The boy from the nineteen seventies was shown a dazzling display. 'That's cool,' he said, 'but that's why we kept fish in fish tanks.'
Giant big advertising displays: these were to get us tech boys excited. But there was one outside the shopping centre where we lived while I was in primary school. Thirteen years is not a long time to an adult. In that time I had done some time twiddling with a small advertising shop display. The main thing, to me, was to think of making it easier for non-programmers to play with.
But we're just looking at a monochrome raster display; for advertisers who know the value of text, one or two lines can be good enough for them. And as annoying as scrolling is, it gets the job done.
For those who find they've taken objectivity too far, they're likely to want more than two lines; for the authors who can help them wouldn't avoid referring to the water snakes by making use of a word such as doldrum.
I looked upon the rotting sea, and turned my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, and there the dead men lay.
People who can see far sometimes just haven't a fucking clue about objectivity. I've made my repo's private because carrion fowl cannot be made extinct.
Also, I do intend one day to test educators as to whether they're capable of standing on their own two feet or if they must call on defacto authorities every time they want to make a poo.
The boy from the nineteen seventies, who had a degree in pure maths, couldn't offer any comment; because to put bread on the table he had to listen to people with short memories telling him what he'd been telling him for the last half century.
'Thirty two bits as a signed int will be okay for system time,' he related about what the Unix designers were thinking, 'but for now we'll associate it directly with calendar time.'
'People wouldn't be stupid enough to use this, or file timestamps, where overflow can't be ignored,' he added.
'But now I've been contracted to put up a countdown to the overflow.'