From voxers-at-large-owner@io.com Sun Mar  5 06:09:21 1995
Subject: La Boite Bleu
Sender: owner-voxers-at-large@pentagon.io.com
Reply-To: voxers-at-large@pentagon.io.com

[snarfed from a  s3k/~3+  area of AOL]


Subj:  La Boite Bleu                         95-03-04 13:25:38 EST
From:  Mspeckler

La Boite Bleu
Translated from the memoirs of Jean Turing-VonNeuman
(a minor 19th century post-Impressionist programmer)

I will never forget that Spring, that day. Paris had an air of revolution.
The week before, an exhibition of Seurats listings had caused a sensation. In
his unrelenting quest for simplicity, he had reduced all of programming to
three machine instructions. The resulting 6,000 line bubble sort had shocked
the critics.

My own recent efforts had been received poorly. I had cut and slashed through
my programs, juxtaposing blocks of code in a way that exposed the underlying
intensity of the algorithm without regard to convention or syntax.

But it doesnt compile, they complained. As if programming was about adhering
to their primitive language definitions. As if it was my duty to live within
the limits of their antiquated and ordinary compilers.

So it was that day I cam to La Boite Bleu seeking solace and companionship.
La Boite Bleu was where we gathered those days. The wine there was cheap, the
tables were large and they kept a complete set of language manuals behind the
bar. As I entered, I heard Henris measured accent above the din.

 ... that complexity is not the salient characteristic of exemplary style.
Toulouse Lautrec was seated at a table spread with greenbar. Manet,
red-faced, loomed over him.

Damn your recursion, Henri. iteration, however complex, is always more
efficient. Manet stormed away from the table in the direction of the bar. He
always seemed angry at that time. Partly because his refusal to write in
anything but FORTRAN isolated him from the rest of the Avante-Garde, partly
because people kept confusing him with Monet. Henri motioned to me to join
him at the table. 

Have you heard from Vincent recently? We were all concerned about Van Gogh.
Only a few days before he had completed an order n sorting routine that
required no additional memory. Unfortunately, because he had written it in C
and refused, on principle, to comment his code, no one had understood a line
of it. He had not taken it well. 

No. Why? I replied.

He and Gaugin had a violent argument last night over whether a side effect
should be considered output and he hasnt been seen since. I fear he may have
done something ... rash.

We were suddenly interrupted by the waitresss terrified scream. I turned in
time to see something fall from the open envelope she held in her hand.
Stooping to retrieve it, I was seized by a wave of revulsion as I recognized
that the object in my hand, bestially torn from its accustomed place, was the
mouse from Van Goghs workstation. The waitress, who had fainted, lay in an
unnoticed heap beside me.

By the evening, the incident had become the talk of Paris.


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From: Voidmstr@aol.com
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