within inches of Hwídah’s nose. But Hwídah’s
patience came to an end one day when Yíwen set up an
electric guzheng* in the center of the room and began
playing it—or rather, began plucking its strings inexpertly
to produce a series of dissonant, tuneless, tempoless
sounds. The interlude lasted a minute, after which Yíwen sat
down and scribbled on some papers. But then she rose and
repeated the performance.

After the tenth iteration, Hwídah hurled a sandal right into
Yíwen’s backside, causing the girl to yelp and turn around.

“What,” growled Hwídah, “are you doing?”

Some of Yíwen’s papers fluttered to the floor. Hwídah
snatched them up. They were printouts of quicksort
implemented in different languages: C, Lisp, Perl, even
Prolog. Each was covered with musical notations in red ink.

“A thousand pardons for my rudeness,” said Yíwen. “I have
been attempting to encode certain algorithms as movements
through space, or notes in the air. If the result is not
pleasing I change my encoding and try again.”

“Why?” asked Hwídah.

“To see what I will discover by doing it,” answered Yíwen.
“We speak often of the beauty or elegance of code. Perhaps,
without knowing it, we have been composing choreographies
for information to dance to, and we find certain ones
pleasing because they appeal to some deeper aesthetic sense
common to other forms of human art. If so, then these arts
would be connected. I seek that connection.”

Hwídah considered this.

“Thus far, the music of quicksort eludes me,” continued
Yíwen with a sigh. “Perhaps my experiment is as foolish as
translating songs into code and attempting to compile it.
Perhaps the music of quicksort is best played by machines
for their own appreciation, and not ours. Shall I quit this
endeavor, and spare your nerves?”

In answer, Hwídah produced two bits of cotton from her
nightstand and put them in her ears. Yíwen bowed and
returned to her instrument. Thus was peace restored.

* I imagine they sound something like this.
