Originally Published: Friday, 1 September 2000 Author: Matt Michie
Published to: featured_articles/Featured Articles Page: 1/1 - [Printable]

Diary of a Madman: End Game.

I've been rummaging through my root partition for my kernel patches. Nothing. Nothing. My experiences are descending into something I may only describe as ethereal. Disconnected memories seem to suddenly slip unbidden into my mind.

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It has been some time since I've had the coherency to compose anything in my journal. I am starting to question everything around me. Earlier, I walked down my street and the formerly familiar landmarks seemed to sheer in my muddled mind. Nothing looks the same, and I'm not sure who or what I am anymore.

I've been rummaging through my root partition for my kernel patches. Nothing. Nothing. My experiences are descending into something I may only describe as ethereal. Disconnected memories seem to suddenly slip unbidden into my mind.

The CVS server our source was being readied for release doesn't even exist. Our domain name is gone, with no records anywhere in the DNS. The IP isn't even cached in my name server. E-mails I've sent to out project members have all bounced, and all phone calls have been routed to wrong numbers.

I've never had to question the veracity of my own memories... until now. I just wanted to write software. Forking the stagnated Linux kernel was supposed to be a lark. Just a fun project to keep me busy. Our main goal was to open the development up, and to approach a more BSD style of development.

Sure, a little ego gratification would have been nice had we succeeded. Its easy to admire the kind of respect that Linus or Alan has gotten. What programmer wouldn't want that affection or the ability to affect dramatic changes into the core of a widely used OS kernel?

Reviewing my past journal entry, I am more sure by the minute that I am missing memories. Paranoia is always fun that way though. What have I gotten myself into and how do I extract myself from this mess?

I decided to send an e-mail out to root@respite.kg. Maybe I could get some answers there.



Date: 15 Aug 2010 02:50:11 -0000
From: jake@kernelkrusaders.org
To: root@respite.kg (joe root)
Subject: RE: Are you watching yet?

> Perhaps I've gotten your attention now. I regret that we had to take
> some drastic measures, but you ignored my fair warnings. I told you
> last time that we have the resources to make your project
> and if necessary your life wretched. Consider yourself warned and
> please stay the hell away.

You have gotten my attention in a dramatic way. Care to explain how I can get things back to normal? You have obviously disrupted our forking efforts, and this has already gone too far for my tastes.


I waited for several hours, partly relieved that at least this domain was resolving and accepting SMTP. I wasn't sure what to expect, or what I wanted to have happen. Maybe I just wanted things to go back to normal. I didn't want to have to deal with this much antagonism over a piece of code, forking or no.



Date: 15 Aug 2010 02:50:11 -0000
From: jake@kernelkrusaders.org
To: root@respite.kg (joe root)
Subject: RE: Are you watching yet?

Jake, I think you have forgotten to take your medicine again. Take my advice and take your pills. Don't you remember what happened to us the last time you did this? Can we at least make some sort of effort?


Reading that e-mail seemed to click something into my brain. I looked over to the right and saw a bottle of pills on the counter with a prescription in my name. I hear the voice of my "friend" from Krygyzstan in my head, telling me to take the pills.

In sudden fit of mental clarity, I look around and remember the "breakdown" seven years ago. My surroundings snap into place and I realize that I'm still at Woodridge Grove. My doctors won't be happy that I've forgotten to take my pills or that I've slipped into my alter-ego, yet again.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

Matt Michie lives in New Mexico. He maintains a web site at http://daimyo.org.





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