Some years ago, I was snooping around in the cabinets that housed the MIT AI Lab's PDP-10, and noticed a little switch glued to the frame of one cabinet. It was obviously a homebrew job, added by one of the lab's hardware hackers (no one knows who).
You don't touch an unknown switch on a computer without knowing what it does, because you might crash the computer. The switch was labeled in a most unhelpful way. It had two positions, and scrawled in pencil on the metal switch body were the words `magic' and `more magic'. The switch was in the `more magic' position.
I called another hacker over to look at it. He had never seen the switch before either. Closer examination revealed that the switch had only one wire running to it! The other end of the wire did disappear into the maze of wires inside the computer, but it's a basic fact of electricity that a switch can't do anything unless there are two wires connected to it. This switch had a wire connected on one side and no wire on its other side.
It was clear that this switch was someone's idea of a silly joke. Convinced by our reasoning that the switch was inoperative, we flipped it. The computer instantly crashed.
Imagine our utter astonishment. We wrote it off as coincidence, but nevertheless restored the switch to the `more magic' position before reviving the computer.
A year later, I told this story to yet another hacker, David Moon as I recall. He clearly doubted my sanity, or suspected me of a supernatural belief in the power of this switch, or perhaps thought I was fooling him with a bogus saga. To prove it to him, I showed him the very switch, still glued to the cabinet frame with only one wire connected to it, still in the `more magic' position. We scrutinized the switch and its lone connection, and found that the other end of the wire, though connected to the computer wiring, was connected to a ground pin. That clearly made the switch doubly useless: not only was it electrically nonoperative, but it was connected to a place that couldn't affect anything anyway. So we flipped the switch.
The computer promptly crashed.
This time we ran for Richard Greenblatt, a long-time MIT hacker, who was close at hand. He had never noticed the switch before, either. He inspected it, concluded it was useless, got some diagonal cutters and diked it out. We then revived the computer and it has run fine ever since.
We still don't know how the switch crashed the machine. There is a theory that some circuit near the ground pin was marginal, and flipping the switch changed the electrical capacitance enough to upset the circuit as millionth-of-a-second pulses went through it. But we'll never know for sure; all we can really say is that the switch was magic.
I still have that switch in my basement. Maybe I'm silly, but I usually keep it set on `more magic'.
1994: Another explanation of this story has since been offered. Note that the switch body was metal. Suppose that the non-connected side of the switch was connected to the switch body (usually the body is connected to a separate earth lug, but there are exceptions). The body is connected to the computer case, which is, presumably, grounded. Now the circuit ground within the machine isn't necessarily at the same potential as the case ground, so flipping the switch connected the circuit ground to the case ground, causing a voltage drop/jump which reset the machine. This was probably discovered by someone who found out the hard way that there was a potential difference between the two, and who then wired in the switch as a joke.
When Lt. Barkley missed his weekly appointment, Counselor Deanna Troi decided to check up on him.'Computer, where is Lt. Barkley?'
'Lt. Barkley is in Holodeck Three'came the smooth voice of the computer.Deanna pursed her lips in annoyance.Reg was supposed to be staying away from the holodecks and should have required special permission to use them.On the other hand, Reg was also a very good engineer and could probably bypass any safeguards that were put on them.Troi signed and got up, heading out the door and for Holodeck Three.When she arrived, the computer (as she expected) would not let her in.
'Computer.Command code override Troi Alpha Beta 7 Gamma.'The holodeck doors swept open and closed behind Deanna as she entered.It took a few seconds for her to orientate herself as she emerged into a loud boisterous bar scene out of late 20th century earth.As she grew accustomed to the sounds, she heard moaning and gagging sounds coming from a pool table around which a dozen or so men were gathered.Unable to see what the men were watching, Troi pushed her way through to the front and stopped in shock.
She saw herself lying on the pool table.Naked.More than naked, she had one cock shoved up her ass, another in her pussy and a monster dick being shoved down her throat...hence the gagging sounds she had heard.Even as the astonished Counselor watched, the big dick fucking her duplicate's face pulled out and a huge load of cum shot all over her face.He was followed shortly by the other cocks fucking her as they emptied loads into the fake Troi while the real Deanna stood watching unable to move.Deanna felt a shiver run through her.....a mixture of disgust and lust as she watched the three men climb off her duplicate, leaving her lying there covered in their cum.
It was about then that the men gathered around the table noticed Deanna.'Whoooeee, the slut has got a twin sister!' said one man rubbing the bulge in his pants.Troi tried to back away from the circle of men, but rough hands grabbed her and thrust her up onto the pool table to lie beside her duplicate.
'Computer end program!' called out Troi as she found herself face to face with her cum slicked twin who was gaping at her in astonishment.
'Unable to comply.Voice overrides deactivated.' came the smooth computer voice.
Oh oh thought Deanna as she tried to scramble off the table.Reg is going to get such a piece of my mind when I find him.
'Hey, where you going honey?' asked one of the men around the table.He pushed her back down beside her duplicate.'Give your sister a kiss!'
Both of the Troi's eyes bulged out in horror as their faces were pushed together.A soft 'No' escaped both their lips simultaneously just as their lips brushed together.Apparently her duplicate had been programmed to act as much like the real thing as Reg could manage thought Deanna as their lips were mashed harshly together and she found herselfkissing her cum covered duplicate.She felt hands tugging at her uniform and as the two women were forced together, Deanna literally had her clothing ripped off.When all was said and done, she found herself naked and lying on top of her duplicate, kissing her hard on the mouth.The other Troi's cum smeared breasts felt warm under her and it took Deanna several seconds to realize she was no longer being held in place by the men.They had stepped back a bit to watch the two identical women kissing.Deanna felt her eyes go wide with astonishment as she realized that this was starting to turn her on and below her, her duplicate's face mirrored that astonishment.
Almost as if it had a mind of its own, Deanna's mouth began to trail down the neck of her twin until she reached a puddle of cum on the holo-Deanna's tits which she licked at.
'Stop, we shouldn't be doing this,' moaned her twin.'This is wrong...it is worse than incest.....ahhhhhh'.
'Yes...yes it is,' agreed Deanna but she didn't stop licking the boobs of her duplicate.In fact, she began to lick and suck on them with even greater lust.The shiver of taboo swept over her.A small part of her mind nagged at her for lying there naked on top of a holo duplicate of herself, in essence making lesbian love to herself while a bar full of rough looking men watched her degrade herself.Maybe she could have stopped herself yet, but at that moment her duplicate's fingers slipped into Deanna's pussy and began to stroke her clit.Deanna gave a loud moan of pleasure and then bent her head back down to lick and suck with renewed enthusiasm at the tits of her twin.
Deanna felt one hand of her duplicate slide in and out of her pussy while the other one cupped her ass and drew Deanna down on top of her harder.Deanna no longer cared how wrong or forbidden what she was doing was, but just wanted to kiss and lick and be kissed and licked by this warm body underneath her.The two women broke their embrace as if with one mind and reformed into a 69 with the real Deanna Troi on top.Her mouth dipped into her duplicate's pussy and began to lick without hesitation at the mixture of pussy juices and cum she found there.For her own part, she was dripping wet now and her twin was licking furiously at her pussy which sent huge waves of pleasure through Deanna.
Heaving and writhing with ecstasy, Deanna finally came to her climax and she felt a similar shudder run through her duplicate at precisely the same moment.For long shuddering moments, Deanna lay there and then reality drifted back in the form of the men laughing, whistling and clapping.Oh my god, what have I done she thought as she looked around the circle of men, several of them who had their cocks out and were stroking them at the lesbian play of the counselor and her twin.
There was little time for remorse, however, as one of the men grabbed Deanna and pulled her head down onto his cock.The thick head pushed between her lips and Troi gagged slightly as he forced it further down her throat.Out of the corner of her eye, Deanna could see her duplicate being forced to blow another huge cock.Deanna knew the look of fear, mixed with lust and shame was mirrored on her own face as the cock slid in and out of her soft lips.Side by side the two women were forced to swallow the large cocks.Hands held their heads in places and forced them up and down in a steady rhythm on the face choking meat.The man fucking her face was moaning loudly and Deanna knew he was close to cumming.He is only a hologram she tried to reassure herself but then his cum flooded down her throat and it tasted very real.She saw that her duplicate was choking down her own huge load.
The cock pulled out of her mouth with a popping sound and some cum dribbled down her chin as Deanna lay there exhausted.Then she felt hands lifting her and before she knew it she felt herself being lowered onto a hard cock that slid up her ass.Then her breath was taken away as another cock slipped into her pussy and she found her the meat in a cock sandwich.As she opened her mouth to complain, another big sausage was shoved inside and she realized she was duplicating the scene she had first stumbled into.Sure enough, beside her on the table, her duplicate was getting the same triple treatment.The three cocks drove in and out of Deanna with unrelenting force and with uncanny timing as each cock drove to its deepest point at exactly the same time.The cocks in her ass and pussy seemed to be touching on each stroke while the one in her mouth was jammed twelve inches down her throat.The helpless counselor could do nothing but lie there being ravaged by the three hard cocks until finally with a repeat of the scene she had walked in on as the cock in her mouth pulled out and spewed its thick load over her face, followed a moment later by the surge of cum into her pussy and ass.
Deanna lay there on the pool table, table with cum dripping down her face wondering what was going to happen next when she heard a gasp from the back of the room and a figure hurried forward.It was Lt. Reg Barkley and he pushed his way through the crowd of men.Apparently he had been off to the holo-washroom or wherever and had missed the entrance of the counselor.'Oh my,' he said looking down at the two nude women.'Computer, I didn't order a second Counselor Troi.'
'I'm the real Counselor Troi Reg, said Deanna trying to cover her naked body and then giving up since he had obviously programmed this scene and her nude body was no stranger to him.
'Sigh.Just what I need,' muttered Reg.'A glitch in the holomatrix so the holograms think they are real.I better fix that right away before someone investigates.Computer.End Program.'
The computer was apparently programmed to respond only to Reg and the bar scene faded away into the black walls and yellow lines of the holodeck.The naked and cum covered Deanna was still there.
Reg looked around in puzzlement.'Computer, why is there still one of the holograms present after I told you to shut down the program.'
'The program is no longer running,' intoned the computer.
'Reg!I am the real Counselor Troi,' seethed Deanna.'You missed your appointment and I came looking for you only to get raped by your holoprogram!I will expect you in my office in one hour for a very long session of counseling.You are even more deeply disturbed than I realized!'With that Deanna turned and marched out of the holodeck.In her anger she had forgot she was stark naked and a couple of ensigns got quite an eyeful as she marched past them.A chagrined Deanna looked down at her nude body when she saw their stares.Oh well, she thought, at least the holo-cum had disappeared when she left the holodeck!
when we were kids and used windoze, we used to have our own v3rs10n of w1nd0z3. All it took was "borland resource editor" and free time (which was abundant these days)
A recent article devoted to the *macho* side of programming made the bald and unvarnished statement:
Real Programmers write in FORTRAN.
Maybe they do now, in this decadent era of Lite beer, hand calculators and "user-friendly" software but back in the Good Old Days, when the term "software" sounded funny and Real Computers were made out of drums and vacuum tubes, Real Programmers wrote in machine code. Not Fortran. Not RATFOR. Not, even, assembly language. Machine Code.Raw, unadorned, inscrutable hexadecimal numbers. Directly.
Lest a whole new generation of programmers grow up in ignorance of this glorious past, I feel duty-bound to describe, as best I can through the generation gap, how a Real Programmer wrote code. I'll call him Mel, because that was his name.
I first met Mel when I went to work for Royal McBee Computer Corp., a now-defunct subsidiary of the typewriter company. The firm manufactured the LGP-30, a small, cheap (by the standards of the day) drum-memory computer, and had just started to manufacture the RPC-4000, a much-improved, bigger, better, faster -- drum-memory computer. Cores cost too much, and weren't here to stay, anyway. (That's why you haven't heard of the company, or the computer.)
I had been hired to write a Fortran compiler for this new marvel and Mel was my guide to its wonders. Mel didn't approve of compilers.
"If a program can't rewrite its own code," he asked, "what good is it?"
Mel had written, in hexadecimal, the most popular computer program the company owned. It ran on the LGP-30 and played blackjack with potential customers at computer shows. Its effect was always dramatic. The LGP-30 booth was packed at every show, and the IBM salesmen stood around talking to each other. Whether or not this actually sold computers was a question we never discussed.
Mel's job was to re-write the blackjack program for the RPC-4000. (Port? What does that mean?) The new computer had a one-plus-one addressing scheme, in which each machine instruction, in addition to the operation code and the address of the needed operand, had a second address that indicated where, on the revolving drum, the next instruction was located. In modern parlance, every single instruction was followed by a GO TO! Put *that* in Pascal's pipe and smoke it.
Mel loved the RPC-4000 because he could optimize his code: that is, locate instructions on the drum so that just as one finished its job, the next would be just arriving at the "read head" and available for immediate execution. There was a program to do that job, an "optimizing assembler", but Mel refused to use it.
"You never know where it's going to put things", he explained, "so you'd have to use separate constants".
It was a long time before I understood that remark. Since Mel knew the numerical value of every operation code, and assigned his own drum addresses, every instruction he wrote could also be considered a numerical constant. He could pick up an earlier "add" instruction, say, and multiply by it, if it had the right numeric value. His code was not easy for someone else to modify.
I compared Mel's hand-optimized programs with the same code massaged by the optimizing assembler program, and Mel's always ran faster. That was because the "top-down" method of program design hadn't been invented yet, and Mel wouldn't have used it anyway. He wrote the innermost parts of his program loops first, so they would get first choice of the optimum address locations on the drum. The optimizing assembler wasn't smart enough to do it that way.
Mel never wrote time-delay loops, either, even when the balky Flexowriter required a delay between output characters to work right. He just located instructions on the drum so each successive one was just *past* the read head when it was needed; the drum had to execute another complete revolution to find the next instruction. He coined an unforgettable term for this procedure. Although "optimum" is an absolute term, like "unique", it became common verbal practice to make it relative: "not quite optimum" or "less optimum" or "not very optimum". Mel called the maximum time-delay locations the "most pessimum".
After he finished the blackjack program and got it to run, ("Even the initializer is optimized", he said proudly) he got a Change Request from the sales department. The program used an elegant (optimized) random number generator to shuffle the "cards" and deal from the "deck", and some of the salesmen felt it was too fair, since sometimes the customers lost. They wanted Mel to modify the program so, at the setting of a sense switch on the console, they could change the odds and let the customer win.
Mel balked. He felt this was patently dishonest, which it was, and that it impinged on his personal integrity as a programmer, which it did, so he refused to do it. The Head Salesman talked to Mel, as did the Big Boss and, at the boss's urging, a few Fellow Programmers. Mel finally gave in and wrote the code, but he got the test backwards, and, when the sense switch was turned on, the program would cheat, winning every time. Mel was delighted with this, claiming his subconscious was uncontrollably ethical, and adamantly refused to fix it.
After Mel had left the company for greener pa$ture$, the Big Boss asked me to look at the code and see if I could find the test and reverse it. Somewhat reluctantly, I agreed to look. Tracking Mel's code was a real adventure.
I have often felt that programming is an art form, whose real value can only be appreciated by another versed in the same arcane art; there are lovely gems and brilliant coups hidden from human view and admiration, sometimes forever, by the very nature of the process. You can learn a lot about an individual just by reading through his code, even in hexadecimal. Mel was, I think, an unsung genius.
Perhaps my greatest shock came when I found an innocent loop that had no test in it. No test. *None*. Common sense said it had to be a closed loop, where the program would circle, forever, endlessly. Program control passed right through it, however, and safely out the other side. It took me two weeks to figure it out.
The RPC-4000 computer had a really modern facility called an index register. It allowed the programmer to write a program loop that used an indexed instruction inside; each time through, the number in the index register was added to the address of that instruction, so it would refer to the next datum in a series. He had only to increment the index register each time through. Mel never used it.
Instead, he would pull the instruction into a machine register, add one to its address, and store it back. He would then execute the modified instruction right from the register. The loop was written so this additional execution time was taken into account -- just as this instruction finished, the next one was right under the drum's read head, ready to go. But the loop had no test in it.
The vital clue came when I noticed the index register bit, the bit that lay between the address and the operation code in the instruction word, was turned on-- yet Mel never used the index register, leaving it zero all the time. When the light went on it nearly blinded me.
He had located the data he was working on near the top of memory -- the largest locations the instructions could address -- so, after the last datum was handled, incrementing the instruction address would make it overflow. The carry would add one to the operation code, changing it to the next one in the instruction set: a jump instruction. Sure enough, the next program instruction was in address location zero, and the program went happily on its way.
I haven't kept in touch with Mel, so I don't know if he ever gave in to the flood of change that has washed over programming techniques since those long-gone days. I like to think he didn't. In any event, I was impressed enough that I quit looking for the offending test, telling the Big Boss I couldn't find it. He didn't seem surprised.
When I left the company, the blackjack program would still cheat if you turned on the right sense switch, and I think that's how it should be. I didn't feel comfortable hacking up the code of a Real Programmer.
Slashdot Mirror
well said.
well, dude, if Klerck found a PWP that works only in IE, I have 2 words to say:
KICK ASS!
Sorry, dude, but you look like a luser. Quit whining and get some other browser than that PIECE OF SHIT you are using right now.
And no, please no flames on IE x whatever. IE is shit, no matter how much you dudes whine.
> an negroe
Where the hell is the grammar nazi?
it didn't work (at least on NS6.2)
keep trying tough.
the order of the posts (oldest first) is all messed up.
Fixit you damn amateurs. Bet you run mysql (pfft) behind this site.
Some years ago, I was snooping around in the cabinets that housed the MIT AI Lab's PDP-10, and noticed a little switch glued to the frame of one cabinet. It was obviously a homebrew job, added by one of the lab's hardware hackers (no one knows who).
You don't touch an unknown switch on a computer without knowing what it does, because you might crash the computer. The switch was labeled in a most unhelpful way. It had two positions, and scrawled in pencil on the metal switch body were the words `magic' and `more magic'. The switch was in the `more magic' position.
I called another hacker over to look at it. He had never seen the switch before either. Closer examination revealed that the switch had only one wire running to it! The other end of the wire did disappear into the maze of wires inside the computer, but it's a basic fact of electricity that a switch can't do anything unless there are two wires connected to it. This switch had a wire connected on one side and no wire on its other side.
It was clear that this switch was someone's idea of a silly joke. Convinced by our reasoning that the switch was inoperative, we flipped it. The computer instantly crashed.
Imagine our utter astonishment. We wrote it off as coincidence, but nevertheless restored the switch to the `more magic' position before reviving the computer.
A year later, I told this story to yet another hacker, David Moon as I recall. He clearly doubted my sanity, or suspected me of a supernatural belief in the power of this switch, or perhaps thought I was fooling him with a bogus saga. To prove it to him, I showed him the very switch, still glued to the cabinet frame with only one wire connected to it, still in the `more magic' position. We scrutinized the switch and its lone connection, and found that the other end of the wire, though connected to the computer wiring, was connected to a ground pin. That clearly made the switch doubly useless: not only was it electrically nonoperative, but it was connected to a place that couldn't affect anything anyway. So we flipped the switch.
The computer promptly crashed.
This time we ran for Richard Greenblatt, a long-time MIT hacker, who was close at hand. He had never noticed the switch before, either. He inspected it, concluded it was useless, got some diagonal cutters and diked it out. We then revived the computer and it has run fine ever since.
We still don't know how the switch crashed the machine. There is a theory that some circuit near the ground pin was marginal, and flipping the switch changed the electrical capacitance enough to upset the circuit as millionth-of-a-second pulses went through it. But we'll never know for sure; all we can really say is that the switch was magic.
I still have that switch in my basement. Maybe I'm silly, but I usually keep it set on `more magic'.
1994: Another explanation of this story has since been offered. Note that the switch body was metal. Suppose that the non-connected side of the switch was connected to the switch body (usually the body is connected to a separate earth lug, but there are exceptions). The body is connected to the computer case, which is, presumably, grounded. Now the circuit ground within the machine isn't necessarily at the same potential as the case ground, so flipping the switch connected the circuit ground to the case ground, causing a voltage drop/jump which reset the machine. This was probably discovered by someone who found out the hard way that there was a potential difference between the two, and who then wired in the switch as a joke.
I'd like to propose a toast to all trollish mates around /. to celebrate my recent un-banishment.
pr0st!
Jeebus, you just screwed me up.
Anyway, take this:
When Lt. Barkley missed his weekly appointment, Counselor Deanna Troi decided to check up on him.'Computer, where is Lt. Barkley?'
'Lt. Barkley is in Holodeck Three'came the smooth voice of the computer.Deanna pursed her lips in annoyance.Reg was supposed to be staying away from the holodecks and should have required special permission to use them.On the other hand, Reg was also a very good engineer and could probably bypass any safeguards that were put on them.Troi signed and got up, heading out the door and for Holodeck Three.When she arrived, the computer (as she expected) would not let her in.
'Computer.Command code override Troi Alpha Beta 7 Gamma.'The holodeck doors swept open and closed behind Deanna as she entered.It took a few seconds for her to orientate herself as she emerged into a loud boisterous bar scene out of late 20th century earth.As she grew accustomed to the sounds, she heard moaning and gagging sounds coming from a pool table around which a dozen or so men were gathered.Unable to see what the men were watching, Troi pushed her way through to the front and stopped in shock.
She saw herself lying on the pool table.Naked.More than naked, she had one cock shoved up her ass, another in her pussy and a monster dick being shoved down her throat...hence the gagging sounds she had heard.Even as the astonished Counselor watched, the big dick fucking her duplicate's face pulled out and a huge load of cum shot all over her face.He was followed shortly by the other cocks fucking her as they emptied loads into the fake Troi while the real Deanna stood watching unable to move.Deanna felt a shiver run through her.....a mixture of disgust and lust as she watched the three men climb off her duplicate, leaving her lying there covered in their cum.
It was about then that the men gathered around the table noticed Deanna.'Whoooeee, the slut has got a twin sister!' said one man rubbing the bulge in his pants.Troi tried to back away from the circle of men, but rough hands grabbed her and thrust her up onto the pool table to lie beside her duplicate.
'Computer end program!' called out Troi as she found herself face to face with her cum slicked twin who was gaping at her in astonishment.
'Unable to comply.Voice overrides deactivated.' came the smooth computer voice.
Oh oh thought Deanna as she tried to scramble off the table.Reg is going to get such a piece of my mind when I find him.
'Hey, where you going honey?' asked one of the men around the table.He pushed her back down beside her duplicate.'Give your sister a kiss!'
Both of the Troi's eyes bulged out in horror as their faces were pushed together.A soft 'No' escaped both their lips simultaneously just as their lips brushed together.Apparently her duplicate had been programmed to act as much like the real thing as Reg could manage thought Deanna as their lips were mashed harshly together and she found herselfkissing her cum covered duplicate.She felt hands tugging at her uniform and as the two women were forced together, Deanna literally had her clothing ripped off.When all was said and done, she found herself naked and lying on top of her duplicate, kissing her hard on the mouth.The other Troi's cum smeared breasts felt warm under her and it took Deanna several seconds to realize she was no longer being held in place by the men.They had stepped back a bit to watch the two identical women kissing.Deanna felt her eyes go wide with astonishment as she realized that this was starting to turn her on and below her, her duplicate's face mirrored that astonishment.
Almost as if it had a mind of its own, Deanna's mouth began to trail down the neck of her twin until she reached a puddle of cum on the holo-Deanna's tits which she licked at.
'Stop, we shouldn't be doing this,' moaned her twin.'This is wrong...it is worse than incest.....ahhhhhh'.
'Yes...yes it is,' agreed Deanna but she didn't stop licking the boobs of her duplicate.In fact, she began to lick and suck on them with even greater lust.The shiver of taboo swept over her.A small part of her mind nagged at her for lying there naked on top of a holo duplicate of herself, in essence making lesbian love to herself while a bar full of rough looking men watched her degrade herself.Maybe she could have stopped herself yet, but at that moment her duplicate's fingers slipped into Deanna's pussy and began to stroke her clit.Deanna gave a loud moan of pleasure and then bent her head back down to lick and suck with renewed enthusiasm at the tits of her twin.
Deanna felt one hand of her duplicate slide in and out of her pussy while the other one cupped her ass and drew Deanna down on top of her harder.Deanna no longer cared how wrong or forbidden what she was doing was, but just wanted to kiss and lick and be kissed and licked by this warm body underneath her.The two women broke their embrace as if with one mind and reformed into a 69 with the real Deanna Troi on top.Her mouth dipped into her duplicate's pussy and began to lick without hesitation at the mixture of pussy juices and cum she found there.For her own part, she was dripping wet now and her twin was licking furiously at her pussy which sent huge waves of pleasure through Deanna.
Heaving and writhing with ecstasy, Deanna finally came to her climax and she felt a similar shudder run through her duplicate at precisely the same moment.For long shuddering moments, Deanna lay there and then reality drifted back in the form of the men laughing, whistling and clapping.Oh my god, what have I done she thought as she looked around the circle of men, several of them who had their cocks out and were stroking them at the lesbian play of the counselor and her twin.
There was little time for remorse, however, as one of the men grabbed Deanna and pulled her head down onto his cock.The thick head pushed between her lips and Troi gagged slightly as he forced it further down her throat.Out of the corner of her eye, Deanna could see her duplicate being forced to blow another huge cock.Deanna knew the look of fear, mixed with lust and shame was mirrored on her own face as the cock slid in and out of her soft lips.Side by side the two women were forced to swallow the large cocks.Hands held their heads in places and forced them up and down in a steady rhythm on the face choking meat.The man fucking her face was moaning loudly and Deanna knew he was close to cumming.He is only a hologram she tried to reassure herself but then his cum flooded down her throat and it tasted very real.She saw that her duplicate was choking down her own huge load.
The cock pulled out of her mouth with a popping sound and some cum dribbled down her chin as Deanna lay there exhausted.Then she felt hands lifting her and before she knew it she felt herself being lowered onto a hard cock that slid up her ass.Then her breath was taken away as another cock slipped into her pussy and she found her the meat in a cock sandwich.As she opened her mouth to complain, another big sausage was shoved inside and she realized she was duplicating the scene she had first stumbled into.Sure enough, beside her on the table, her duplicate was getting the same triple treatment.The three cocks drove in and out of Deanna with unrelenting force and with uncanny timing as each cock drove to its deepest point at exactly the same time.The cocks in her ass and pussy seemed to be touching on each stroke while the one in her mouth was jammed twelve inches down her throat.The helpless counselor could do nothing but lie there being ravaged by the three hard cocks until finally with a repeat of the scene she had walked in on as the cock in her mouth pulled out and spewed its thick load over her face, followed a moment later by the surge of cum into her pussy and ass.
Deanna lay there on the pool table, table with cum dripping down her face wondering what was going to happen next when she heard a gasp from the back of the room and a figure hurried forward.It was Lt. Reg Barkley and he pushed his way through the crowd of men.Apparently he had been off to the holo-washroom or wherever and had missed the entrance of the counselor.'Oh my,' he said looking down at the two nude women.'Computer, I didn't order a second Counselor Troi.'
'I'm the real Counselor Troi Reg, said Deanna trying to cover her naked body and then giving up since he had obviously programmed this scene and her nude body was no stranger to him.
'Sigh.Just what I need,' muttered Reg.'A glitch in the holomatrix so the holograms think they are real.I better fix that right away before someone investigates.Computer.End Program.'
The computer was apparently programmed to respond only to Reg and the bar scene faded away into the black walls and yellow lines of the holodeck.The naked and cum covered Deanna was still there.
Reg looked around in puzzlement.'Computer, why is there still one of the holograms present after I told you to shut down the program.'
'The program is no longer running,' intoned the computer.
'Reg!I am the real Counselor Troi,' seethed Deanna.'You missed your appointment and I came looking for you only to get raped by your holoprogram!I will expect you in my office in one hour for a very long session of counseling.You are even more deeply disturbed than I realized!'With that Deanna turned and marched out of the holodeck.In her anger she had forgot she was stark naked and a couple of ensigns got quite an eyeful as she marched past them.A chagrined Deanna looked down at her nude body when she saw their stares.Oh well, she thought, at least the holo-cum had disappeared when she left the holodeck!
damn you!
I hope someone metamods the shit out of ya, crackheads!
yeah,
your balls seem to work as good as your brain, AC scum
pathetic ACs.
learn how to firstpost.
prolly not since im 3 hours ahead the US and soon going home have some xxx.
please?
pretty please?
pretty please with sugar on top?
(damn that remembers me of the kick-ass Monkey Island)
another post for you to mod down.
;-)
I want my -6 back
"Prejudicatus paus bundus est."
pr0pz to all trolls!
stop modding me up, brain-dead moderators!
if someone browse above -1, he/she is not part of my intended audience.
ps: i'm in the verge of being banned again, so if it hapens some other friendly troll take the fps from now, ok?
the question, my friend, is WHO MODDED THIS UP?
since I post at default -1
;-)
kiss my ass
pfft...
when we were kids and used windoze, we used to have our own v3rs10n of w1nd0z3. All it took was "borland resource editor" and free time (which was abundant these days)
just ask *explicitly* for a buildable source tree.
then build it, it would pre pretty simple to figure it out.
not yet.
i'll let the next to ya, tough. getting bored.
just dont let any AC take it.
A recent article devoted to the *macho* side of programming made the bald and unvarnished statement:
Real Programmers write in FORTRAN.
Maybe they do now, in this decadent era of Lite beer, hand calculators and "user-friendly" software but back in the Good Old Days, when the term "software" sounded funny and Real Computers were made out of drums and vacuum tubes, Real Programmers wrote in machine code. Not Fortran. Not RATFOR. Not, even, assembly language. Machine Code.Raw, unadorned, inscrutable hexadecimal numbers. Directly.
Lest a whole new generation of programmers grow up in ignorance of this glorious past, I feel duty-bound to describe, as best I can through the generation gap, how a Real Programmer wrote code. I'll call him Mel, because that was his name.
I first met Mel when I went to work for Royal McBee Computer Corp., a now-defunct subsidiary of the typewriter company. The firm manufactured the LGP-30, a small, cheap (by the standards of the day) drum-memory computer, and had just started to manufacture the RPC-4000, a much-improved, bigger, better, faster -- drum-memory computer. Cores cost too much, and weren't here to stay, anyway. (That's why you haven't heard of the company, or the computer.)
I had been hired to write a Fortran compiler for this new marvel and Mel was my guide to its wonders. Mel didn't approve of compilers.
"If a program can't rewrite its own code," he asked, "what good is it?"
Mel had written, in hexadecimal, the most popular computer program the company owned. It ran on the LGP-30 and played blackjack with potential customers at computer shows. Its effect was always dramatic. The LGP-30 booth was packed at every show, and the IBM salesmen stood around talking to each other. Whether or not this actually sold computers was a question we never discussed.
Mel's job was to re-write the blackjack program for the RPC-4000. (Port? What does that mean?) The new computer had a one-plus-one addressing scheme, in which each machine instruction, in addition to the operation code and the address of the needed operand, had a second address that indicated where, on the revolving drum, the next instruction was located. In modern parlance, every single instruction was followed by a GO TO! Put *that* in Pascal's pipe and smoke it.
Mel loved the RPC-4000 because he could optimize his code: that is, locate instructions on the drum so that just as one finished its job, the next would be just arriving at the "read head" and available for immediate execution. There was a program to do that job, an "optimizing assembler", but Mel refused to use it.
"You never know where it's going to put things", he explained, "so you'd have to use separate constants".
It was a long time before I understood that remark. Since Mel knew the numerical value of every operation code, and assigned his own drum addresses, every instruction he wrote could also be considered a numerical constant. He could pick up an earlier "add" instruction, say, and multiply by it, if it had the right numeric value. His code was not easy for someone else to modify.
I compared Mel's hand-optimized programs with the same code massaged by the optimizing assembler program, and Mel's always ran faster. That was because the "top-down" method of program design hadn't been invented yet, and Mel wouldn't have used it anyway. He wrote the innermost parts of his program loops first, so they would get first choice of the optimum address locations on the drum. The optimizing assembler wasn't smart enough to do it that way.
Mel never wrote time-delay loops, either, even when the balky Flexowriter required a delay between output characters to work right. He just located instructions on the drum so each successive one was just *past* the read head when it was needed; the drum had to execute another complete revolution to find the next instruction. He coined an unforgettable term for this procedure. Although "optimum" is an absolute term, like "unique", it became common verbal practice to make it relative: "not quite optimum" or "less optimum" or "not very optimum". Mel called the maximum time-delay locations the "most pessimum".
After he finished the blackjack program and got it to run, ("Even the initializer is optimized", he said proudly) he got a Change Request from the sales department. The program used an elegant (optimized) random number generator to shuffle the "cards" and deal from the "deck", and some of the salesmen felt it was too fair, since sometimes the customers lost. They wanted Mel to modify the program so, at the setting of a sense switch on the console, they could change the odds and let the customer win.
Mel balked. He felt this was patently dishonest, which it was, and that it impinged on his personal integrity as a programmer, which it did, so he refused to do it. The Head Salesman talked to Mel, as did the Big Boss and, at the boss's urging, a few Fellow Programmers. Mel finally gave in and wrote the code, but he got the test backwards, and, when the sense switch was turned on, the program would cheat, winning every time. Mel was delighted with this, claiming his subconscious was uncontrollably ethical, and adamantly refused to fix it.
After Mel had left the company for greener pa$ture$, the Big Boss asked me to look at the code and see if I could find the test and reverse it. Somewhat reluctantly, I agreed to look. Tracking Mel's code was a real adventure.
I have often felt that programming is an art form, whose real value can only be appreciated by another versed in the same arcane art; there are lovely gems and brilliant coups hidden from human view and admiration, sometimes forever, by the very nature of the process. You can learn a lot about an individual just by reading through his code, even in hexadecimal. Mel was, I think, an unsung genius.
Perhaps my greatest shock came when I found an innocent loop that had no test in it. No test. *None*. Common sense said it had to be a closed loop, where the program would circle, forever, endlessly. Program control passed right through it, however, and safely out the other side. It took me two weeks to figure it out.
The RPC-4000 computer had a really modern facility called an index register. It allowed the programmer to write a program loop that used an indexed instruction inside; each time through, the number in the index register was added to the address of that instruction, so it would refer to the next datum in a series. He had only to increment the index register each time through. Mel never used it.
Instead, he would pull the instruction into a machine register, add one to its address, and store it back. He would then execute the modified instruction right from the register. The loop was written so this additional execution time was taken into account -- just as this instruction finished, the next one was right under the drum's read head, ready to go. But the loop had no test in it.
The vital clue came when I noticed the index register bit, the bit that lay between the address and the operation code in the instruction word, was turned on-- yet Mel never used the index register, leaving it zero all the time. When the light went on it nearly blinded me.
He had located the data he was working on near the top of memory -- the largest locations the instructions could address -- so, after the last datum was handled, incrementing the instruction address would make it overflow. The carry would add one to the operation code, changing it to the next one in the instruction set: a jump instruction. Sure enough, the next program instruction was in address location zero, and the program went happily on its way.
I haven't kept in touch with Mel, so I don't know if he ever gave in to the flood of change that has washed over programming techniques since those long-gone days. I like to think he didn't. In any event, I was impressed enough that I quit looking for the offending test, telling the Big Boss I couldn't find it. He didn't seem surprised.
When I left the company, the blackjack program would still cheat if you turned on the right sense switch, and I think that's how it should be. I didn't feel comfortable hacking up the code of a Real Programmer.
damn I believe it is the 4th today.
its a dirty work, but someone has to prevent the shitty ACs from getting the hat.
nuff said
sorry, my friend. see fp above.
;-)
better luck next time
pr0st!
Sonies are awesome, but they are a PITA to unlock. I'd better stay away from them, since I need to watch r1, r2 & r4... hehe