From owner-freebsd-advocacy@FreeBSD.ORG Mon Jul 1 16:09:23 2013 Return-Path: Delivered-To: freebsd-advocacy@freebsd.org Received: from mx1.freebsd.org (mx1.freebsd.org [8.8.178.115]) by hub.freebsd.org (Postfix) with ESMTP id 91058901 for ; Mon, 1 Jul 2013 16:09:23 +0000 (UTC) (envelope-from holyfathersaintbruno@gmail.com) Received: from mail-yh0-x22a.google.com (mail-yh0-x22a.google.com [IPv6:2607:f8b0:4002:c01::22a]) by mx1.freebsd.org (Postfix) with ESMTP id 578BB1299 for ; Mon, 1 Jul 2013 16:09:23 +0000 (UTC) Received: by mail-yh0-f42.google.com with SMTP id c41so2610065yho.29 for ; Mon, 01 Jul 2013 09:09:22 -0700 (PDT) DKIM-Signature: v=1; a=rsa-sha256; c=relaxed/relaxed; d=gmail.com; s=20120113; h=message-id:date:from:user-agent:mime-version:to:subject:references :in-reply-to:content-type:content-transfer-encoding; bh=TO8lmuyvH1VDQGntfU2gfV2oqgTs5FRl+UxlMdbk0Jk=; b=TKvqOhqNo6bOlxZzoLZfrB9R4ku+SqStBUQ4HSMPr9YO4wyY8o3CM/MuJN4cvRQUC6 i7qn0sc7BjLsrLDplIfE4Vovj0BbZPtmBijI+PL7ngDyAum+FKlsQz/tG9UvZ7zvOaAi MDm8YTqWAm0o0Q8RU1/nGwOZW4UfvcZH5c8GZWTs3ItOPHXqMbo9ESCNVwSx/1y7IzBe LucTxOYy3DOKOrUlL+ZFXrKLjNwpl2yudMoLbW3xe6OQ9v7W9XDKY51rwgBviHJdEDWR 3E7KPLkFAdv5Apvy5hgw7cxueA2Hm5QmsEuVPcJjjlWoDFKgbmci2NlSrQnP7ZiIwu5K 4ADA== X-Received: by 10.236.25.36 with SMTP id y24mr12542553yhy.129.1372694962376; Mon, 01 Jul 2013 09:09:22 -0700 (PDT) Received: from [192.168.0.11] (cpe-72-183-246-29.elp.res.rr.com. [72.183.246.29]) by mx.google.com with ESMTPSA id e69sm34060580yhl.3.2013.07.01.09.09.21 for (version=TLSv1 cipher=ECDHE-RSA-RC4-SHA bits=128/128); Mon, 01 Jul 2013 09:09:21 -0700 (PDT) Message-ID: <51D1A9B0.6050403@gmail.com> Date: Mon, 01 Jul 2013 10:09:20 -0600 From: Bruno Cartusia User-Agent: Mozilla/5.0 (X11; FreeBSD amd64; rv:17.0) Gecko/20130611 Thunderbird/17.0.6 MIME-Version: 1.0 To: freebsd-advocacy@freebsd.org Subject: Re: Fandom and the dangers of "Free" Software References: In-Reply-To: Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1; format=flowed Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-BeenThere: freebsd-advocacy@freebsd.org X-Mailman-Version: 2.1.14 Precedence: list List-Id: FreeBSD Evangelism List-Unsubscribe: , List-Archive: List-Post: List-Help: List-Subscribe: , X-List-Received-Date: Mon, 01 Jul 2013 16:09:23 -0000 On 06/22/2013 11:05, dil does wrote: > GCC 4.3: sched.c line 572: Error: PC Load Letter. > > Theo De Raadt stared at his screen. Another glitch, another delay. The next > version of OpenBSD, 4.4, was due for release a week ago, and he was still > not ready. Just another reason for a jerkoff with a DSL connection and an IRC > client to think that Theo De Raadt was anything *but* the best programmer ever. > > He took another drag from his cigarette, another couple millimeters burned > from the end. He looked into the pack (just five left - not near enough > to get him through this night) and sighed. Theo De Raadt didn't need some > dry plant leaf to get him through this. Theo De Raadt didn't need anything > organic to reassure him he was the BEST PROGRAMMER EVER. > > Not that it mattered, anyways. GCC was being a joke, as always. Nobody took > that cunt Stallman seriously, anyways. It wasn't the fucking OpenBSD trunk that > was the problem. It was GCC. What was GCC, anyways? Just another quisinart. > > Well, this wasn't going to compile itself. The amber light of his terminal > shown on his face, a few more photons dancing on his intent eyes, the irises > opening slowly. He saw the amber spark that danced on the bottom of his > screen, another of the amber sparks that waited, obeying his every command. > > He fired up Vim. The characters, his inspiration, his *muse*, filling the > screen. The terminal stretching to accomodate the source files on which he > worked. He aligned his keyboard, running his fingers slowly across the keys, > feeling his index fingers sliding across into home row. > > 527 G return. > > The air, the little figment GCC was so eager to choke on, was clear as a > thousand suns, yet thick with the haze smoke of dozens of cigarettes and the > heat of dozens of SPARC servers. The pea soup of nicotine fog was agitated by > his rack of fine Sun bozen. Now THAT was a real man's tool, he thought. It > has been said that it is a poor craftsman who blames his tools. But yet, > is there not more to the relationship of man and tool? Is a great craftsman > not inevitably inspired by his tool. Is his tool not inevitably amused? Is > it not inevitably a conduit for his inspiration... his passion... to burst > out upon the face of the world? > > A stream of characters littered the bottom of his screen. In this dark night, > in this darkest hour for the openbsd project, perhaps these symbols would > bring a faint glimmer of hope. > > Hey Theo, just ran w on your server, noticed you. Must be getting late huh > (not that I'm an expert on timezones). > > This wasn't the source he was looking for, but that wasn't a bad thing. Perhaps > this unexpected interruption into his private coding session would provide that > spark of excitement he needed to deal with GCC's numerous inadequacies. Perhaps > this mysterious stranger would give him the strength he needed to deal with > that stack smashing, buffer overflow generating, decidedly position dependent, > poorly optimized bloated junk that open source coders like himself, men > seeking to thrust their skill into this world, were forced to deal with. If > no good deed goes unpunished, then all this penance ensured that Mr. Theo > De Raadt had been a very, very good boy indeed. > > He slapped control z, bringing up that $, so eager to await his every motion. w > | grep esr - he brushed gently his smallest, most delicate finger across > the return key, contemplating briefly before sending the electrical pulse > that would unravel the mystery in naught but a microsecond. His faithful, > electric-powered steed unveiled to him the truth of the mystery. Perhaps > his partner wasn't so mysterious after all. > > The results, not unexpected, but not unexciting. Of course. Who else could > he expect to be by his side on this dark, lonely companion - esr. > > He paused for a bit - maybe a couple billion cycles on that little piece > of silicon that made this all possible. He didn't want to waste this next > reply. An encounter with esr was worth the time spent. > > He savored the next few moments. He wasted a few keystrokes prototyping his > response. For a man like Theo, C code came easy, flowed off his delicate (but > yet strong) lips like the aroma of a fine wine. Time with esr, those octets > of data stringing themselves across a web of glass, was so exotic compared to > the normal, monastic life of the best programmer in the world. Eventually, > he released that magic combination of control and h, that little chord of > keys that he was so quick to use, to ensure that any vision presented would > be naught utter bliss. > > He shift his hands back to home row. A, E, O - that combination so familiar > to a master of Dvorak, the only way a man of his stature could interface > with the virtual world of his computer, a virtual world he created. > > esr, my friend, were you testing me with that anonymous message - concerned, > perhaps, I'd slipped? But don't worry, by friend, I'd didn't need to burn > a couple execution cycles to know it was you. Who else can I trust, who > else can I confide in? No... Who else could I bear to admit into my private > meditations upon the trunk of my great project. Only you, esr. Only you, esr, > could pull me away from that, the time spent at the altar that separates the > men from the weak? So thank you, esr, for your brief communique has been a > pleasant diversion from the trials I face. > > But his happiness was shortlived. A simple fg brought him back, away from > his personal desires, and with naught but three keystrokes, he resumed the > identity of Theo De Raadt, master of the OpenBSD source tree, tamer of merges, > the only damn console cowboy in this world who was going to, hell, who COULD > fix this damn problem. But fortunately, this distraction (but should it > have been an invasion, a penetration of his personal time? should it not > be unwelcome? should not the great Theo De Raadt be above such things?) > was shortlived, for in naught but a few minutes, his concentration was > broken. Another message arrived, and the sender didn't bother trying to be > anonymous this time. > > Theo, listen, it's Eric. Really? The night before a Hackathon, and here you > are, alone, killing yourself to get this code to work. Theo, we need to talk, > I need to talk. There's a thousand, hell, maybe a million coders out there, > and tomorrow morning, code is going to fly. But this isn't tomorrow, this > isn't hackathon. Right now, maybe it's not the code that matters. Maybe > what matters now isn't a question of source of source trees, or periodic > functions - isn't a question of source lines of code. What matters right now > is who we are, the people behind the names. What matters right now, Theo, > isn't all the code that we're going to write, it isn't OpenBSD, it isn't > what history will write of us. What matters is who we are right now. What > matters right now is us. Theo, there's going to be a Hackathon every year > as long as you walk this planet, but tonight is only going to happen once, > and I can't bear to waste that time with you staring at liquid crystals > twisting themselves into eye pleasing shapes. > > Theo didn't even have to wait for the formality of sending a reply, because > a commanding rap on that door, that hotel room door, was enough to break him > away. Not that it mattered anyways. He wasn't going to write anymore code > tonight. He stepped out from his computer, taking a break for the first time > in hours, and ran to the door, sliding the bolt free, pulling it from the > hole that kept the door shut, kept him isolated, and as the hinges creaked, > Eric stepped forth, penetrating his private domicile. > > "ERIC!" Theo said, savoring the name as it passed over his lips. "You may > be late, but you were write - this night isn't over yet, and that window of > opportunity hasn't clamped shit yet." > > "Theo," Eric said. "You look better in person." > > "Eric," Theo replied, "You're quite quick to complement, but I think all > the pleasure is mine. This world we live in, there's an unending supply of > lusers filling my email inbox with crap, but you're the only one that can > fill me with something better, with something beautiful." > > "Theo," Eric replied, "I want to help you with OpenBSD. You're brilliant; > reading your code is like making love on a hot summer light" > > "Eric, I'm sorry. I want you contribute to my trunk, I want you to contribute > to me. But OpenBSD isn't just mine. They won't let us be together, Eric. I > can't give you commit access to the CVS trunk... But maybe, just maybe, > I can give you a consolation prize." > > "I, Theo De Raadt, do hereby give you, Eric S Raymond, do hereby give you > full commit access to my heart... And my body." > > "Theo, I'm been slinging code for decades now, but I've been waiting my > entire life to hear that. Tonight, with that newfound access, I've got a > development branch that I've been very eager to push." > > "Eric, I wish I was that development branch, so you could push me every > version." > > "I don't know Theo, I just wish I was your stable tag, because then I'd > always be there for you to commit to me." > > "Eric, I'll give you better than that. You can be my backup tapes, because > I know you'll always be there for me." > > "Theo, I've had enough of this worldplay. I think it's time I get root access > on you." > > "Eric, you should have told me that five minutes ago." > > Eric embraced the smaller man, and felt a delightful tingle in his mustache > as his lips drew closer. He felt the first of the many merges they'd be doing > tonight as his tongue slid into Theo's mouth. For once in his life, Theo was > truly speechless, but he didn't need words to respond. He pushed Eric onto the > bed, no small feat for a man as small as Theo. He rolled Eric on top of him. > > "Eric, I think it's time we review some of my older, deeper branches." > > His OpenBSD pufferfish shirt came off quite quickly, and with this sudden > reveal of flesh, Theo felt a sudden bulge. > > "Eric, your enthusiasm is palpable." > > "Theo, I only hope you've allocated enough heap space for my pointer." > > "Eric, you're talking to the best virtual memory programmer in this world. I > assure you, my heap won't have problems allocating to fit any pointer." > > As the two men pulled their remaining clothes off, Theo glanced back with > a knowing smile. > > "Eric, I've already given you root. Now open a port on my firewall." > > "Gee, Theo, I just hope you during those long, hard auditing sessions of > yours, you don't reverse this - us - away." > > "Eric, I could never bear to audit our love." > > As Eric slathered his penis with lubricant and began to penetrate Theo, he > remarked with a knowing glance "Theo, I think I've found the third remote > hole in an OpenBSD install in the last twenty years." > > As the two lovers writhed orgasmically, Theo said "But this hole is > different... You see, Eric, my love, I have no intention of fixing this > remote hole." > > But their ecstasy was short-lived, for about thirty seconds later, a beautific > smile erupted across Eric S Raymond's face as a certain other part of his > body erupted. Theo, too, noticed a lovely sense of warmth filling him, > and remarked "You know, Eric, I was thinking earlier tonight about the > relationship between craftsmen and their tools, and I'm thinking, Eric, that > for a master for myself, you're the only one that I can bear to work with." > > Eric stood up, and began to dress himself. He shot back, "Theo, tonight has > been... indescribable. Tomorrow morning, you're going to wake up and go down > to Hackathon, and it's not just going to be about us, it's going to be about > all of them. You're going to keep on releasing OpenBSD, and that's why I find > you irresistable. Tonight has been a special pleasure, but I can't keep you > for myself. I've enjoyed having you in my grasp tonight, but a brilliant mind > such as yourself could never be constrained to just one man. I admire you, > because no matter what, you're always ready to give yourself to everyone, > to throw yourself upon the wheel, to work long nights alone, because it's > what you believe in. Because no matter what, you always do what's right. But > I want you to know, Theo, that only on your darkest night, when it seems like > everything else has left you being, when it seems that everyone else is just > content to be a FreeBSD luser or a thirteen year old boy playing Quake on their > mother's Windows PC, I want you to understand that I'm always here for you, > and just for you, Theo. What we have is special, for a man such as yourself, > because we can't just give it away. Because our love isn't BSD licensed; > it's totally proprietary." > > And as Eric walked out the door, Theo said "I've spent my entire lift fighting > for open source, but a relationship with you is something I could bear to > keep proprietary. Eric, will you be my binary blob?" > > "Theo... the day that nVidia releases their specifications with no NDA, > the day that Steven Ballmer GPL licenses the Windows Kernel, the day that > all humans may understand our legacy as open source heroes, our relationship > will still be proprietary. We are one NDA that will never expire." > > His personal life satisfied, Theo again resumed his usual pose, eight fingers > on the keyboard. But this was different. He wasn't going to fix OpenBSD. He was > about to show idiots with an email address the true power and greatness that > was Theo De Raadt. He typed a command he's only dreamed about for years. He > pulled down the latest revision of the GCC source code, and smirked ever > so slightly as he opened it in vim, and his smirk erupted into a grin as he > pointed it as the one line of source that had caused him such trouble, wiped > it away with naught but two keystrokes, deftly replacing it with a line of > his own invention. But this was not a patch that would ever be received by > an SVN server. This was not a patch that would be emailed to some mailing > list. This patch was going straight to the top. He fired up his trusty mail > program and fired off a brief message, typing in the Send: field an address > he had not sent in years, and with a few taps of tab began composing the body. > > To: Richard Stallman > > Hey dick, quick message here. I've been tweaking my own project, not to > toot my own horn, and I've done you a bit of a favor, perhaps. I've fixed > a little bug in your compiler for you - isn't open source wonderful? > > Love, Theo De Raadt. > > PS: Isn't it wonderful what regular code audits can do? > > http://dildosikw7h3qic4.onion > _______________________________________________ > freebsd-advocacy@freebsd.org mailing list > http://lists.freebsd.org/mailman/listinfo/freebsd-advocacy > To unsubscribe, send any mail to "freebsd-advocacy-unsubscribe@freebsd.org" Gayest thing I have ever read...