Learning Objective-C will change you. The way Java changed you seemed to feel good. The way Objective-C is changing you is different.
Perhaps the best way to explain the feeling is to quote a line from the 1986 movie remake The Fly where a painfully-transformed Seth Brundle (played by Jeff Goldblum) says: “I was an insect who dreamt he was a man … and loved it. But now the dream is over, and the insect is awake.”
Of course you’re just being picky. There are many nice things about Objective-C, like messaging and descriptive method-naming. Very good stuff. In the end, syntax is really just syntax, and there’s always something uglier out there (Perl). But when you’ve been conditioned, no, spoiled for so long by the elegance of Java, it’s hard to turn around and go back to school, to worry about things like garbage collection again.
Despite all that, you’re making some handy new applications, due for release any second now, and set to be featured on a brand new site you’re working on, also due for release any second now. You could say that those two events will occur simultaneously, if you wanted to.
He’s doing a great job, working on finishing-up the garbage, the tedious parts, the left-overs. This is the dirty work, and, perversely, he’s into it. Dumpster diving. Scraping the mayo out of empty jars. Sucking the marrow from the chicken bones. He’s nipping at these sinewy bits of grisly bone as if they were delecacies, displaying the kind of vigor and enthusiasm exibited mainly by sniveling, half-mad, stray dogs taken in and out of the cold during winter.
When these last bits are completed and The Kid Henry emerges (shivering, grease-covered, stinking like cabbage) from the dumpster, Postmaster will be, at long last, done.