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Colossus Cipher Challenge Winner On Ada
An anonymous reader writes "Colossus Cipher Challenge winner Joachim Schueth talks about why he settled on Ada as his language of choice to unravel a code transmitted from the Heinz Nixdorf Museum in Germany, from a Lorenz SZ42 Cipher machine (used by the German High Command to relay secret messages during the World War II). 'Ada allowed me to concisely express the algorithms I wanted to implement.'"
From heretical.com:
MALE PRIORITY. Of course, another immediately obvious explanation for F25D3's flitting off while I was still in mid-sentence exists. It is that my conversation was unbearably boring and F25D3 had withdrawn to escape the tedium, or there may have been some other defect in my presentation. By way of response I state explicitly here that:
1. I don't believe that my conversation was boring, and in any event my conversation had certainly not been considered so by F25D3 when we had met previously and a hint had been given. I knew it to be true that people with specialized skills could be monotonous, and had even found some of my own friends so on occasion. Although such people might be thought dull, the information and skills they had were useful.
2. Compared to the utter trivia which seems to circulate in the minds of all but a tiny proportion of females, almost anything was an improvement. Even in a technologically advanced society such as the one in which we currently live, females seemed to think that their inconsequential conversations about relationships and similar immature tittle-tattle were equal to male conversations about abstract concepts and objects. [amen brotha]
3. As a male I was a wealth creator rather than (as the female) a net consumer, and reasoned that as such my desires should have priority over those of females.
4. The relatively safe and comfortable society from which females were now unreservedly taking benefit had been created by my male forebears, people like me, and their success demonstrated that my desires had more validity. The females were taking advantage of male efforts as blithely and unthinkingly as someone who believes that the blowing of a whistle is the power which sets a train in motion.
5. Whether by the medical research I had done, the organization I ran or by this study I was contributing in at least a small way to the advancement of humankind. Not only did this reinforce my conviction that my male desires should be honoured, in preference to those of females, but in addition I resented the pressure I was clearly under to indulge in dishonesty and trickery in order to fulfil my desires, especially since such dishonesty of thought, for example by selective perception and distortion of truth, was directly antagonistic to such advancement.
CmdrTaco here. A few years ago, while browsing around the library downtown, I had to take a piss. As I entered the john, a big beautiful all-American football hero type, about twenty five, came out of one of the booths. I stood at the urinal looking at him out of the corner of my eye as he washed his hands. He didn't once look at me. He was "straight" and married -- and in any case I was sure I wouldn't have a chance with him.
As soon as he left, I darted into the booth he'd vacated, hoping there might be a lingering smell of shit and even a seat still warm from his sturdy young ass. I found not only the smell but the shit itself. He'd forgotten to flush. And what a treasure he had left behind. Three or four beautiful specimens floated in the bowl. It apparently had been a fairly dry, constipated shit, for all were fat, stiff, and ruggedly textured. The real prize was a great feast of turd -- a nine inch gastrointestinal triumph as thick as a man's wrist. I knelt before the bowl, inhaling the rich brown fragrance and wondered if I should obey the impulse building up inside me. I'd always been a heavy rimmer and had lapped up more than one little clump of shit, but that had been just an inevitable part of eating ass and not an end in itself.
Of course I'd had jerkoff fantasies of devouring great loads of it (what rimmer hasn't?), but I had never done it. Now, here I was, confronted with the most beautiful five-pound turd I'd ever feasted my eyes on, a sausage fit to star in any fantasy and one I knew to have been hatched from the asshole of the world's handsomest young stud.
Why not? I plucked it from the bowl, holding it with both hands to keep it from breaking.
I lifted it to my nose. It smelled like rich, ripe limburger (horrid, but thrilling), yet had the consistency of cheddar. What is cheese anyway but milk turning to shit without the benefit of a digestive tract? I gave it a lick and found that it tasted better then it smelled. I've found since then that shit nearly almost does. I hesitated no longer. I shoved the fucking thing as far into my mouth as I could get it and sucked on it like a big brown cock, beating my meat like a madman. I wanted to completely engulf it and bit off a large chunk, flooding my mouth with the intense, bittersweet flavor. To my delight I found that while the water in the bowl had chilled the outside of the turd, it was still warm inside. As I chewed I discovered that it was filled with hard little bits of something I soon identified as peanuts. He hadn't chewed them carefully and they'd passed through his body virtually unchanged. I ate it greedily, sending lump after peanutty lump sliding scratchily down my throat. My only regret was the donor of this feast wasn't there to wash it down with his piss. I soon reached a terrific climax. I caught my cum in the cupped palm of my hand and drank it down. Believe me, there is no more delightful combination of flavors than the hot sweetness of cum with the rich bitterness of shit. Afterwards I was sorry that I hadn't made it last longer. But then I realized that I still had a lot of fun in store for me. There was still a clutch of virile turds left in the bowl. I tenderly fished them out, rolled them into my hankercheif, and stashed them in my briefcase.
In the week to come I found all kinds of ways to eat the shit without bolting it right down. Once eaten it's gone forever unless you want to filch it third hand out of your own asshole -- not an unreasonable recourse in moments of desperation or simple boredom.
I stored the turds in the refrigerator when I was not using them but within a week they were all gone.
The last one I held in my mouth without chewing, letting it slowly dissolve. I had liquid shit trickling down my throat for nearly four hours. I must have had six orgasms in the process. I often think of that lovely young guy dropping solid gold out of his sweet, pink asshole every day, never knowing what joy it could, and at least once did,bring to a grateful shiteater.