bobbilljim posted:

Could people please not use this list to announce information of no particular interest to the people on the list? Hundreds of thousands of babies are born every day. While the whole phenomenon is menacing, one of them by itself is not newsworthy. Nor is it a difficult achievement--even some fish can do it. (Now, if you were a seahorse, it would be more interesting, since it would be the male that gave birth.)

Following your example, I might send the list an announcement whenever a new GNU program is written. That happens less often than babies are born, it does the world a lot more good, it reflects more conscious creativity and hard work, and some of the readers might actually find the information useful. Even so, I think most of the readers would consider this outside the scope and purpose of the list. Clearly that goes double for babies.

Of course, we have another place for announcements of new GNU programs. If some people like to read birth announcements, perhaps you should set up a suitable list or newsgroup. Perhaps rec.births? (While you're at it, start rec.deaths for obituaries--they're usually more interesting to read.)

These birth announcements also spread the myth that having a baby is something to be proud of, which fuels natalist pressure, which leads to pollution, extinction of wildlife, poverty, and ultimately mass starvation.

Perhaps the people who have decided to have no children should start making proud announcements, so as to set a better example. I could start. I'm sure everyone on this list will be glad to know I don't plan to reproduce myself.

Shifty Pony posted:

i was looking at my laser printer the other day and was thinking "oh man it would be great if i could use the fuser to make toast". so ofc then i went to open it up and reprogram one of the paper sizes to toast but when i tried to open it there was just a chip that had hitler and stalin on it that said "lol closed source fucker!"

i stumbled outside, fell to my knees, and wailed at the sky and lo did the clouds part and the visage of rms appear. my voice wavered as i made my desperate plea: "rms save me, for i am being oppressed!" his gaze fell upon me, chins rippling beneath the beard of the blessed as he was forced to look downward onto such a lowly creature as i, and the heavens did boom "have you ever thought that maybe the dolphins want it?"

Gazpacho posted:

computer toucher posted:

glad she didn't ask me whats so funny so she didn't have to give me one of her "I so don't get you" looks again.

Kthulhu5000 posted:

This happened at HurdRealm 2006, during an after-party at RMS' house. So Enger Walson and I were discussing some project or other; I think it was about open source water pump control software for some African well water thing. I don't think anything came of it, probably because most African wells are still analog bucket-and-rope affairs. Richard Stallman was about seven feet away from us, talking to no one in particular (though he seemed to act as if he was talking at us) about how funny it was that Hurd had driver support for a whole range of early 1980s HP and Xerox printers, but couldn't run in any video mode except four colors at 640x480. "But which four colors that's the question?" he said in one breathless exclamation, grinning as he did so, as if he had made a profoundly clever quip.

Then he butted in between me and Walson and announced he was going to get some more sangria. Me and Walson continued chatting, and I saw Stallmie (what RMS insisted we call him that night) walking out of the kitchen in the corner of my eye. And then he slipped on a rug and crashed to the floor. It was kind of an odd slip; he fell backwards, but it seemed like he intentionally rolled over onto his belly once he hit the floor. Everyone ran to him, asking him if he was all right. Stallman, face down on the floor, let out a groan and then said "If it's OK, I'll now perform the snake dance of the Huelchapa tribe for you all!". And he did. The next ten minutes were awkward for everyone. Even Art Finkel, who regularly belched, farted, and asked people embarrassing personal questions with his profoundly autistic lack of social awareness, seemed to be uncomfortable at the events that were unfolding.

Stallmie's dance was basically just him gyrating his hips as he lay on the ground. Side to side, up and down, with an increasing amount of moaning and panting and sweating as his performance continued. At the end, he was just lying on the floor and staring at it, panting and sweating out the last of his ecstasy. Ten minutes of absolute silence in the room through it all. Then, nonchalantly, he got up, bowed, and said "Well, that's the snake dance of the Huelchapa!" Everyone politely clapped, trying to avert their eyes from the wet spot on the front of Stallmie's khakis, except for Art Finkel (who took a giant puff from his inhaler and ran outside to hyperventilate in the snow).

There was no HurdRealm 2007, and welp, that's my Richard M. Stallman story.

Kthulhu5000 posted:

This happened at HurdRealm 2006, during an after-party at RMS' house. So Enger Walson and I were discussing some project or other; I think it was about open source water pump control software for some African well water thing. I don't think anything came of it, probably because most African wells are still analog bucket-and-rope affairs. Richard Stallman was about seven feet away from us, talking to no one in particular (though he seemed to act as if he was talking at us) about how funny it was that Hurd had driver support for a whole range of early 1980s HP and Xerox printers, but couldn't run in any video mode except four colors at 640x480. "But which four colors that's the question?" he said in one breathless exclamation, grinning as he did so, as if he had made a profoundly clever quip.

Then he butted in between me and Walson and announced he was going to get some more sangria. Me and Walson continued chatting, and I saw Stallmie (what RMS insisted we call him that night) walking out of the kitchen in the corner of my eye. And then he slipped on a rug and crashed to the floor. It was kind of an odd slip; he fell backwards, but it seemed like he intentionally rolled over onto his belly once he hit the floor. Everyone ran to him, asking him if he was all right. Stallman, face down on the floor, let out a groan and then said "If it's OK, I'll now perform the snake dance of the Huelchapa tribe for you all!". And he did. The next ten minutes were awkward for everyone. Even Art Finkel, who regularly belched, farted, and asked people embarrassing personal questions with his profoundly autistic lack of social awareness, seemed to be uncomfortable at the events that were unfolding.

Stallmie's dance was basically just him gyrating his hips as he lay on the ground. Side to side, up and down, with an increasing amount of moaning and panting and sweating as his performance continued. At the end, he was just lying on the floor and staring at it, panting and sweating out the last of his ecstasy. Ten minutes of absolute silence in the room through it all. Then, nonchalantly, he got up, bowed, and said "Well, that's the snake dance of the Huelchapa!" Everyone politely clapped, trying to avert their eyes from the wet spot on the front of Stallmie's khakis, except for Art Finkel (who took a giant puff from his inhaler and ran outside to hyperventilate in the snow).

There was no HurdRealm 2007, and welp, that's my Richard M. Stallman story.

Kthulhu5000 posted:

This happened at HurdRealm 2006, during an after-party at RMS' house. So Enger Walson and I were discussing some project or other; I think it was about open source water pump control software for some African well water thing. I don't think anything came of it, probably because most African wells are still analog bucket-and-rope affairs. Richard Stallman was about seven feet away from us, talking to no one in particular (though he seemed to act as if he was talking at us) about how funny it was that Hurd had driver support for a whole range of early 1980s HP and Xerox printers, but couldn't run in any video mode except four colors at 640x480. "But which four colors that's the question?" he said in one breathless exclamation, grinning as he did so, as if he had made a profoundly clever quip.

Then he butted in between me and Walson and announced he was going to get some more sangria. Me and Walson continued chatting, and I saw Stallmie (what RMS insisted we call him that night) walking out of the kitchen in the corner of my eye. And then he slipped on a rug and crashed to the floor. It was kind of an odd slip; he fell backwards, but it seemed like he intentionally rolled over onto his belly once he hit the floor. Everyone ran to him, asking him if he was all right. Stallman, face down on the floor, let out a groan and then said "If it's OK, I'll now perform the snake dance of the Huelchapa tribe for you all!". And he did. The next ten minutes were awkward for everyone. Even Art Finkel, who regularly belched, farted, and asked people embarrassing personal questions with his profoundly autistic lack of social awareness, seemed to be uncomfortable at the events that were unfolding.

Stallmie's dance was basically just him gyrating his hips as he lay on the ground. Side to side, up and down, with an increasing amount of moaning and panting and sweating as his performance continued. At the end, he was just lying on the floor and staring at it, panting and sweating out the last of his ecstasy. Ten minutes of absolute silence in the room through it all. Then, nonchalantly, he got up, bowed, and said "Well, that's the snake dance of the Huelchapa!" Everyone politely clapped, trying to avert their eyes from the wet spot on the front of Stallmie's khakis, except for Art Finkel (who took a giant puff from his inhaler and ran outside to hyperventilate in the snow).

There was no HurdRealm 2007, and welp, that's my Richard M. Stallman story.

Symbolic Butt posted:

there was a thing called HurdRealm?

Symbolic Butt posted:

there was a thing called HurdRealm?

Werthog 95 posted:

in what universe do any of these people look like this

Kthulhu5000 posted:

This happened at HurdRealm 2006, during an after-party at RMS' house. So Enger Walson and I were discussing some project or other; I think it was about open source water pump control software for some African well water thing. I don't think anything came of it, probably because most African wells are still analog bucket-and-rope affairs. Richard Stallman was about seven feet away from us, talking to no one in particular (though he seemed to act as if he was talking at us) about how funny it was that Hurd had driver support for a whole range of early 1980s HP and Xerox printers, but couldn't run in any video mode except four colors at 640x480. "But which four colors that's the question?" he said in one breathless exclamation, grinning as he did so, as if he had made a profoundly clever quip.

Then he butted in between me and Walson and announced he was going to get some more sangria. Me and Walson continued chatting, and I saw Stallmie (what RMS insisted we call him that night) walking out of the kitchen in the corner of my eye. And then he slipped on a rug and crashed to the floor. It was kind of an odd slip; he fell backwards, but it seemed like he intentionally rolled over onto his belly once he hit the floor. Everyone ran to him, asking him if he was all right. Stallman, face down on the floor, let out a groan and then said "If it's OK, I'll now perform the snake dance of the Huelchapa tribe for you all!". And he did. The next ten minutes were awkward for everyone. Even Art Finkel, who regularly belched, farted, and asked people embarrassing personal questions with his profoundly autistic lack of social awareness, seemed to be uncomfortable at the events that were unfolding.

Stallmie's dance was basically just him gyrating his hips as he lay on the ground. Side to side, up and down, with an increasing amount of moaning and panting and sweating as his performance continued. At the end, he was just lying on the floor and staring at it, panting and sweating out the last of his ecstasy. Ten minutes of absolute silence in the room through it all. Then, nonchalantly, he got up, bowed, and said "Well, that's the snake dance of the Huelchapa!" Everyone politely clapped, trying to avert their eyes from the wet spot on the front of Stallmie's khakis, except for Art Finkel (who took a giant puff from his inhaler and ran outside to hyperventilate in the snow).

There was no HurdRealm 2007, and welp, that's my Richard M. Stallman story.

Phoenixan posted:

e: and maybe stallman when he was a lot younger

Kthulhu5000 posted:

This happened at HurdRealm 2006, during an after-party at RMS' house. So Enger Walson and I were discussing some project or other; I think it was about open source water pump control software for some African well water thing. I don't think anything came of it, probably because most African wells are still analog bucket-and-rope affairs. Richard Stallman was about seven feet away from us, talking to no one in particular (though he seemed to act as if he was talking at us) about how funny it was that Hurd had driver support for a whole range of early 1980s HP and Xerox printers, but couldn't run in any video mode except four colors at 640x480. "But which four colors that's the question?" he said in one breathless exclamation, grinning as he did so, as if he had made a profoundly clever quip.

Then he butted in between me and Walson and announced he was going to get some more sangria. Me and Walson continued chatting, and I saw Stallmie (what RMS insisted we call him that night) walking out of the kitchen in the corner of my eye. And then he slipped on a rug and crashed to the floor. It was kind of an odd slip; he fell backwards, but it seemed like he intentionally rolled over onto his belly once he hit the floor. Everyone ran to him, asking him if he was all right. Stallman, face down on the floor, let out a groan and then said "If it's OK, I'll now perform the snake dance of the Huelchapa tribe for you all!". And he did. The next ten minutes were awkward for everyone. Even Art Finkel, who regularly belched, farted, and asked people embarrassing personal questions with his profoundly autistic lack of social awareness, seemed to be uncomfortable at the events that were unfolding.

Stallmie's dance was basically just him gyrating his hips as he lay on the ground. Side to side, up and down, with an increasing amount of moaning and panting and sweating as his performance continued. At the end, he was just lying on the floor and staring at it, panting and sweating out the last of his ecstasy. Ten minutes of absolute silence in the room through it all. Then, nonchalantly, he got up, bowed, and said "Well, that's the snake dance of the Huelchapa!" Everyone politely clapped, trying to avert their eyes from the wet spot on the front of Stallmie's khakis, except for Art Finkel (who took a giant puff from his inhaler and ran outside to hyperventilate in the snow).

There was no HurdRealm 2007, and welp, that's my Richard M. Stallman story.

pram posted:

lol

bobbilljim posted:

i want to believe

Kthulhu5000 posted:

This happened at HurdRealm 2006, during an after-party at RMS' house. So Enger Walson and I were discussing some project or other; I think it was about open source water pump control software for some African well water thing. I don't think anything came of it, probably because most African wells are still analog bucket-and-rope affairs. Richard Stallman was about seven feet away from us, talking to no one in particular (though he seemed to act as if he was talking at us) about how funny it was that Hurd had driver support for a whole range of early 1980s HP and Xerox printers, but couldn't run in any video mode except four colors at 640x480. "But which four colors that's the question?" he said in one breathless exclamation, grinning as he did so, as if he had made a profoundly clever quip.

Then he butted in between me and Walson and announced he was going to get some more sangria. Me and Walson continued chatting, and I saw Stallmie (what RMS insisted we call him that night) walking out of the kitchen in the corner of my eye. And then he slipped on a rug and crashed to the floor. It was kind of an odd slip; he fell backwards, but it seemed like he intentionally rolled over onto his belly once he hit the floor. Everyone ran to him, asking him if he was all right. Stallman, face down on the floor, let out a groan and then said "If it's OK, I'll now perform the snake dance of the Huelchapa tribe for you all!". And he did. The next ten minutes were awkward for everyone. Even Art Finkel, who regularly belched, farted, and asked people embarrassing personal questions with his profoundly autistic lack of social awareness, seemed to be uncomfortable at the events that were unfolding.

Stallmie's dance was basically just him gyrating his hips as he lay on the ground. Side to side, up and down, with an increasing amount of moaning and panting and sweating as his performance continued. At the end, he was just lying on the floor and staring at it, panting and sweating out the last of his ecstasy. Ten minutes of absolute silence in the room through it all. Then, nonchalantly, he got up, bowed, and said "Well, that's the snake dance of the Huelchapa!" Everyone politely clapped, trying to avert their eyes from the wet spot on the front of Stallmie's khakis, except for Art Finkel (who took a giant puff from his inhaler and ran outside to hyperventilate in the snow).

There was no HurdRealm 2007, and welp, that's my Richard M. Stallman story.

Werthog 95 posted:

in what universe do any of these people look like this

Subjunctive posted:

yeah. a former coworker shared an office with RMS at MIT at one point, apparently RMS got laid a lot? (in their shared office, naturally)

Symbolic Butt posted:

https://rms.sexy/

Symbolic Butt posted:

https://rms.sexy/