PHP Child
A page feels like a document sitting on a shelf, waiting to be picked up. Almost none of them are. Most are built to order, in the moment you ask for them, by a machine you will ne
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A page feels like a document sitting on a shelf, waiting to be picked up. Almost none of them are. Most are built to order, in the moment you ask for them, by a machine you will never see.
Open a site and something arrives almost immediately. The speed makes it feel like a file was simply handed over, the way a book is handed across a counter. Occasionally that is true. Far more often the page did not exist a second earlier. Your request travelled to a machine, that machine worked out who you might be, gathered the pieces it needed, arranged them into a finished page, and sent the result back. Then it forgot the whole episode and moved on to the next visitor. The page you are reading is the residue of a short burst of work that has already ended.
This is the split that gives our name its joke, and we will only make it once: a child element sits inside a parent, and the work described here sits inside the work you can see. Everything on this site concerns the inside half. Not the marks that describe a document, not the rules that colour it, not the behaviour that runs once it has landed in front of you. Our subject is the interval before any of that: what a machine does with your request while you are still waiting.
The single most useful line to draw when you are learning is the one between work done at the source and work done at the destination.
From arrival to reply is a small, complete story that repeats endlessly.
Statelessness sounds like a defect until you consider the alternative.