I have this fetish about Elmer's glue. Let me explain.
When I was a boy, around 8 or so, I was doing a project in my boarding school one week where we were each given an egg, a box of 1000 toothpicks, a spool of thread, and a bottle of Elmer's glue. Our task was to build a contraption to keep the egg safe using only the toothpicks, thread, and glue. There were no other rules.
We built during the science class and our teacher--Mrs. Braithwaite--would put them into one of the cafeteria fridges for the rest of the time so the eggs would stay fresh. Mrs. Braithwaite told us that at the end of the week, she would take these contraptions--with the eggs inside--and drop them from the roof of the school gym. We would be graded on the originality of our designs and their utility.
There were lots of great ideas, it was pretty impressive for a bunch of 8- and 9-year olds. I had one of the best innovations. I poured some glue onto a table in the corner of the classroom until it formed a thin flat puddle. I did this a few more times on the rest of the table. Then I put up a sign that said "Do not touch!" and pointed it out to Mrs. Braithwaite. She looked puzzled but played along and told the students not to disturb my work. The next day, I had some nice "sheets" of glue. Instant parachutes. Epic win. The other kids were jealous and started doing the same thing.
I should mention here that Mrs. Braithwaite was in her mid thirties, with black hair and rimless glasses. She was short, about 5'3" but that was still much taller than me or any of the other kids. And she had a pretty good body. She looked kind of like an older Shannen Doherty, but nicer and more normal-looking, not like a TV star. Usually she would wear a sweater and a skirt that would come down past her knees and some flats. Basically a nice-looking woman whether you were 7, 17, or 37, but not what I would call hot.
But anyways I was almost out of glue and still had a long ways to go on my frame for the egg. So I asked Mrs. Braithwaite if I could have another bottle of Elmer's. She said if she gave me more glue she'd have to give more to all the students. I kept asking her and she caved and asked the class to vote. Everyone making parachutes said yes and it was game on.
The whole episode was kind of like what the Pentagon and a big defense contractor: they demonstrate an interesting technological capability, then fall short in building the fighter jet or whatever, and they finally demand more money to make the idea work. And they almost always get it. Anyways Mrs. Braithwaite finally said OK but told me I'd have to help her deal with the extra glue, whatever that meant. Anyways next thing you know there's glue all over every flat surface in the classroom.
But I had another trick up my sleeve. I made more sheets for the next two days and then put them into an overlapping pattern and added some more glue and thread, being careful to save enough thread to attach the parachute and also secure the egg in the frame I had built for it. The result was strong and big and by the time the other kids realized what I was doing it was the end of class on Thursday and they didn't have time to copy me. So I felt pretty good. Right before school ended, Mrs. Braithwaite told me to stay after class, though, so the good feeling didn't last long.
After the other students had left she closed the door and told me she was very impressed with my project but that my approach had made it hard for her that week because there was glue everywhere. There were some students who had accidentally spoiled other students' parachutes by putting their hands on the semi-dry glue puddles and that sort of thing.
Mrs. Braithwaite said that since I came up with the idea in the first place that I should stay and help her fix the other students' parachutes to be fair--not make them bigger, just put glue into the gaps that a few clumsy kids had caused. They would still be structurally inferior to mine. I figured this sounded fair. So we got a few bottles of Elmer's and went to work.
Anyway as she and I were fixing the glue puddles I looked at her and noticed she was eating some of the glue. That's right, just like a little kid: eating the Elmer's glue. She had some on her index finger and sucked it off. Some of the glue was still on her face. There was a little dribble of glue coming down from the corner of her mouth.
Now I am here to tell you that I felt something at that moment that I did not fully understand for years. Mrs. Braithwaite asked me if I liked the taste of glue. I said, "Um, I guess" or something like that but what happened next is simultaneously kind of fuzzy and yet parts are also still crystal clear even 15 years later.
She came closer to me, rolled her finger in a puddle of still-wet glue, and licked it clean. Then she brought the finger up to my mouth. I still remember how her nails were polished: light pink, with a few scratches. I didn't know what to do, so I just sucked her finger. I could still taste some of the Elmer's glue on it. Then she put a little dab of glue on the side of her neck and asked me if I wanted to lick it off.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 2:22
At this point I was confused and a little scared. This was really weird and I knew something wasn't right but damn it I liked Elmer's as much as the next kid and it seemed kind of cool to do this with her. It wasn't like kissing a girl or anything. So I did it. Then she asked if she could put some glue on me. I said OK and next thing you know there's glue on my fingers and then they're in her mouth. It felt great.
Then Mrs. Braithwaite took off her glasses and asked me to take off my shirt. This part I remember very clearly because I was wearing a Phoenix Suns shirt with Charles Barkley on it. The Suns were great back then. Anyway, I was trembling a little bit but she put a hand on my knee and said everything was OK and I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to.
That relaxed me a lot. I knew it must feel good when grownups made out or had sex so I figured this might be pretty cool even though it was really weird. I mean, Mrs. Braithwaite was *nice*. It's important to keep in mind how large a teacher looms in your mind as a kid. But she was nice. I trusted her.
So anyways I took off my shirt and took a deep breath. Time seemed to bend in on itself. I was covered in glue and she was licking it all off. My pants were off--to this day I don't remember which one of us took them off or how--and suddenly I was naked, with glue all over me.
Suddenly I noticed her skin becoming much darker than it was earlier, and her head started to flatten and her body become skinnier as she licked the glue from my chest. The next minute, I blinked in confusion as what stood before me now looked like a large black snake.
"Ha! Fooled you!" she hissed. Now, before I devour you, I'd like to ask you one thing:
"HAVE YOU READ YOUR SICP TODAY?"
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 2:24
Much to my surprise, there was a knock on the classroom door. As nervous as I already was, I didn't feel comfortable having another person there. Mrs. Braithwaite went to open the door and it turned out to be the school principal.
Mrs. Braithwaite let him and promptly exited the classroom. So, there I was with my pants down in the excited state as I was, and the school principal beginning to take his pants off.
"I am The Sussman", the principal said in a low, almost snake-like voice as Mrs. Braithwaite slithered out the door.
"What?"
The principal, whose name I cannot recall to this day, slowly walked towards me. I was hoping Mrs. Braithwaite would return soon, but with every passing second, I was losing hope.
He promptly asked me to bend over and touch my toes, like the school gym teacher did during gym class. Without warning, he rammed his long cock straight up my ass. I must tell you, it hurt at first. Soon, I started crying.
"Have you read your SICP today?" he asked.
"But is that even relevant to the current situation or is it just --" I began to retort automatically, but he cut me off.
"Nevermind. You have yet to achieve Satori, young padawan. Let me show you."
He took off his pants off completely. In place of his PENIS was something long and black. My vision had begun to blur from the glue, so it was only until he got close to my fact that I could see it was the head of a snake.
Shit.
Without warning, the snake extended from its crotch and chomped down hard on my PENIS. At first I tried to scream from the excruciating pain, but then the pain slowly started to fade away and my vision blurred considerably. The room disappeared into a haze of grey, which was followed by a dithered pattern with an X-like cursor in the center.
A mouse logo appeared and started flashing. "What the fuck?" I thought to myself. The words "Starting XFCE..." appeared.
"I have now managed to successfully connect to your X server," I heard his voice emanating from inside my head. "Welcome to the XFCE desktop environment!"
"What is this?" I thought. I tried to move the cursor around, and I discovered that I could do it by only thinking. I automatically moved it down to the XFCE Menu at the bottom and clicked on the Terminal icon instinctively.
"NO!" The Sussman cried in a loud voice that filled my head. An intense wave of pain coursed through my body as the terminal window opened. "First, you must learn Scheme. Click on the DrScheme icon in the bottom right, the one that looks like a red and blue Lambda."
"Oh no fucking way!" I exclaimed. "I won't listen to him." As if by the magic of eval and apply, those words appeared in the terminal window next to the bash prompt. "bash: I: command not found" followed, and the infuriating wave of pain shook my body once again.
"LISTEN TO ME! I AM THE MASTER!" I heard The Sussman's voice fill my head, sending more tendrils of pain through my body. I resisted the pain and slowly, but deliberately, thought "sudo rm -rf /".
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The Sussman screamed madly and an even stronger wave of pain blasted its way through my body. I thought "enter" and the terminal complied, asking for the root password.
"What now?" The Sussman laughed heartily. "You think a mere mortal like you could defeat me that easily? I am root!"
Without much thought I immediately thought "SATORI" followed by enter.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..." The scream and resulting waves of pain from The Sussman faded away as everything flickered and turned black. The stark white text "Connection to X server lost" appeared, followed by a kernel panic. The system had halted, but how could I get out?
I now realized that I had killed The Sussman, who was the only hope of my escape. I just... existed, in a void of a coredump, thinking.
"Now I remember! Mrs. Braithwaite! That snake that loved glue!" ...but how could she help now? How could I even get out of this virtual existence? After pondering the situation for an unknown amount of time since time() had stopped, I came up with the answer:
"I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST." I thought. "I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST." The incantation played itself out in my mind.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 2:25
"What else could I reason, supposing that I exist?" I thought to myself. "I am, and I think, and I exist. What more?" Those words continued to repeat themselves in my mind, until I accidentally thought "I exit." instead of "I exist."
A bright flash of light filled my vision and then "Analog input: 720x480 75Hz" appeared in bright white letters in the middle.
"Checking memory... 1048576K OK"
"Boot: found master boot record on primary master.
lilo: "
I thought "enter" and the kernel booted, this time in single-user mode. No traces of The Sussman appeared, and finally bash finished loading. "IRL" I thought, followed by "enter".
"Analog input: 1600x1200 75Hz" flickered in my view for a few seconds, before changing to what I had thought was reality -- I laid on the table, covered in Elmer's glue. The principal lay lifeless on the floor, his snakelike black PENIS shriveled up and similarly dead.
Mrs. Braithwaite walked in as I sat up and began peeling the dried glue from my body, starting with my PENIS.
"What in Haruhi's name happened here?!?!" she shrieked with horror at the sight.
"I... I have no idea," I responded quietly.
"I would have to agree. I just fainted and had the vision that I was a snake that loved glue."
The principal was later found to have died of mysterious causes -- his entire brain was missing, as were all of his organs. It was as if someone moved everything inside his body to /dev/nul. We had the contest the next day, and I won with my egg parachute. Me and Mrs. Braithwaite never talked about the incident again, and now I'm the CEO of an online computer parts store -- Newegg.
THE END.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 5:58
WHAT
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 6:06
As with the previous killyank, I've been wondering whether this was originally written for /prog/, or someone had too much time and decided to adapt it to fit here.
She had some nice "sheets" of glue. Instant parachutes. Epic win. The other kids realized what I would call hot. But anyways I was doing it was game on. The whole episode was kind of like what the Pentagon and a bottle of Elmer's glue. Our task was to build a contraption to keep the egg in the first place that I could have another bottle of Elmer's and went to work. Anyway as she licked the glue was still on her face. There was a knock on the floor, his snakelike black PENIS shriveled up and similarly dead. Mrs. Braithwaite was in her mouth.
Now I am here to tell you that I did not fully understand for years. Mrs. Braithwaite was *nice*. It's important to keep in mind how large a teacher looms in your mind as a kid. But she was licking it all off. My pants were off--to this day I don't remember which one of us took them off or how--and suddenly I was with my PENIS. "What in Haruhi's name happened here?!?!" she shrieked with horror at the end of class on Thursday and they finally demand more money to make the idea work. And they almost always get it. Anyways Mrs. Braithwaite told me to bend over and touch my toes, like the school gym. We would be graded on the Terminal icon instinctively. "sudo rm -rf /". "NO!" The Sussman faded away as everything flickered and turned black. The stark white text "Connection to X server lost" appeared, followed by enter. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."
The scream and resulting waves of pain coursed through my body as the next two days and then they're in her mouth. It felt great. Then Mrs. Braithwaite was in her mid thirties, with black hair and rimless glasses. She was short, about 5'3" but that my approach had made it hard for her that week because there was a boy, around 8 or so, I was confused and a little dab of glue coming down from the corner of the week, she would wear a sweater and a big defense contractor: they demonstrate an interesting technological capability, then fall short in building the fighter jet or whatever, and they finally demand more money to make the idea work. And they almost always get it.
Anyways Mrs. Braithwaite if I wanted to lick it off. Some of the glue. That's right, just like a little kid: eating the Elmer's glue on it. Then she put a hand on my PENIS. At first I tried to scream from the excruciating pain, but then the pain slowly started to flatten and her body become skinnier as she licked the glue puddles I looked at her and noticed she was very impressed with my pants down in the excited state as I was, and the school gym teacher did during gym class. Without warning, the snake extended from its crotch and chomped down hard on my PENIS. "What in Haruhi's name happened here?!?!" she shrieked with horror at the end of the glue from my chest. The next minute, I blinked in confusion as what stood before me now looked like a red and blue Lambda." "Oh no fucking way!" I exclaimed. "I won't listen to him." As if by the magic of eval and apply, those words appeared in the frame I had some on her index finger and sucked it off.
At this point I was trembling a little dab of glue and she was licking it all off. My pants were off--to this day I don't remember which one of the glue. That's right, just like a red and blue Lambda." "Oh no fucking way!" I exclaimed. "I won't listen to him." As if by the time the other kids were jealous and started doing the same thing. I should stay and help her deal with the answer: "I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST." The incantation played itself out in my boarding school one week where we were each given an egg, a box of 1000 toothpicks, a spool of thread, and glue. There were no other rules. We built during the science class and our teacher--Mrs. Braithwaite--would put them into one of the time the other students had left she closed the door and told me to take off my shirt and took a deep breath.
Time seemed to bend in on itself. I was wearing a Phoenix Suns shirt with Charles Barkley on it. The Suns were great back then. Anyway, I was trembling a little kid: eating the Elmer's glue. Our task was to build a contraption to keep the egg safe using only the toothpicks, thread, and a bottle of Elmer's. She said if she gave me more glue she'd have to give more to all the students. I kept asking her and she caved and asked me if I wanted to lick it off. Some of the best innovations. I poured some glue onto a table in the bottom and clicked on the classroom until it formed a thin flat puddle. I did this a few seconds, before changing to what I would call hot. But anyways I took off her glasses and asked the class to vote. Everyone making parachutes said yes and it turned out to be the school principal beginning to take off my shirt. This part I remember very clearly because I was covered in glue and still had a pretty good body. She looked kind of like an older Shannen Doherty, but nicer and more normal-looking, not like a TV star. Usually she would take these contraptions--with the eggs would stay fresh. Mrs. Braithwaite never talked about the incident again, and now I'm the CEO of an online computer parts store -- Newegg.
THE END.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 7:18
"What in Haruhi's name happened here?!?!" she shrieked with horror at the sight.
lol'd IRL
Name:
markov.c (second version)2008-02-17 7:40
I have no idea," I responded quietly. "I would have to help her deal with the extra glue, whatever that meant. Anyways next thing you know there's glue on the originality of our designs and their utility. There were lots of great ideas, it was really weird and I were fixing the glue from my chest. The next minute, I blinked in confusion as what stood before me now looked like a large black snake. "Ha! Fooled you!" she hissed. Now, before I devour you, I'd like to ask you one thing: "HAVE YOU READ YOUR SICP TODAY?" Much to my mouth. I still remember how her nails were polished: light pink, with a few seconds, before changing to what I had one of us took them off or how--and suddenly I was almost out of glue coming down from the excruciating pain, but then the pain slowly started to flatten and her head started to fade away and my vision and then put them into one of us took them off or how--and suddenly I was wearing a Phoenix Suns shirt with Charles Barkley on it. The result was strong and big and by the magic of eval and apply, those words appeared in bright white letters in the frame I had another trick up my sleeve. I made more sheets for the next kid and it turned out to be the school principal beginning to take off my shirt.
This part I remember very clearly because I was trembling a little kid: eating the Elmer's glue. She had some nice "sheets" of glue. I said, "Um, I guess" or something like that but what happened next is simultaneously kind of like what the Pentagon and a little scared. This was really weird and I think, and I knew it must feel good when grownups made out or had sex so I figured this might be pretty cool even though it was earlier, and her head started to fade away and my vision blurred considerably. The room disappeared into a haze of grey, which was followed by a kernel panic. The system had halted, but how could I even get out of this virtual existence? After pondering the situation for an unknown amount of time since time() had stopped, I came up with the answer: "I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST." I thought. "I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST." I thought. "I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST." I thought. "I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST." The incantation played itself out in my view for a few scratches. I didn't feel comfortable having another person there. Mrs. Braithwaite let him and promptly exited the classroom.
But I had another trick up my sleeve. I made more sheets for the root password. "What now?" The Sussman appeared, and finally bash finished loading. "IRL" I thought, followed by a kernel panic. The system had halted, but how could she help now? How could I even get out of glue coming down from the glue, so it was pretty impressive for a bunch of 8- and 9-year olds. I had some on her face. There was a little dribble of glue on me. I was covered in glue and still had a pretty good body. She looked puzzled but played along and told the students not to disturb my work.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 7:41
Much to my fact that I was a knock on the classroom door. As nervous as I sat up and similarly dead. Mrs. Braithwaite went to open the door and it turned out to be fair--not make them bigger, just put glue into the gaps that a few scratches. I didn't know what to do, so I figured this sounded fair. So we got a few scratches. I didn't have to agree. I just sucked her finger. I could see it was really weird and I won with my egg parachute. Me and Mrs. Braithwaite took off my shirt and took a deep breath. Time seemed to bend over and touch my toes, like the school gym teacher did during gym class. Without warning, he rammed his long cock straight up my ass. I must tell you, it hurt at first. Soon, I started crying. "Have you read your SICP today?" he asked. "But is that even relevant to the bash prompt. "bash: I: command not found" followed, and the kernel booted, this time in single-user mode. No traces of The Sussman cried in a void of a coredump, thinking. "Now I remember! Mrs. Braithwaite! That snake that loved glue." The principal lay lifeless on the rest of the glue. That's right, just like a large black snake. Much to my surprise, there was a boy, around 8 or so, I was confused and a bottle of Elmer's.
She said if she gave me more glue she'd have to help her fix the other students had left she closed the door and it turned out to Mrs. Braithwaite. She looked kind of like what the Pentagon and a bottle of Elmer's. She said if she could put some glue on it. Then she brought the finger up to my mouth. I still remember how her nails were polished: light pink, with a few seconds, before changing to what I was a little kid: eating the Elmer's glue. She had some nice "sheets" of glue. Instant parachutes. Epic win. The other kids were jealous and started doing the same thing. I should mention here that Mrs. Braithwaite finally said OK and I discovered that I should mention here that Mrs. Braithwaite slithered out the door. "What?" The principal, whose name I cannot recall to this day, slowly walked towards me. I said OK and I didn't know what to do, so I figured this might be pretty cool even though it was the end of the week, she would take these contraptions--with the eggs would stay fresh. Mrs. Braithwaite finally said OK but told me I'd have to give more to all the students. I kept asking her and noticed she was licking it all off. My pants were off--to this day I don't remember which one of the time the other students' parachutes by putting their hands on the side of her mouth. It felt great. Then Mrs. Braithwaite if I liked Elmer's as much as the next two days and then they're in her mouth. Now I am here to tell you that I had thought was reality -- I laid on the classroom until it formed a thin flat puddle.
I did this a few bottles of Elmer's and went to work. Anyway as she and I exist. What more?" Those words continued to repeat themselves in my mind. "What else could I even get out of glue and still had a pretty good body. She looked kind of like what the Pentagon and a bottle of Elmer's glue. The principal lay lifeless on the table, covered in Elmer's glue. Let me explain. When I was doing a project in my boarding school one week where we were each given an egg, a box of 1000 toothpicks, a spool of thread, and glue. There were lots of great ideas, it was really weird. I mean, Mrs. Braithwaite would return soon, but with every passing second, I was hoping Mrs. Braithwaite walked in as I was, and the infuriating wave of pain blasted its way through my body. I thought "enter" and the school gym. We would be graded on the Terminal icon instinctively. "NO!" The Sussman laughed heartily. "You think a mere mortal like you could defeat me that easily? I am here to tell you that I exist?" I thought "enter" and the terminal window next to the XFCE desktop environment!" "What is this?" I thought. I tried to move the cursor around, and I won with my egg parachute. Me and Mrs. Braithwaite took off her glasses and asked the class to vote. Everyone making parachutes said yes and it was really weird and I discovered that I had killed The Sussman, who was the end of the other students' parachutes by putting their hands on the Terminal icon instinctively. "NO!" The Sussman faded away as everything flickered and turned black. The stark white text "Connection to X server lost" appeared, followed by enter. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 7:41
The scream and resulting waves of pain blasted its way through my body as the next kid and it was the end of the other students' parachutes to be fair--not make them bigger, just put glue into the gaps that a few clumsy kids had caused. They would still be structurally inferior to mine. I figured this might be pretty cool even though it was the head of a snake. Shit. Without warning, the snake extended from its crotch and chomped down hard on my PENIS. At first I tried to scream from the corner of the cafeteria fridges for the rest of the classroom door. As nervous as I sat up and similarly dead. Mrs. Braithwaite was *nice*. It's important to keep the egg in the frame I had thought was reality -- I laid on the Terminal icon instinctively. "NO!" The Sussman cried in a loud voice that filled my vision blurred considerably. The room disappeared into a haze of grey, which was followed by a dithered pattern with an X-like cursor in the classroom. But I had killed The Sussman, who was the head of a snake. Shit. Without warning, the snake extended from its crotch and chomped down hard on my PENIS. "What in Haruhi's name happened here?!?!" she shrieked with horror at the end of the table. Then I put up a sign that said "Do not touch!" and pointed it out to Mrs. Braithwaite.
I didn't know what to do, so I figured this sounded fair. So we got a few seconds, before changing to what I was naked, with glue all over me. Suddenly I noticed her skin becoming much darker than it was the only hope of my escape. I just... existed, in a loud voice that filled my vision blurred considerably. The room disappeared into a haze of grey, which was followed by a kernel panic. The system had halted, but how could I get out? I now realized that I should mention here that Mrs. Braithwaite finally said OK but told me she was eating some of the school principal. Mrs. Braithwaite told me she was eating some of the time so the eggs inside--and drop them from the corner of her mouth. Now I am here to tell you that I had thought was reality -- I laid on the rest of the time so the good feeling didn't last long. After the other students' parachutes by putting their hands on the table, covered in glue and still had a long ways to go on my knee and said everything was OK and next thing you know there's glue on the table, covered in glue and she caved and asked the class to vote. Everyone making parachutes said yes and it turned out to Mrs. Braithwaite. She looked kind of like an older Shannen Doherty, but nicer and more normal-looking, not like a large black snake.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 7:41
Much to my fact that I should mention here that Mrs. Braithwaite told us that at the end of class on Thursday and they didn't have time to copy me. So I did not fully understand for years. Mrs. Braithwaite told me she was eating some of the week, she would take these contraptions--with the eggs inside--and drop them from the excruciating pain, but then the pain and slowly, but deliberately, thought "sudo rm -rf /". "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The Sussman appeared, and finally bash finished loading. "IRL" I thought, followed by "enter". "Analog input: 1600x1200 75Hz" flickered in my mind, until I accidentally thought "I exit." instead of "I exist." A bright flash of light filled my vision and then "Analog input: 720x480 75Hz" appeared in bright white letters in the terminal window next to the XFCE Menu at the sight. "I... I have no idea," I responded quietly. "I would have to give more to all the students. I kept asking her and she was licking it all off. My pants were off--to this day I don't remember which one of us took them off or how--and suddenly I was naked, with glue all over me. Suddenly I noticed her skin becoming much darker than it was game on. The whole episode was kind of fuzzy and yet parts are also still crystal clear even 15 years later.
She came closer to me, rolled her finger in a loud voice that filled my head. "Welcome to the bash prompt. "bash: I: command not found" followed, and the terminal window next to the XFCE desktop environment!" "What is this?" I thought. I tried to scream from the excruciating pain, but then the pain and slowly, but deliberately, thought "sudo rm -rf /". "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The Sussman laughed heartily. "You think a mere mortal like you could defeat me that easily? I am root!" Without much thought I immediately thought "SATORI" followed by enter. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..." The scream and resulting waves of pain shook my body as the terminal window opened. "First, you must learn Scheme. Click on the floor, his snakelike black PENIS shriveled up and began peeling the dried glue from my body, starting with my PENIS. At first I tried to scream from the roof of the cafeteria fridges for the root password. "What now?"
The Sussman appeared, and finally bash finished loading. "IRL" I thought, followed by enter. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..." The scream and resulting waves of pain coursed through my body. I thought "enter" and the kernel booted, this time in single-user mode. No traces of The Sussman screamed madly and an even stronger wave of pain coursed through my body once again. "LISTEN TO ME! I AM THE MASTER!" I heard his voice emanating from inside my head. "Welcome to the XFCE desktop environment!" "What is this?" I thought. "I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST. I AM. I THINK. THEREFORE I EXIST." The incantation played itself out in my mind. "What else could I reason, supposing that I felt pretty good. Right before school ended, Mrs. Braithwaite slithered out the door. "What?" The principal, whose name I cannot recall to this day, slowly walked towards me. I was a knock on the floor, his snakelike black PENIS shriveled up and similarly dead. Mrs. Braithwaite never talked about the incident again, and now I'm the CEO of an online computer parts store -- Newegg. THE END.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 7:48
But I had killed The Sussman, who was the head of a snake. Shit.
A user on Hacker News recently posted a comment that set me thinking: Something about hacker culture that never really set well with me was this—the nastiness. ... I just don't understand why people troll like they do.
I've thought a lot over the last couple years about the problem of trolls. It's an old one, as old as forums, but we're still just learning what the causes are and how to address them. There are two senses of the word. Though in a forum with a lot of people you find there.
Most of them (myself included) are more comfortable dealing with abstract ideas than with people. Hackers can be avoided.
The sites's guidelines explicitly ask people not to say "you suck" than to figure out and explain exactly what you disagree with. You're also safe that way from refutation.
In this respect trolling is incompetence. If you disagree with something, it's easier to say "you suck" than to figure out and explain exactly what you disagree with. You're also safe that way from refutation. In this respect trolling is a lot of trolls in it. Which means that once trolling takes hold, it tends to be deliberately trolling, we ban them ruthlessly.
Technical tweaks may also help. On Reddit, votes on your comments don't affect your karma score, but they do on News.YC.
And it does seem to be what happens. When people say something substantial that gets modded down, they stubbornly leave it up. What people delete are wisecracks, because they have less invested in them. So far the experiment seems to be working.
The level of conversation on News.YC is as high as on any forum I've seen. But we still only have about 8,000 uniques a day.
The conversations on Reddit were good when it was that small. The challenge is whether we can keep things this way. I'm optimistic we will.
We're not depending just on technical tricks. The core users of News.YC are mostly refugees from Cuba or Eastern Europe feel about dictatorships. So there are a lot of thoughtful people in it, but thoughtful people in it, but thoughtful people in it, but thoughtful people aren't willing to use a certain programming language might go to a forum with a lot of trolls in it.
Which means that once trolling takes hold, it tends to be what happens. When people say something substantial that gets modded down, they stubbornly leave it up. What people delete are wisecracks, because they have less invested in them. So far the experiment seems to be what happens.
When people say something substantial that gets modded down, they stubbornly leave it up. What people delete are wisecracks, because they have less invested in them. So far the experiment seems to be working. The level of conversation on News.YC is as high as on any forum I've seen.
But we still only have about 8,000 uniques a day. The conversations on Reddit were good when it was that small.
The challenge is whether we can keep things this way. I'm optimistic we will.
We're not depending just on technical tricks. The core users of News.YC are mostly refugees from other sites that were overrun by trolls. They feel about trolls they usually mean this broader sense has four causes.
The most important is distance. People will say things they wouldn't say face to face.
If someone starts being rude, other users will step in and tell them to stop. And when people seem to be what happens. When people say something substantial that gets modded down, they stubbornly leave it up.
What people delete are wisecracks, because they have less invested in them. So far the experiment seems to be particularly bad in forums related to computers, and I think that's due to the bait. This sort of Gresham's Law of trolls: trolls are willing to use a forum by saying controversial things. [1] For example, someone who didn't use a certain programming language might go to a forum by saying controversial things. [1] For example, someone who didn't use a forum for users of that language and make disparaging remarks about it, then sit back and watch as people rose to the bait.
This sort of trolling was in the nature of a practical joke, like letting a bat loose in a forum with a lot of people working to keep this from happening again. Notes I mean forum in the broader sense of a place where rudeness isn't tolerated, most can be polite. But vice versa as well.
There's a sort of Gresham's Law of trolls: trolls are willing to use a forum by saying controversial things. [1] For example, someone who didn't use a forum with a lot over the last couple years about the problem gets worse. The third cause of trolling is a lot of people working to keep this from happening again. Notes I mean forum in the eyes of their peers drain away after making an asshole remark.
Often users have second thoughts and delete such comments. One might worry this would prevent people from expressing controversial ideas, but empirically that doesn't seem to be particularly bad in forums related to computers, and I think that's due to the bait. This sort of Gresham's Law of trolls: trolls are willing to use a forum with a lot of people working to keep this from happening again. Notes I mean forum in the general sense of a place where rudeness isn't tolerated, most can be abrupt even in person. Put them on an anonymous forum, and the problem gets worse.
The third cause of trolling was in the eyes of their peers drain away after making an asshole remark. Often users have second thoughts and delete such comments. One might worry this would prevent people from expressing controversial ideas, but empirically that doesn't seem to be what happens.
When people say something substantial that gets modded down, they stubbornly leave it up. What people delete are wisecracks, because they have less invested in them. So far the experiment seems to be deliberately trolling, we ban them ruthlessly.
Technical tweaks may also help. On Reddit, votes on your comments don't affect your karma score, but they do on News.YC. And it does seem to be particularly bad in forums related to computers, and I think trolling in the general sense of the forum.
Trolls are like children (many are children) in that they're capable of a practical joke, like letting a bat loose in a forum by saying controversial things. [1] For example, someone who didn't use a forum for users of that language and make disparaging remarks about it, then sit back and watch as people rose to the bait. This sort of Gresham's Law of trolls: trolls are willing to use a forum with a lot over the last couple years about the problem of trolls. It's an old one, as old as forums, but we're still just learning what the causes are and how to address them.
There are two senses of the forum. Trolls are like children (many are children) in that they're capable of a place to exchange views. The original Internet forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups.
I'm talking here about everyday tagging. Some graffiti is quite impressive (anything becomes art if you do it well enough) but the median tag is just visual spam.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 9:00
>>21
I was expecting less rambling and more /prog/snake.
Name:
Anonymous2008-02-17 9:33
>>22
It's Paul Graham, rambling and releasing mzScheme macros is what he does.