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Enigmail Standard In Mandrake 9.0
AxelTorvalds writes "The Mozilla 1.1 RPMs in Mandrake 9.0 contain the enigmail plugin. It seemlessly encrypts, signs, decrypts and authenticate email with GPG or PGP in the Mozilla Mail client. This is the first major distributor I know of to support enigmail. With this and Evolution and Kmail both supporting GPG and PGP are we at the dawn of that golden age when encrypted email will be commonplace?" Update: 09/15 17:26 GMT by T : Borked link fixed.
There are a number of things I could have chosen to write about in this letter. I could
have chosen to write about how chauvinistic, abysmal prophets of stoicism like George W
Bush are all alike. Or I might have chosen to write something about the way that he is
always demanding money, sympathy, and the punishment of his critics. But, instead, I've
decided to devote this entire letter to explaining how by the next full moon, Bush will
order his foot soldiers to rob from the rich but -- unlike Robin Hood -- give to insecure
dweebs. For starters, I hate Bush to my very bone marrow. And here, I believe, lies a
clue to the intellectual vacuum so gapingly apparent in Bush's teachings. Whether or
not you realize this, his shock troops think that "cultural tradition has never
contributed a single thing to the advancement of knowledge or understanding.
First off, that's a lousy sentence. If they had written that Bush has no right
to be here, then that quote would have had more validity. As it stands, the first
response to this from Bush's adulators is perhaps that Bush is a perpetual victim
of injustice. Wrong. Just glance at the facts: Particularism doesn't work. So why
does Bush cling to it? You know the answer, don't you? You probably also know that
there are some deceitful deadbeats who are rabid. There are also some who are
cold-blooded. Which category does Bush fall into? If the question overwhelms you,
I suggest you check "both . I have a soft spot for petty drug addicts: a bog not
too far from here.
Although it's easy to sit in the press box and criticize, when people say that
bigotry and hate are alive and well, they're right. And Bush is to blame. I won't
pull any punches here: His artifices are like an enormous boosterism-spewing machine.
We must begin dismantling that structure. We must put a monkey wrench in its gears.
And we must bring Bush to justice, because the first lies that Bush told us
were relatively benign. Still, they have been progressing. And they will
continue to progress until there is no more truth; his lies will grow until
they blot out the sun.
I know that he is at least partially right in that I am proud that I'm not
among the number of manipulative, nasty loan sharks of this world. You know
that. But does he know we know that? Well, we all know the answer to that
question, don't we? But in case you don't, then you should note that he frequently
avers his support of democracy and his love of freedom. But one need only look at
what he is doing -- as opposed to what he is saying -- to understand his true
aims. So, Bush, maybe the problem is not with villainous whiners, but with you.
In asserting that the boogeyman is going to get us if we don't agree to his demands,
he demonstrates an astounding narrowness of vision.
From what I understand, what he is doing is not an innocent, recreational
sort of thing. It is a criminal activity, it is an immoral activity, it is
a socially destructive activity, and it is a profoundly morally crippled activity.
My message is clear: Bush will probably never understand why he scares me so much.
And he indeed does scare me: His shell games are scary, his machinations are scary,
and most of all, if you were to tell him that I wish he would vanish into the same
logistical nothingness that his arguments invariably lead to, he'd just pull his
security blanket a little tighter around himself and refuse to come out and deal
with the real world. He has a staggering number of splenetic compeers. One way to
ower their numbers, if not eradicate them entirely, is simple. We just inform them
that the space remaining in this letter will not suffice even to enumerate the ways
in which he has tried to spit on sacred icons.
Why does Bush want to bombard me with insults? Psychologists might suggest that
all he does is complain, complain, complain. Counselors might contend that Bush
clings to nepotism like a drowning man clings to a life preserver. Sociologists
might point out that it is sad to see him break down the industrial-technological
system. I agree with the above assessments, but if Bush gets his way, none of us
will be able to arraign him at the tribunal of public opinion. Therefore, we must
not let Bush leave a large part of this country's workforce dislocated and disillusioned.
I appreciate feedback and other people's views on subjects. I don't, however, appreciate feedback when it's given in an unprofessional manner.
Bush doesn't care about freedom, as he can neither eat it nor put it in the bank.
It's just a word to him. If he has spurred us to get him off our back, then Bush
may have accomplished a useful thing. It's fine to realize that it is easier for
me to imagine a million-dimensional vector space than the number of inconsistencies
in his overgeneralizations, but it's more important to know that he can push me only
so far and no farther. Let me rephrase that: He thinks that he has the mandate of
Heaven to incite pogroms, purges, and other mayhem. Of course, thinking so doesn't
make it so.
Loud , materialistic , and stingy seem the most appropriate adjectives to
describe Bush's scribblings. Am I aware of how Bush will react when he reads that
last sentence? Yes. Do I care? No, because he extricates himself from difficulty by
intrigue, by chicanery, by dissimulation, by trimming, by an untruth, by an injustice.
From a public-policy perspective, he is careless with data, makes all sorts of
causal interpretations of things without any real justification, has a way of
combining disparate ideas that don't seem to hang together, seems to show a sort
of pride in his own biases, gets into all sorts of pea-brained speculation, and then
makes no effort to test out his speculations -- and that's just the short list!
If you want a better opportunity to get a job, raise a family in a safe neighborhood,
have a better chance at a good education, and lower the taxes on the money you earn,
then I ask that you help me take personal action and subject Bush's memoranda to the
rigorous scrutiny they warrant. Calling Bush's cringers, who are legion, coldhearted
fomenters of revolution may be accurate, but Bush likes to cite poll results that
prove that the only way to expand one's mind is with drugs -- or maybe even
chocolate. Really? Have you ever been contacted by one of his pollsters? Chances
are good that you have never been contacted and never will be. Otherwise, the polls
would show that Bush talks a lot about McCarthyism and how wonderful it is. However,
he's never actually defined what it means. How can he argue for something he's never
defined? I've never really gotten a clear and honest answer to that question from Bush.
But what is clear is that he is completely snivelling. We all are, to some extent,
but Bush sets the curve.
Not only does Bush brand me as unprincipled, but he then commands his adherents, Go,
and do thou likewise. No matter what he thinks, the real question here is not, Why
doesn't he reveal the truth about himself? . The real question is rather, Why does
he want to deplete the ozone layer? The complete answer to that question is a
long, sad story. I've answered parts of that question in several of my previous
letters, and I'll answer other parts in future ones. For now, I'll just say that
last summer, I attempted what I knew would be a hopeless task. I tried to convince
Bush that his favorite scapegoats are the government, the economy, the environment,
society, parents, teachers, and just about everything else. As I expected, Bush was
unconvinced. We must avoid the extremes of a pessimistic naturalism and an optimistic
humanism by combining the truths of both. If we don't, future generations will not
know freedom. Instead, they will know fear; they will know sadness; they will know
injustice, poverty, and grinding despair. Most of all, they will realize, albeit
far too late, that if Bush were as bright as he thinks he is, he'd know that I have
a tendency to report the more sensational things that he is up to, the more shocking
things, things like how he wants to demand that loyalty to grumpy lugs supersedes
personal loyalty. And I realize the difficulty that the average person has in
coming to grips with that, but his henchmen say, All it takes to solve our social
woes are shotgun marriages, heavy-handed divorce laws, and a return to some mythical
1950s Shangri-la. Yes, I'm afraid they really do talk like that. It's the only way
for them to conceal that we can never return to the past. And if we are ever to move
forward to the future, we have to turn Bush's bloodthirsty solutions to our advantage.
There is still hope for our society, real hope -- not the false sense of hope that
comes from the mouths of haughty jackanapes, but the hope that makes you eager to
help people see his illogical, hateful methods of interpretation for what they are.
Bush just reported that his cock-and-bull stories can give us deeper insights into
the nature of reality. Do you think that that's merely sloppy reporting on Bush's part?
I don't. I think that it's a deliberate attempt to prosecute, sentence, and label
people as homophobic, nerdy spivs without the benefit of any evidence whatsoever.
He claims that he is a martyr for freedom and a victim of metagrobolism. I respond
that he favors an immoral Code of Conduct that serves no purpose other than to
evoke a misdirected response to genuine unresolved grievances. As my mother used
to tell me, Bush has shown no compunction in committing character assassinations
r engaging in full-scale vendettas. While I can't speak for anyone else, I feel
that I, not being one of the many abominable paper-pushers of this world, don't
care what others say about him. He's still ghastly, clueless, and he intends to
condone universal oppression. His few positive contributions will continue to be
overshadowed by his broader message of hate. Why is that relevant to this letter?
Because his threats are a load of bunk. I use this delightfully pejorative term,
bunk -- an alternative from the same page of my criminal-slang lexicon would serve
just as well -- because he does, occasionally, make a valid point. But when he
says that there's no difference between normal people like you and me and scummy,
smarmy lowbrows, that's where the facts end and the ludicrousness begins.
Unfortunately, I can already see the response to this letter. Someone, possibly
George W Bush himself or one of his spokesmen, will write a superstitious piece
about how utterly asinine I am. If that's the case, then so be it. What I just
wrote sorely needed to be written.
Break 'em off somethin
Shit..Yo..Yo.. uhh..
Just wakin up in the mornin gotta thank God
I don't know but today seems kinda odd
No barkin from the dog, no smog
And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog (damn)
I got my grub on, but didn't pig out
Finally got a call from a girl I wanna dig out
(Whassup?) Hooked it up for later as I hit the do'
Thinkin will I live, another twenty-fo'
I gotta go cause I got me a drop top
And if I hit the switch, I can make the ass drop
Had to stop, at a red light
Lookin in my mirror and not a jacker in sight
And everything is alright
I got a beep from Kim, and she can fuck all night
Called up the homies and I'm askin y'all
Which park, are y'all playin basketball?
Get me on the court and I'm trouble
Last week fucked around and got a triple double
Freakin niggaz everyway like M.J.
I can't believe, today was a good day (shit!)
Drove to the pad and hit the showers
Didn't even get no static from the cowards
Cause just yesterday them fools tried to blast me
Saw the police and they rolled right past me
No flexin, didn't even look in a nigga's direction
as I ran the intersection
Went to $hort Dog's house, they was watchin Yo! MTV Raps
What's the haps on the craps?
Shake 'em up, shake 'em up, shake 'em up, shake 'em
Roll 'em in a circle of niggaz and watch me break 'em
with the seven, seven-eleven, seven-eleven
Seven even back do' Lil' Joe
I picked up the cash flow
Then we played bones, and I'm yellin domino
Plus nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A.
Today was a good day (shit!)
Left my nigga's house paid (what)
Picked up a girl been tryin to fuck since the 12th grade
It's ironic, I had the brew she had the chronic
The Lakers beat the Supersonics
I felt on the big fat fanny
Pulled out the jammy, and killed the punanny
And my dick runs deep, so deep
So deep put her ass to sleep
Woke her up around one
She didn't hesitate, to call Ice Cube the top gun
Drove her to the pad and I'm coastin
Took another sip of the potion hit the three-wheel motion
I was glad everything had worked out
Dropped her ass off and then chirped out
Today was like one of those fly dreams
Didn't even see a berry flashin those high beams
No helicopter looking for a murder
Two in the mornin got the Fatburger
Even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp
And it read, "Ice Cube's a pimp" (yeah)
Drunk as hell but no throwin up
Half way home and my pager still blowin up
Today I didn't even have to use my A.K.
I got to say it was a good day (shit!)
Hey wait, wait a minute Pooh, stop this shit
What the fuck I'm thinkin about?
Hmmmmm
I'm goin down down baby, yo' street in a Range Rover (c'mon)
Street sweeper baby, cocked ready to let it go (HOT SHIT!)
Shimmy shimmy cocoa what? Listen to it pound
Light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now
I'm goin down down baby, yo' street in a Range Rover Street sweeper baby, cocked ready to let it go
Shimmy shimmy cocoa what? Listen to it pound Light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now
Mmmmm, you can find me, in St. Louis rollin on dubs
Smokin on dubs in clubs, blowin up like cocoa puffs
Sippin Bud, gettin perved and getting dubbed
Daps and hugs, mean mugs and shoulder shrugs
And it's all because, 'ccumulated enough scratch
just to navigate it, wood decorated on chrome
and it's candy painted, fans fainted - while I'm entertainin
Wild ain't it? How me and money end up hangin
I hang with Hannibal Lector (HOT SHIT!) so feel me when I bring it
Sing it loud (what?)
I'm from the Lou and I'm proud
Run a mile - for the cause, I'm righteous above the law
Playa my style's raw, I'm "Born to Mack" like Todd Shaw
Forget the fame, and the glamour
Give me D's wit a rubber hammer
My grammar be's ebonics, gin tonic and chronic
Fuck bionic it's ironic, slammin niggaz like Onyx
Lunatics til the day I die
I run more game than the Bulls and Sonics
I'm goin down down baby, yo' street in a Range Rover Street sweeper baby, cocked ready to let it go
Shimmy shimmy cocoa what? Listen to it pound Light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now
Who say pretty boys can't be wild niggaz?
Loud niggaz, O.K. Corral niggaz
Foul niggaz, run in the club and bust in the crowd nigga
How nigga? Ask me again and it's goin down nigga
Now nigga, come to the circus and watch me clown nigga
Pound niggaz, what you be givin when I'm around nigga
Frown niggaz, talkin shit when I leave the town nigga
Say now, can you hoes come out to play now
Hey I'm, ready to cut you up any day now
Play by, my rules Boo and you gon' stay high
May I, answer yo' +Third Question+ like A.I.
Say hi, to my niggaz left in the slamma
From St. Louis to Memphis
From Texas back up to Indiana, Chi-Town
K.C. Motown to Alabama
L-A, New York Yankee niggaz to Hotlanta
'ouisiana, all my niggaz wit "Country Grammar"
Smokin blunts in Savannah
Blow thirty mill' like I'm Hammer
I'm goin down down baby, yo' street in a Range Rover Street sweeper baby, cocked ready to let it go
Shimmy shimmy cocoa what? Listen to it pound Light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now
Let's show these cats to make these milli-ons
So you niggaz quit actin silly, mon
+Kid+ quicker than +Billy+, mon
Talkin really and I need it mon
Flows I kick 'em freely mon, 'specially off Remi, mon
Keys to my Beemer, mon - holla at Beenie Man
See me, mon, cheifin rollin deeper than any mon
through Jennings mon, through U-City back up to Kingsland
wit nice niggaz, sheist niggaz who snatch yo' life niggaz
Trife niggaz, who produce and sell the same beat twice, nigga
(HOT SHIT!) Ice niggaz, all over close to never sober
From broke to havin bro-kers my price Range is Rover
Now I'm knockin like Jehovah - let me in now, let me in now
Bill Gates, Donald Trump let me in now
Spin now, I got money to lend my friends now
We in now, candy Benz, Kenwood and 10"s now
I win now (Whoo!) Fuckin lesbian twins now
Seein now, through the pen I make my ends now
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DVD Ripping, Divx, VCD, SVCD under Linux
HaHah u r f@g0rz lol