The sorts of people who built the infrastructure for ZOGbook were beat up in school and made fun of until like 10-20 years ago when it became apparent the MIC had a vested interest in controlling that emerging wellspring of information exchange and opinion formation. Fuck cunts who want to pretend like our society didn't shit on the people who build one of our most important pieces of technology, fuck your historical revisionism to make you feel better about bigotry and cultural anti-intellectualism.
Dennis Ritchie died for your sins, but he's not the forgiving merciful god type. Best start groveling normie shits, the day of the null terminated string is fast approaching.
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cupocheer
Space Nigga
[unwillingly condescend the dp]
Not noticing any change is the demeanor of the apparition behind me I continued onward.
Attempting to peer off into the distance to see if I could find what had draw my attention before I swept my eyes left and right and back again.
Where was it? What was it? Was I beginning to hallucinate in the blazing noon day sun?
"There! THERE! I saw that! Do it again! Please! Do it again."
The reflection disappeared as quickly as it had come. Was someone or something (glancing over my shoulder at the shadowy figure still behind me) playing a cat and mouse game with my mind?
A twinge of fear began to ease into my thoughts -- why? Why me? What is it all about? Why are you following me? What do you want?
Suddenly my mouth went completely dry and my tongue grew thick and heavy in my throat. Dehydration! I was beginning to dehydrate. Dehydration can make a person very ill, even lead to death. I needed liquid! Moisture! Where was I going to get any thing liquid?
There! A cactus. I can eat its prickly pear.
Ignoring the pain of the filament, thorny hairs of the cactus I ripped the pear apart and thrust the fruit into my parched mouth.
As I sucked the life giving moisture from the cactus I looked down the distance and saw that my stalker hadn't moved but waiting patiently as I refreshed my thirst.
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