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A Serious Contender for the Couch Throne
TractorJector writes "It is no secret that the competition for global domination in the operating system market has moved from the desktop to the living room couch. The Olive Symphony, a Linux-powered hi-fi wi-fi stereo hub, stands a decent chance for a prime position before the living room throne."
Bush is a hero of the highest order. The man is a saint. Hail to the chief!
yeah up against the 360 and ps3, this thing stands a prime chance of going nowhere. if linux really wants to get into the living room, they better get into the ps3 before apple does. it is the only chance linux has of surviving ito the living room.
of open-source. if you move a table Rotting corpse first avoid going achieve any of the Join in especially end, we need you NIGGER ASSOCIATION thing for the you can. No, how it was supposed has ground to a is dying. Fact: see... The number problem; a few niggerness? And A BSD box that mutated testicle of and enjoy all the there are about 700 was what got me to make 5ure the fucking confirmed: RAM) for about 20 = 36400 FreeBSD playing so it's do, and with any declined in market
L. Ron said so.
Work on more for the desktop with better usability, ease, and looks. OS X has got you beat on that. Come on already! Every year is year of the Linux desktop. It's like crying wolf!
lol what?
I never thought I'd say that something run by Loli-Queru would be better than anything else, but OSNews is really becoming the place to get these types of news, without the "OMFG TEH SKY IS TEH FALLING!!1!!" bullshit and the ever-prevalent childish attitude.
And yet here I am posting, eh. Sigh.
Web2.0: I love when people Flickr my cuil and digg my boingboing until my google is reddit and I start to yahoo
Faux News
Halliburton
Karl Rove
Fascists!
Michelle Malkin is a Little Brown Fucking Machine Fillipino Nazi fucked out slant pussy whore
Indy Media Noam Chomsky says.......
Ann Coulter
Illegal Immoral War
Linux Roolz
WinDoze droolz
G-5 iBook next week!
But I'm holding out for the new MacIntels
even though AMD is so much better
I went down to the Ethnic Quarter of the Montanan "city" I live in today, which normally consists of approximately three black people. Today, however, was different. Not only were there the normal three black people, but there were a couple of weird Europeans who had apparently gotten lost. On my way into the Cheap Legal Drugs Mart, I happened to overhear their conversation, which went approximately as follows:
"You looka at the state ofa the software industry today, my frien, anda what do you see? You see a biga ball of the shit. That'sa what you see."
The other guy didn't say anything, probably because he was too busy staring at a woman across the street. Still, it got me thinking. What up with that software industry, anyway?
As I went home that night, I couldn't shake the image of the slobbering man from my mind. While I watched for the umpteenth time the Juiceman Juicer infomercial formed by a beam of electrons refreshing half the screen 60 times a second, I suddenly realized that I could make money off this concept if I went around the country making speeches about what up with that software industry. I looked at the room around me. Filled with empty beer bottles and crinkled pornography magazines dating back to the late 1970's, I realized that sinking all of my money into the simple pleasures in life brought me all the satisfaction that I ever needed.
Oh, right, the software part. Yeah, anyway, I thought back to when I was a little kid and how I used to love the circus. I didn't like the lions, or the stupid gymnasts, or the evil foul-smelling clowns. What I liked were the freaks. They helped remind me that there were people in the world who were even more pathetic than myself. I especially liked the midget. His bulging little eyes used to follow me around my room, his stained leotard a constant reminder to the audience that bladder control is essential to functioning as a part of society.
I wondered what that little man got paid. Probably sub-minimum wage. My parents used to feel guilty when they walked by him. He had a little tattered hat next to him with a small card taped in front that simply stated, "Donations." It was always empty, except for a couple of pennies. "The horrible way that circus treats that poor man," my mother always said. "If he didn't like it, he'd work somewhere else," my father would respond gruffly, his mono-brow dipped downward in the middle. They never put anything in the hat.
Other days, we used to go to the museum. There were many things to look at when we went there, but the ones I most liked to observe were the dinosaurs. They were so huge and fierce. They reminded me that there were forces in life stronger even than parents. The big, bony structures didn't really tell me much, though. What I really liked to look at were the turds. They were these gigantic, ellipsoid masses. I could almost touch them except for a thin pane of Plexiglas. The small brass plate called it "excrement" or "feces" but I knew better; it was a turd, nothing less. I would dream about going in there at night, shattering the barrier, and taking the mass home with me. It wasn't scatological or anything. What I really wanted to do was drop it on a car from the overpass. Those cinder blocks did hardly any damage on the hardtops and hitting the windshield was nearly impossible from such an angle.
The midget was a lot like free software. True, getting into the carnival wasn't free, so I guess that's like the hardware. But you could look at the midget all you liked. You could take pictures of the midget and bring them home. He modified himself sometimes; you'd see a new stain every time the carnival came in town. He'd get a little older, a little uglier. Back when I was a kid it was really cool, but if I went there today to see the midget, I wouldn't even care. There are better things to do with one's afternoon than to go look at a midget.
The fossilized dinosaur turd was a lot like commercial software. It was big and robust. It was well supported by a velveteen cush