Name: +++The Sussman+++ 2009-11-04 7:00
Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in LISPMACHINE Crime Scandal", "EXPERT PROGRAMMER Arrested after Anus Haxing"...
Damn DQNs. They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the EXPERT PROGRAMMER? Did you ever wonder what made his other car a cdr, what forces FUQIN ANGERED him, what may have bootstrapped him?
I am an EXPERT PROGRAMMER, enter my world...
Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other DQNs, the Sepples they teach us bores me...
Damn underachiever. They're all alike.
I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to calculate the factorial. I understand it. "No, Ms. Culver, I didn't loop my work. I tail recursed it in my head..."
Damn DQN. Probably iterated it. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a LISPMACHINE. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me... Or feels threatened by me.. Or thinks I'm a smart ass.. Or doesn't like
Damn DQN. All he does is cons cells. They're all alike.
And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a /prog/ is found. "This is it... this is where I belong..." I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
Damn DQN. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been forced indentation by sadists, or trolled by the FVs. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... the world of the dead dog and the MIT professors, the beauty of the pure code. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteeringJava, and you call us
Yes, I am a
I am an EXPERT PROGRAMMER, and this is my
Damn DQNs. They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the EXPERT PROGRAMMER? Did you ever wonder what made his other car a cdr, what forces FUQIN ANGERED him, what may have bootstrapped him?
I am an EXPERT PROGRAMMER, enter my world...
Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other DQNs, the Sepples they teach us bores me...
Damn underachiever. They're all alike.
I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to calculate the factorial. I understand it. "No, Ms. Culver, I didn't loop my work. I tail recursed it in my head..."
Damn DQN. Probably iterated it. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a LISP
loeb and shouldn't be here...Damn DQN. All he does is cons cells. They're all alike.
And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a /prog/ is found. "This is it... this is where I belong..." I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
Damn DQN. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been forced indentation by sadists, or trolled by the FVs. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... the world of the dead dog and the MIT professors, the beauty of the pure code. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering
"GRUNNUR"s. We explore... and you call us "GRUNNUR"s. We seek after SATORI... and you call us "GRUNNUR"s. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without OS bias... and you call us "GRUNNUR"s. You build ENTERPRISE TURKEY SOLUTIONS , you are slow as fuck, you do OOP, JAMES GOSLING IS A MURDERER, and you lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the "GRUNNUR"s.Yes, I am a
"GRUNNUR". My crime is that of messing with your pots and pans. My crime is that of judging people by whether they read SICP, not what they look like. My crime is that of haxing your anus, something that you will never forgive me for.I am an EXPERT PROGRAMMER, and this is my
ABSTRACT BULLSHITE. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.