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Sun's Simon Phipps Answers ESR On Java
comforteagle writes "Sun's Chief Technology Officer Simon Phipps has answered Eric Raymond's open letter calling on Sun to open source Java." In the quoted response, Phipps says (condensed) "I'd say this is 100 per cent rant... His simplistic accusations don't hold water... If this is the way that Open Source treats its friends, I'd hate to see how it treats its enemies... It's pretty difficult to respond to this. He's so out of touch."
Fristsss posssts! Mine@!
I used to like slashdot, now it just makes me angry.
I've had to find some answers recently about incompatibility between Legato Networker and Mac OS 10.3 and these weblogs I keep tripping over written by many of Mac's faithful are making me nauseous.
Technorati is lousy with these awful sites... these words and efforts need to stop being wasted in this tremendous circle-jerk and put to use for good.
And only 12-ish comments so far. Sigh...
"Den som vover mister Fodfaeste et Oieblik; den som ikke vover mister Livet." -Soren Kierkegaard
It's pretty hard to take a guy that dresses up as Obi-Wan seriously.
mbbac
ESR studied the document in his hand with interest. His brow, furrowed into numerous crap lines, was covered by his sweaty red forlock. His hands shook. He mouthed the words "hoooh boy" silently as he began a steady hyperventilation. Finally, after waiting for weeks and weeks, he had what he'd gone to sleep thinking about every night: the first ossue of SCAT!, the magazine for poop fanatics everywhere, had fianlly hit the stands. Eric's heart burst with pride, as he had taken the last of his money made when VA Linux^H^H^H^H^HSoftware had gone public and invested in this private project of the Slashdot staff.
Running quickly to the back bedroom of his one-story shanty (and being careful not to trip on the heavy 386 PC cases or the myriad of cables, cords, dongles, and wires running in various directions across his dirt floor), Eric slammed the door and laid stomach-down on the bed. He opened to the boilerplate and read his pal's names with delights, kicking his feet back and forth against each other. He couldn't believe his dream had come true! But just as he was about to flip to the pictorial section (to examine how the GIMP performed at the cropping and scaling, of course) the phone rang. It was Jon Katz.
"ESR, you sunnuvvabitch! Where the Hell is my story? You promised me you'd publish my story in your God-damned worthless shit-fag mag! You doulbe-crossing--"
ESR interrupted Katz. "Whoa, whoa, I don't know what you're talking about. We agreed that I'd pick an article and have it be the cover story. I never said it would be yours. It just so happens the bois at Slashdot picked mine instead!"
With a strangling, gurgling scream from Katz, ESR hung up the phone and sighed. He scratched his beer belly and thirsted for Jgermeister. Why did people always harass him? From RMS calling and reminding Eric that he was not a good a programmer as he, or Larry Augustin calling emailing death threats regarding petty cash theft from VA's offices after Eric's visits, or the trolls on Slashdot writing about his and his friends' personal lives, the Jger was his only release. Perhaps after a few fifths of it he'd be calm enough again to dive back into his magazine.
Waking up hours later, ESR realized he'd drank too much (again) and had slept away... Well, what had he slept away? He couldn't even remember what time it was when he'd woken up or fallen asleep last. Between the early Winter Pennsylvania nights and his "hacker's" schedule it was so hard to keep track of what time of day, week, or month it was he might as well have been living in a cave. He remembered when he was, though, and thought warmly of his shanty-- built by hand from 55 gallon drums harvested from his local landfill. Over the drums ESR had filled clay, mixed from a nearby creek, and painted it brown to make it look like a log cabin. How proud he was indeed! Wouldn't you be?
ESR picked up the SCAT! magazine, unzipped his pants, and sat at his kitchen table-- humming with a cluster of 386s running Linux-- and enjoyed the rest of his freetime the way God intended: masturbating furiously to pictures of pale, skinny young men eating turds and smearing shit all over each other.
I wish there were only some way to mod (-1, Funny).
ESR has given us a compelling essay on the benefits of communal non-property. He has enriched our lives with a collection of stirring poetry. He has left an electronic legacy of just how gruesome the human form can get. And he has given every underdog geek hope with an inspiring account of his meteoric rise to unheard of riches.
But none of these compares to his Sex Tips for Geeks. After all, if these tips can get ESR into some hottie's pants, then any disgusting slob can get laid!
Seriously, though, how could ESR have developed these valuable mating tips? Nobody can make me believe that even if he offered all of his newfound wealth to the most hard-up crack-whore on the streets of New York he could get his stinger wet. My Philosophy professor always said, "you cannot invoke magic or God and expect to win an argument in this class." I am therefore left to reach only one possible conclusion. What follows is the only possible explanation for ESR's Sex Tips for Geeks.
The room was dark and the night was cold as the rain pelted against the window. Eric paid no attention, though, absorbed as he was in the warm glow of his computer monitor. A raspy voice grated out of the speakers situated on either side of his monitor, "you've got mail!"
It was his mother's voice, which he had recorded to use with the perl AOL interface he had been working on for the past 10 years. Eric smiled and wiped the sweat condensing in his palm on his thin swatch of hair, only to replace the sweat with the grease oozing from his scalp. His hands shaking, Eric simultaneously pressed the ctrl, alt, shift, F1 and page down keys to retrive the new mail message. He read the message allowed, his voice quivering with excitement.
"hi! i will meet with u on chat 7pm tonite! c u then, xoxoxoxo suzee."
Eric expunged a bulb of gas from his spastic bowel as he checked his watch. 6:57 pm. His shaking grew more extreme, more uncontrollable. He could barely press the key sequence alt, space, F10, F3, tab, scroll-lock, page-up and end to bring up his open-source AOL chat client. Eric was barely able to situate his notebook and ink his quil before the chat client began to load. Eight minutes later, the client was ready to go.
"hi eric," came the message.
Eagerly, Eric replied, "hi, suzee! how r u tonite?"
"fine, thanks. u r late! i wuz worried!"
Eric scribbled in his notebook, "women like promptness."
"i am sorry :( what did u do today?"
"it's ok..."
"Politeness goes a long way," he wrote.
"... i got in trouble in school becuz i hit this guy becuz he kept pulling my hair :("
"No hair-pulling," he noted.
"so. what grade r u in?" Suzee asked.
Eric blushed. The large beads of sweat began to roll down his face to fall on his keyboard. He wiped his forhead with his hand and picked up more grease from his thin red hair. Shaking, he replied to Suzee, "i am not in school n e more."
"that is kool! what do u do then?"
"Girls like men who are no longer in school," He scribbled, before replying.
"i write about my newfound riches and how open-source is a superior method of software development."
There was a long pause. Eric's leg began to shake nervously. A
Haha, that's great. LOLOLOL
Sun's mismanagement of Java is worth about $500 million in bad publicity for Sun, I'm guessing.
Everybody stand back -- Futurepower(R) has spoken... directly out of his ass.
Honestly, who moderated that crap up?
Ironically, the word ironically is often used incorrectly.
APOCALYPSE
A revised history of the world, in which pollution (both industrial and sentient), bad manners and sea water are conquered.
Part I: In The Beginning
ESR wiped the sweat from his forehead as the fax machine spewed out page after page of complex instruction. It reminded him of sitting on the toilet, burning his penis with the ash of his cigarette as a jet of bile was violently purged from his scorching anus. the horrid memory forced more sweat through his choking pores. ESR wiped the sweat onto his white "Baby Smurf" t-shirt, leaving an impression of his sour, pudgy face.
A long ash formed on ESR's cigarette as he watched the fax machine intently. He jerked spasmodically as the current page neared completion. The cigarette ash broke apart and flurried to the floor. ESR took the page from the fax machine and placed it atop the large stack of papers that had already sputtered through the chattering device. Anxiously, he moved his head over the machine to read the LCD readout.
"4096 pages received OK."
The historic volume was complete.
Part II: Good Things Come To Those Who Wait
In any other story, some very odd behavior on the part of our hero would draw some attention from somewhere. But ESR's peculiar nature was like a blanket instilling invisibility unto its wearer. Nobody paid any attention to his curious ways. It was normal for him to lock himself in his bedroom for months on end. His mother and father never bothered to check on him. They had learned their lesson the day they walked in on him with the rubber chicken and Little Debbie snack cakes.
And so, ESR scavenged the neighborhood at will. Taking whatever crusty metal junk and half-rotten fruit he could scrape from the bottom of the Quick Trip trash barrel. Diligently, he followed the instructions that had been handed to him from above, as if he were Moses on Mt. Sinai. "They should rename me "Dilinger" he thought to himself, as he scratched at a mite on his leg.
Three years of isolation working on the "Dilinger Project" left ESR with hair down to his buttocks. Three years of feasting on stale Little Debbie snack cakes left him with a stomach down to his knees. Three years of molesting a rubber chicken had left him hungry for the salty goodness of a woman's warm nectar.
ESR's historic journey was only just beginning.
Part III: Brotherly Love
ESR stood in the ten square feet of metal he had constructed. The room had an interior glow that seemed to emanate from everywhere. ESR turned about trying to figure out what to do with this object he had constructed. After days of referring to the instructions, after weeks of contemplating the structures around him, ESR noticed a large red button mounted on the wall in front of him. It's large, flashing red letters, "Press Me" triggered something in his mind. He pressed the button.
ESR steadied himself against the wall as the craft began to shake violently. Slowly, he could feel himself being pulled toward the floor. The craft was accelerating upward. After a few moments, the craft steadied and ESR was able to walk about.
A shimmering glow appeared against the wall opposite ESR. He watched with a smile of knowing. The shimmering slowly took form and solidified. ESR wiped a tear from his cheek in anticipation. His mind soared to new heights. He knew his life-mate was arriving.
Before the humanoid form had fully solidified, ESR lunged toward it. His arms opened wide in acceptance. He brought his hands together just as the form fully materialized. ESR puckered his lips and planted an enormous kiss on RMS's white, sweating cheek.
The saltiness of the sweat absorbed into ESR's tongue, sending signals of revolt to his reeling mind. ESR opened his eyes and beheld the gruesome, twisted form of RMS in front of him. He backed against the wall, his hands
"it is better to be pissed off than to be pissed on." aside, you are right about stooping. also, probably about martial arts. i am only handy with guns and relativly primitive explosives.
If Dean was still in the race...the point would still be true. Dean could not have voted against the PATRIOT act as he was not in congress.
I THink what RMS was getting at is that voting against the Patriot act was a politically brave thing to do, and any member of congress willing to do so is worth supporting. I agree, however, that this is not reason enough on its own to support Kucinich over Dean.
Point's moot, I guess. I'll still take Kerry over Bush for President. Hopefully both Kucinich and Dean will end up with powerful positions on the Kerry Whitehouse. Personally, I'd like to see Dean as either Surgeon General or Secretary of Education. But what do I know.
Open Source Identity Management: FreeIPA.org