Does it actually, though?
I'm not trying to insinuate that it doesn't. I'm just jaded at how many mutually exclusive Markdown-adjacent standards there are out there, and how many implementations there are which claim to adhere to one of the major standards but in actuality either don't fully support it, extend it with their own nonstandard bullshit, or both.
Pretty sure this is asking about entertainment literature like novels. I have no real opinion, as I very rarely read those.
Now, technical books like school textbooks and reference texts, physical. Absolutely no contest. I loathe clunkily scrolling around on two separate axes to negotiate pages where the content is nonlinear, broken up by interspersed photos, figures, and tables.
I don't, tbh.
Not out of any principle. I'm not, like, eager to be rid of past friends or anything. But if they slip away, well, it just be like that.
I'm more than content to Ship of Theseus my way through life's transient relationships. You keep some longer than others. New people take the place of long missing ones. That's just the cycle. It's fine. Just hang on to the ones you can, and that's enough. You can't keep them all around forever.
I'm always receptive to meeting old faces. But I'm not discoverable on any public socials, and I don't live where most of my old friends were. (And neither do they, for the most part.) So opportunities for it are extremely rare.
Mario Wonder is a fantastic game, but it has absolutely no business being on this list.
I had a period where I didn't really understand the GPL or what it was trying to do. All I knew is that it was ""viral"" (whatever the hell that meant!) and that, supposedly, trying to use it would forever bind you and your creation to who knows what unforeseen legal horrors. I mean, look how long it is! It's frightening! I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it at first.
Then I got a clue and actually read it. It's quite straightforward. For almost all serves and purposes it's basically just MIT plus copyleft. All the legal density is just an effort to squash every conceivable loophole to the copyleft directive. I'm no longer afraid of it, I think it's pretty cool.
The thing I want to know now is why so many projects think their shit don't stink and that they need to pollute the FOSS ecosystem with their own stupid permissive license that is functionally identical to the MIT license.
I often wonder how people would react if you showed up to a concert hall in, say, classical music era Europe or something and performed modern music. Assuming you could kit it to provide infrastructure for whatever your performance required, and the acoustics of the venue were idealized.
Would attendees hate it? Would the unfamiliar musical styles be repulsive to them? Would the sounds and textures of modern instrumentation like electric guitar and synthesizer upset or even frighten them? Or would they find something to appreciate about it? Would the music be copied and spread, becoming a time worn classic folk tune in an alternate future? Or would it be rebuked and suppressed, condemned for all time as evil influence? Which genres would have the best acceptance chances in which cultures, and which eras?
In my mind in particular, I think about this with the niche realm of video game soundtracks. If not just the music played as-is through some playback device (which would probably be rather boring, but who knows, maybe the novelty of recorded music alone would be fascinating enough) then perhaps arranged for live performance, like the orchestral performance of Undertale, or the Sinnohvation big band album. Or, of course, if the soundtrack was itself a recorded live performance, just perform it. These collections of compositions often outline rich adventures, communicated by a wide range of musical styles. I wonder if they are strong enough to stand alone, and if audiences would respond to them without the context that they were written to accompany.
Failing live performance (which would be trickier than one would think--to sound good, live music has to be written with its venue in mind, and I'd assume most modern music would sound like garbage when performed in victorian era concert halls or ancient ampitheaters), I'd also consider putting them to vinyl LPs and dumping them in old record shops in any era that had phonograph or turntable technology and see if they get discovered.
Why not just send back the video games themselves? I dunno. I guess I'm less interested in wowing them with futuristic technology and more interested in how they'd react to something they already have (music), but in a strange, new context.
It's not usually where the big bucks are, but there is a nonzero amount of money in bad code.
To me it was quite clear that they were asking, "Why Arch over Mint for OP?" They weren't asking why you like it, they were asking why you think OP would like it.
In that context I think experience is extremely relevant.
It's a simple function definition that's equivalent to:
function confirm(value)
{
if (value == true)
{
return true;
}
else
{
return false;
}
}
Not the most original punchline; I'm sure you've seen it before. We were just baffled to actually see it in the wild.
Judging from the way this function was used, there no evidence to suggest it ever contained extra logic that was refactored out over time. I'm wholly convinced someone wrote this as-is and thought it was okay. I also knew that there's no way this was extracted for DRY purposes, as it was only called in one place, and the rest of the codebase was extremely allergic to DRY.
It was also formatted like complete garbage. Indentation level was not consistent line by line. And, presumably due to some carelessness handling line endings, the entire code file developed double-spacing. Somehow it was checked into version control in that state.
All these little nits, from the code's utter uselessness to its appalling formatting, compelled us to preserve it. It was like the entire rest of the shitty codebase in microcosm.
I put my home directory on another partition, because I heard very early on that it can better facilitate distro hopping. That is not the stupid part, that's actually good advice.
The stupid part was assuming that Linux users are identified by name, and that as long as I create a user with the same name as the one on my previous install, things would Just Work.
Im reality, Linux users are integer IDs under the hood. And in my original system, my current user at the time was not the first user I had created on that system. Thus, when I set up my new OS, mounted the home partition, and set the first user to have the same name, I was immediately unable to log in. The name match meant I was trying to read my home dir, but the UID mismatch was telling me I had no permission to read it. I was feeling ballsy with the install and elected to not enable the root user, so I had an effectively bricked OS right out of the box.
I'm sure there was some voodoo I could have done to recover it on that attempt, but I just said screw it and reinstalled.
As a child I was raised in a household of chewable Tylenol tablets. Those were the only pills I really knew, particularly for mild pain relief.
In gradeschool, I had a day where I developed a splitting headache. I was sent to the ""nurse"", who, by nature of this being a small town American public school, was just the school office secretary armed with a bottle of child dose Advil tablets. I was promptly given a couple tablets to take, and was shooed off to the drinking fountain. Instinctively, I chewed the tablets. Within minutes, they came back to see me, along with my breakfast, and I was quickly sent home. The valuable lesson I took away from that day was, "chewables are for babies, grown-up pills are swallowed whole".
Growing older, I became accustomed to increasingly annoying pills, which only further cemented that lesson. The culmination was probably being forced to swallow huge capsule pills while having a throat swollen and raw with strep. I just accepted that "real" pills are swallowed whole, and they suck, and that's just how it is.
Much later in life, I was visiting my parents while recovering from a pub crawl. My mom offered me some Tums to combat some heartburn I was having. Somehow I made it far enough into life to drink alcohol but not know what antacids were. I was handed two US silver dollar sized tablets. Flashing back to my previous mistake when taking unknown pills, I swallowed them whole. I was embarassed to learn after the fact that they are, in fact, meant to be chewed.
The morals of this story:
I buy Royal Crown and mix it with Crown Royal.
The perfect marraige of the king of middle shelf soda and the queen of middle shelf whisky.