Slashdot Mirror
Exegesis 7 Released (Perl 6 Text Formatting)
chromatic writes "Perl.com has just published Exegesis 7, Damian Conway's explanation of how text formatting will work Perl 6 (and now, Perl 5, thanks to his Perl6::Form module) will work. Think of it as Perl 1 for the 21st century. Also, Parrot 0.1.0, the virtual machine for Perl 6 and several other dynamic languages, released on Leap Day -- ever wanted to program in an object oriented assembly language?"
n00b lol
Not especially, but I hear Goatse Man really enjoys it. And I mean REALLY enjoys it.
Ah well, back to coding...
code me a sammich bitch, im hungry
Xenu implanted my body thetans liberally. He strapped them onto a ribbon on Teegeack and couldn't stop bombing them. He was performing engram implants. I couldnt believe what the fuck was going on. I told Xenu the Loyal Officers would not approve of a Galactic Overlord dealing with overpopulation in such a manner.
It doesn't help at all that Xenu has been spun out after associating with Renegades and wasting his money building DC-8 space rockets. He can hardly see straight being imprisoned under a mountain by the Loyal Officers.
After I realised this, I formed the $cientologists, and when I woke up my bank account had millions of dollars in it. Can you believe this?
But I Just Love My Text Editor
..." And I typed the following:
... (sort of)
People get awfully fond of their favourite text editor and/or word processor. In fact some people get more fond of their word processor than than their dogs. And that's a big wrap from a dog owner. Many people use their editor or word processor as the principal means of interacting with a computer and with other people. So it's not surprising that most people prefer to be familiar with such an important tool. It's no fun having to re-learn all those basic key-strokes which become second nature after continual use of a Word Processor.
I have been using vi for so long I don't have to think about the common navigation commands. Most users who try using this quirky little editor will gain the impression that it comes from another era. Something like vi could only evolve in an environment that utilised qwerty keyboards as the primary means of input. GUI editors generally have a bland personality, because many of them evolved in the last two decades of the twentieth century, which were very competitive environments for those types of software. At this time the PC market was expanding rapidly and the emphasis was on establishing a market niche. To a certain extent, this resulted in a dumbed-down interface. The emphasis was on ease-of-use and a look and feel that was idiomatic for the age of the mouse. It is unlikely that an editor like vi, with it's terse command syntax, would have evolved in this environment. Vi has been built with many assumptions. One example is the inclusion of the command set used by it's predecessor, ed (or more correctly ex as the extended version of ed is called). This assumes that the user is familiar with ed. It is also obvious that the designers of ed and vi assumed that a user would be familiar with regular expressions.
Many years ago, I was engaged in a conversation/debate with a younger programmer who had recently completed a course on Unix. He was bad-mouthing my favourite editor. The conversation turned to macros and programmability and he praised emacs. Today's generation of programmers probably find it rather strange that anyone could get excited about which is the better editor, vi or emacs. It probably seems like arguing about the number of angels that can dance on a pin. Still when we got down to specifics, and here I am going to have to invent something because I have actually forgotten what the specific example was. But let's suppose he said something like "There is no command in vi to read the rest of this file and print the second last word on the lines that end with a semicolon, whereas I could write a macro in emacs to do this and that and blah blah yada yada yada".
I couldn't allow this to go with out a response. "Oh but vi can do it too!", I replied, "you can just enter a command like this
!Gawk '/;$/{print $(NF-1)}'
He was amazed that a single command could transform the file exactly as requested. He shook his head and muttered "They never showed me anything like that on the Unix course!". I was feeling so smug about striking another blow in the great editor war, that I missed the opportunity to tell him that vi can also handle macros. Ok, I cheated. Since I learned touch typing I can type commands quickly, and he may not have noticed that the line I typed look more like a cat walked on the keyboard than a command. And strictly speaking it was not really a vi command at all, although it is true that vi has an exceptionally rich command set, and a nice set of knockers like pamella anderson. Still if you don't want to use one of the visual commands, there are the cryptic but very versatile ex-wives. And one of the most useful commands in visual mode is the '!'. This gives you access to a full suite of shell commands. It means that, with a little imagination you can transform huge chunks of text with instructions like the awk one-liner above, while remaining in the same edit session. Now before you label me as vi-bigot, I should also boast that I have used emacs. Ok, it was really micro-emacs, and I only used it because it was all that was available with the Mark Williams C suite for Atari computers. But I have used it
It's said that the best gift is a gift of the self. But the woman at the center of my life has taught me there's a higher level yet -- the selfless gift of someone else.
I was lucky. I found Kelly early, and escaped playing the endless, frustrating games, haunting the bars and beaches and exercise clubs. She's my best friend, playmate, confidant, refuge.
She's shared my bed for four years, my house for three, and my thoughts, it seems, for a thousand. Sometimes it seems as though
everything I know about myself came to me through her.
Lucky, too, because it's hard to imagine a more satisfying
love partner. I've known two kinds of passion. The first is like a
carefully built hearth fire, warm and satisfying, but measured and
controlled. The other is what Kelly and I have -- a wildfire,
unplanned and unpredictable.
Kelly's look, her touch, her voice are all charged with a
rich, joyful sensuality. She can take control with an earthy lust
or give herself up in elegant surrender. And she has the magic
secret of involving herself fully in her lovemaking, focusing her
energy, freeing her senses.
In short, she's been everything that any one woman can be --
imaginative, enthusiastic, a many-faceted gem. The only thing
Kelly can't be is someone else. That may not sound like much of a
limitation. It didn't sound like much of one to me, either --
until I met Cassie.
#
It was supposed to be a quiet little three-day trip to
Washington. A college in Olympia had asked Kelly to conduct a
seminar in her specialty, women's history. I went along to share
the driving and escape for a while from the world of blueprints,
bids, and budgets where I made my living.
One of Kelly's faults is that she'll never pay for a hotel
when she can impose on a friend. Cassie, she explained, lived on
the Olympic Peninsula, twenty miles from the city and thirty miles
from the Pacific Coast.
"I haven't seen her for three years. I'll bet she'd be glad to
put us up."
Remembering past lumpy beds and crowded bathrooms, I asked
dubiously, "Are you sure?"
"Don't worry," was the cheery reply. "You'll like Cassie."
I clung to that feeble promise when Kelly realized an hour
into the trip that she'd forgotten her presentation slides, and
when the air-conditioner on the Rabbit died before we reached the
Oregon border. It wasn't much comfort. I was hot and road-weary
and wishing I'd stayed home by the time we crept up the winding
forest road to the tiny natural-wood A-frame perched on the
hillside.
But when I turned the key off and escaped from my seat, the
beauty of the fir-covered hills improved my outlook. Cassie
improved it even more. She came bounding down the steps from the
front deck in white shorts and a bikini top and greeted us both
with enthusiastic hugs.
The hug she gave me ran about three seconds long and fifty
watts hot, and left my senses jangling. Cassie was a couple of
years older and a couple of inches taller than Kelly, with a mane
of black hair and a lightly-tanned body that was classically lush
and rounded. Her smile was playful, her eyes full of life. Hugging
her was like putting your finger in a light socket, and the
feeling didn't go away when she let go.
I caught Kelly looking at me with a what-did-I-tell-you-look,
and I acknowledged her sagacity with a nod. I already liked
Cassie. In fact, I liked her more than it seemed wise to let Kelly
know.
#
By the time I emerged from Cassie's shower, dinner was nearly
ready, and the women were well along in the kind of catching-up
friends who have been apart do. It was a frank, funny, gossipy
conversation about jobs, friends in common, the men in their lives
-- myself included. I enjoyed listening -- and, yes, looking at
Cassie -- so much that I didn't mind being the third wheel.
Kelly's fatigue and
Fuck shit damn bitch whore cock ass motherfucker godamn bitch fuck shit shit shit fuck motherfucker godamn son of a bitch damn bitch whore godamn bitch fuck shit shit shit fuck motherfucker
Warning! That post is secretly a troll! MOD HIM DOWN