2012:
You
Me
Sussman, The
Dubs Guy
Kodak gallery programmer
The One Kodak refers to as the Mental Midget
The /polecats kebab/-able
A hikikomori or two from /jp/ seeking SICP wisdom
Python the Hard Way Guy, probably Zed Shaw
Mentifex
The ancient shitposter that honed his craft since modems were first 2400 baud
The guy that starts threads of woe of /prog/'s shittiness ,@(include >>2-1001)
MIA in 2012:
Furozen Voido (pastebin perhaps ran out of #define tokens)
Everyone from before 2008
At one time, for the sake of Third Love, I was supposed to marry her friend from England who had attended a college where her reference librarian was a guy named Philip Larkin, who dabbled in poetry. (I owed her big-time, because she had smuggled out of England for me a book on Amiga ARexx that I used to write MindRexx, my first AI Mind program.) Anyway, the British public used to wait with fractured patience for this poetaster Larkin to complete and publish one slim volume after another. I had a similar experience one day when a copy of my subscription to The New Yorker arrived. Glancing through it on my way to Evans Pool, I discovered that it contained a long article about someone whose foreign-language poems I knew by heart (a few of them anyway). I felt a tidal wave of mere anticipation wash over me as I foresaw myself sitting leisurely in the Honey Bear and enjoying word by word, line by line, the lengthy article about the Russian poetess Anna Akhmatova.
In Russian, Honey Bear would be an atrociouly redundant phrase, like calling someone Honey Honeywit, but not in English. In Russia, I would be a real nitwit if I tried to take the name of Seattle's once most popular coffee shop and tried to open a cafe in Moscow with the name Honey Bear. Memetically, it would go over like a lead balloon. But what exactly is a nitwit in the truest sense? It is a nothing-knower or a not-knower, and we may make memetic hay from old English words like the aforesaid nitwit. As you knowingly spread your awesome memes about the end of the world as we know it (TEOTWAWKI), or about the better mousetrap, or about your grudge against reality, or about wotnot else you have in mind, you and I have a chance in Cyberspace to take back the English language and to restore words to what they were once-and-future supposed to mean. The very word whatnot is a corruption of the word wotnot, as if to say, I wot not whereof you speak. Netizens and muggles who use the word whatnot are unwittingly carrying on the murder most foul of the English language. But Father forgive them, for they wot not what they do.