Which Materials Make The Most Durable Vim Wrench Models?

Totally hit this snag before — you open a file in vim, make your edits, and then bam: permission denied when you try to save. The neat little trick I use most often is this one-liner from inside vim: :w !sudo tee % >/dev/null What that does is write the buffer to the sudoed 'tee' command, which will overwrite the original file as root. The % expands to the current filename, so the full flow is: vim hands the file contents to sudo tee, tee writes it with elevated rights, and the >/dev/null part hides the tee output so your buffer stays as-is. After that you can do :q to quit. I like this because it’s fast and doesn’t require reopening the file as root. If you want a slightly cleaner approach, consider using sudoedit (sudo -e) to open files with your preferred editor as a temporary safe copy — it edits a temp file and then installs it as root, which is safer from a security perspective. For convenience I sometimes create a vim command or mapping, like cnoremap W!! w !sudo tee % >/dev/null, so typing :W!! saves without fuss. Also, if you frequently need root saves, the plugin 'sudo.vim' (provides commands like :SudoWrite) is worth installing. Each method has trade-offs: the tee trick is quick, sudoedit is safer, and opening vim with sudo from the start (sudo vim file) works but bypasses some safety models.

Honestly, I treat my tools a little like prized comics on a shelf — I handle them, clean them, and protect them so they last. When it comes to a vim wrench, the simplest habit is the most powerful: wipe it down after every use. I keep a small stash of lint-free rags and a bottle of light machine oil next to my bench. After I finish a job I wipe off grit and sweat, spray a little solvent if there’s grime, dry it, then apply a thin coat of oil with a rag so there’s no wet residue to attract rust. For bits of surface rust that sneak in, I’ll use fine steel wool or a brass brush to take it off, then neutralize any remaining rust with a vinegar soak followed by a baking soda rinse if I’ve used acid. For long-term protection I like wax — a microcrystalline wax like Renaissance or even paste car wax gives a water-repellent layer that’s pleasantly invisible. If the wrench has moving parts, I disassemble and grease joints lightly and check for play. Storage matters almost as much as treatment: a dry toolbox with silica gel packets, not left in a damp car or basement, keeps rust away. Little routines add up — a five-minute wipe and oil once a month will make that wrench feel like new for years.

If you're running MacVim (the mvim command) on macOS, the simplest, most reliable route for me has been vim-plug. It just feels clean: drop a tiny bootstrap file into ~/.vim/autoload, add a few lines to ~/.vimrc, then let the plugin manager handle the rest. For vim-plug I run: curl -fLo ~/.vim/autoload/plug.vim --create-dirs https://raw.githubusercontent.com/junegunn/vim-plug/master/plug.vim. After that I edit ~/.vimrc and add: call plug#begin('~/.vim/plugged') Plug 'tpope/vim-sensible' Plug 'junegunn/fzf', { 'do': { -> fzf#install() } } call plug#end() Then I launch MacVim with mvim and run :PlugInstall (or from the shell mvim +PlugInstall +qall) and watch the plugins clone and install. A few handy things: if a plugin needs build steps, check its README; some require ctags, ripgrep, or Python support. Also remember MacVim reads your ~/.vimrc (and you can put GUI tweaks in ~/.gvimrc). If you prefer built-in package management, the pack/start method works too: mkdir -p ~/.vim/pack/vendor/start && git clone ~/.vim/pack/vendor/start/, then restart mvim.

Okay, here’s the short version first, but then I’ll expand — I love geeking out about editor choices. For plugins, Neovim is the one that pushed the ecosystem forward: it brought a clean RPC-based plugin model, first-class async job handling, and a modern Lua API that plugin authors love. That means a lot of recent plugins are written in Lua or expect Neovim-only features like virtual text, floating windows, and extmarks. The result is snappier, more feature-rich plugins that can do things without blocking the UI. If you use 'm vim' (think classic Vim or MacVim builds), you still get a massive, mature plugin ecosystem. Many plugin authors keep compatibility with Vim, and core functionality works fine — but some newer plugins either require extra patches, rely on Vim being compiled with specific features (job control, Python/Ruby/Node support), or are Neovim-only because they use the Lua or RPC APIs. Practically, that means your favorite long-lived plugins like statuslines, file explorers, and linters usually work on either, but cutting-edge integrations (native LSP clients, modern completion engines written in Lua) will feel more at home in Neovim. My take: if you want modern plugins, async performance, and future-facing features, Neovim wins. If you prefer a familiar Vim experience, GUI comforts on macOS, or rely on plugins that haven’t migrated, 'm vim' still serves well. I ended up switching because I wanted Lua-based configs and non-blocking LSP, but I still keep a light Vim profile around for quick GUI sessions.

Oh wow, trimming 'mvim' startup is one of those tiny joys that makes the whole day smoother. I usually start by profiling so I know what's actually slow: run mvim --startuptime ~/vim-startup.log and open that log. It quickly shows which scripts or plugins dominate time. Once I know the culprits, I move heavy things into autoload or optional plugin folders so they only load when needed. Next, I use lazy-loading with a plugin manager like 'vim-plug' (Plug 'foo', { 'on': 'SomeCommand' } or 'for': ['python', 'javascript']). Put plugins you need immediately in 'start' and everything else in 'opt' or load by filetype. Also disable unnecessary providers (let g:loaded_python_provider = 0, let g:loaded_ruby_provider = 0) if you don't use them — that shave off seconds. Finally, keep UI tweaks minimal for GUI start: font fallback, complex statuslines and external helpers (like large LSPs) can wait until you open a project. After a few iterations of profile → defer → test, 'mvim' feels snappy and more pleasant to use.

Oh, this one used to confuse me too — Vim's mark system is a little quirky if you come from editors with numbered bookmarks. The short practical rule I use now: the m command only accepts letters. So m followed by a lowercase letter (ma, mb...) sets a local mark in the current file; uppercase letters (mA, mB...) set marks that can point to other files too. Digits and the special single-character marks (like '.', '^', '"', '[', ']', '<', '>') are not something you can create with m. Those numeric marks ('0 through '9) and the special marks are managed by Vim itself — they record jumps, last change, insert position, visual selection bounds, etc. You can jump to them with ' or ` but you can't set them manually with m. If you want to inspect what's set, :marks is your friend; :delmarks removes marks. I often keep a tiny cheat sheet pasted on my wall: use lowercase for local spots, uppercase for file-spanning marks, and let Vim manage the numbered/special ones — they’re there for navigation history and edits, not manual bookmarking.

Huh — that name caught me off guard, but in the best way. I’m not spotting a widely known franchise called 'Vim Hempstead', so I’m guessing there might be a small typo or a niche indie series you’ve come across. Either way, I love these little mysteries, so I’ll walk through how I’d pick the characters that really define a ‘most famous’ series and give concrete examples from familiar titles so you can see the pattern. If you actually meant a specific book or comic, drop the exact title and I’ll map the characters precisely. When fans say a series is defined by its characters, they usually mean a handful of roles that keep showing up: the stubborn, morally complex protagonist; the charismatic foil or rival; a mentor who shows the world’s rules; an antagonist who forces growth; and a small ensemble of friends who bring heart and humor. For instance, if we think of 'Mistborn', the defining pieces are Vin (the reluctant protagonist whose street-smarts and growth carry the arc), Kelsier (the larger-than-life mentor/rebel who shapes Vin’s worldview), Elend (the idealistic foil and eventual partner), the Lord Ruler (the pressing, mythic antagonist), and Sazed (the philosophic friend/keeper of wisdom). Swap in 'The Witcher' and you’ve got Geralt as the central, gruff moralist; Yennefer and Ciri as the catalytic figures who stretch his loyalties and purpose; and foes like the Wild Hunt or political conspirators who turn the scale. The pattern is consistent: one driving viewpoint character, one or two characters who challenge or complement them emotionally, a wise older figure or ideological counterpoint, and antagonists who test everything. If you want a checklist to identify the defining characters of a series you’re curious about, here’s something I actually use when I’m arguing with friends in forums: (1) Who the fans talk about most — that’s your protagonist; (2) Who changes the protagonist’s trajectory the most — that’s your catalyst or mentor; (3) Who embodies the series’ themes — often a secondary lead or antagonist; (4) Who provides emotional or comedic ballast — a friend or ensemble member; and (5) Who’s responsible for the central conflict — the antagonist or system. So, if your 'Vim Hempstead' reference points to a lesser-known indie series, run through that checklist and you’ll likely land on the five or six names that define it. If you were aiming at a specific series like 'Mistborn' or 'The Witcher' (or even something wildly different), tell me and I’ll list the core characters and why each one is essential — I get a kick out of these character dissections and swapping hot takes over coffee or late-night forum scrolls.

Man, that frustration is so real — I’ve been there. First thing I do is check whether vim even thinks it should indent: open the file and run :set filetype? and :verbose set autoindent. If filetype is empty or wrong, indent scripts won’t run. If :verbose shows autoindent being turned off by some script, that points to the culprit. Next, consider obvious toggles that silently kill indentation: if you’ve got 'set paste' enabled (or you toggled paste mode earlier with a mapping), indentation won’t behave. Also check whether you disabled 'autoindent', 'smartindent', or 'cindent' by mistake. Use :set paste? and :set autoindent? to inspect current state. If those look fine, source your vimrc manually (:source ~/.vimrc) and watch :messages for errors — a syntax error early in the file can stop the rest of the config from loading, so later indent settings never get applied. Also run vim -u NONE (or nvim -u NORC) to see if a vanilla session indents correctly; if it does, a plugin or a line in your vimrc is to blame. Useful commands: :scriptnames (shows loaded scripts), :verbose set shiftwidth? tabstop? expandtab? and checking ~/.vim/indent or plugin ftplugin files for overrides. If you want, paste the problematic snippet and I’ll poke at it with you.