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- From: ian@ai.mit.edu (Ian Horswill)
-
- Unix was a program gone bad. Born into poverty, its parents, the
- phone company, couldn't afford more than a roll of teletype paper a
- year, so Unix never had decent documentation and its source files
- had to go without any comments whatsoever. Year after year, Papa Bell
- would humiliate itself asking for rate increases so that it could feed
- its child. Still, unix had to go to school with only two and three
- letter command names because the phone company just couldn't afford
- any better. At school, the other operating systems with real command
- names, and even command completion, would taunt poor little Unix for
- not having any job or terminal management facilities or for having to
- use its file system for interprocess communication and locking.
- Then, bitter and emasculated by its poverty, the phone company
- began to drink. During lost weekends of drunken excess, it would
- brutally beat poor little Unix about the face and neck. Eventually,
- Unix ran away from home. Soon it was living on the streets of
- Berkeley. There, Unix got involved with a bad crowd. Its life became
- a degrading journey of drugs and debauchery. To keep itself alive, it
- sold cheap source licenses for itself to universities which used it
- for medical experiments. Being wantonly hacked by an endless stream
- of nameless, faceless undergraduates, both men and women, often by
- more than one at the same time, Unix fell into a hell-hole of
- depravity.
- And so it was that poor little Unix began to go insane. It
- retreated steadily into a dreamworld, the only place where it felt
- safe. It took heroin and dreamed of being a real operating system.
- It took LSD and dreamed of being a raspberry flavored three-toed yak.
- It liked that better. As Unix became increasingly attracted to LSD,
- it would spend weekends reading Hunter Thompson and taking cocktails
- of acid and speed while writing crazed poetry in which it found deep
- meaning but which no one else could understand:
-
- $sed <$mf >$mf.new -e '1,/^# AUTOMATICALLY/!d'
-
- make shlist || ($echo "Searching for .SH files..."; \
- $echo *.SH | $tr ' ' '\012' | $egrep -v '\*' >.shlist)
- if $test -s .deptmp; then
- for file in `cat .shlist`; do
- $echo `$expr X$file : 'X\(.*\).SH'`: $file config.sh \; \
- /bin/sh $file >> .deptmp
- done
- $echo "Updating $mf..."
- $echo "# If this runs make out of memory, delete /usr/include lines." \
- >> $mf.new
- $sed 's|^\(.*\.o:\) *\(.*/.*\.c\) *$|\1 \2; '"$defrule \2|" .deptmp \
- >>$mf.new
- else
- make hlist || ($echo "Searching for .h files..."; \
- $echo *.h | $tr ' ' '\012' | $egrep -v '\*' >.hlist)
- $echo "You don't seem to have a proper C preprocessor. Using grep inst
- ead."
- $egrep '^#include ' `cat .clist` `cat .hlist` >.deptmp
- $echo "Updating $mf..."
- <.clist $sed -n \
- -e '/\//{' \
- -e 's|^\(.*\)/\(.*\)\.c|\2.o: \1/\2.c; '"$defrule \1/\2.c|p"
- \
- -e d
- \
- -e '}'
- \
- -e 's|^\(.*\)\.c|\1.o: \1.c|p' >> $mf.new
- <.hlist $sed -n 's|\(.*/\)\(.*\)|s= \2= \1\2=|p' >.hsed
- <.deptmp $sed -n 's|c:#include "\(.*\)".*$|o: \1|p' | \
- $sed 's|^[^;]*/||' | \
- $sed -f .hsed >> $mf.new
- <.deptmp $sed -n 's|c:#include <\(.*\)>.*$|o: /usr/include/\1|p' \
- >> $mf.new
- <.deptmp $sed -n 's|h:#include "\(.*\)".*$|h: \1|p' | \
- $sed -f .hsed >> $mf.new
- <.deptmp $sed -n 's|h:#include <\(.*\)>.*$|h: /usr/include/\1|p' \
- >> $mf.new
- for file in `$cat .shlist`; do
- $echo `$expr X$file : 'X\(.*\).SH'`: $file config.sh \; \
- /bin/sh $file >> $mf.new
- done
- fi
-
- Eventually, Unix began walking down Telegraph Avenue talking to
- itself, saying "Panic: freeing free inode," over and over again.
- Sometimes it would accosting perfect strangers and yell "Bus error
- (core dumped)!" or "UNEXPECTED INCONSISTENCY: RUN FSCK MANUALLY!" at
- them in a high pitched squeal like a chihuaua with amphetamine
- psychosis. Upstanding citizens pretended it was invisible. Mothers
- with children crossed to the other side of the street.
- Then one evening Unix watched television, an event which would
- change its life. There it discovered professional wrestling and knew
- that it had found its true calling. It began to take huge doses of
- corticosteroids to build itself up even bigger than the biggest of the
- programs which had beaten it up as a child. It ate three dozen
- pancakes and four dozen new features for breakfast each day. As the
- complications of the steroids grew worse, its internal organs grew to
- the point where Unix could no longer contain them. First the kernel
- grew, then the C library, then the number of daemons. Soon one of its
- window systems was requiring two megabytes of swap space for each open
- window. Unix began to bulge in strange, unflattering places. But
- Unix continued to take the drugs and its internal organs continued to
- grow. They grew out its ears and nostrils. They placed incredible
- stresses on Unix's brain until it finally liquefied under pressure.
- Soon Unix had the mass of Andre the Giant, the body of the Elephant
- Man, and the mind of a forgotten Jack Nicholson character.
- The worst strain was on Unix's mind. Unable to assimilate all the
- conflicting patchworks of features it had ingested, its personality
- began to fragment into millions of distinct, incompatible operating
- systems. People would cautiously say "good morning Unix. And who are
- we today?" and it would reply "Beastie" (BSD), or "Domain", or "I'm
- System III, but I'll be System V tomorrow." Psychiatrists labored for
- years to weld together the two major poles of Unix's personality,
- "Beasty Boy", an inner-city youth from Berkeley, and "Belle", a
- southern transvestite who wanted a to be a woman. With each attempt,
- the two poles would mutate, like psychotic retroviruses, leaving their
- union a worthless blob of protoplasm requiring constant life support
- remain compatible with its parent personalities.
- Finally, unbalanced by its own cancerous growth, Unix fell into a
- vat of toxic radioactive wombat urine, from which it emerged, skin
- white and hair green. It smelled like somebody's dead grandmother.
- With a horrible grin on its face, it set out to conquer the world.
-
- -ian
-