Here, at the end of 2002, I know next to nothing about the programing language called “C.” (Nor about any other programming language for that matter.) So you can imagine how little I knew about it nine years ago.
That didn’t stop me from writing a letter to the editor of The C User’s Journal back in 1993. I was working as a technical writer for a company whose name sounds like a skin condition, and one day one of the programmers was complaining about something he was reading in that magazine. I think it was a letter to the editor from some dork who objected to using personification and metaphor when discussing code, and who said something about humans being in complete control of their environment.
It focussed on some specific bit of code or math or something, and the guy reading the magazine explained it to me enough that I almost understood. So on a lark, I fired off a letter to the editor replying to the first guy’s letter.
Apparently the editor of The C User’s Journal was even more bored than me, because they printed my letter a few months later.
I had long since forgotten about this until last night, when I did a vainoogle (vanity Google search) while waiting my turn in the bathroom before bedtime. I found the damn letter I wrote to The C User’s Journal! Unlike a good wine, it has not matured with age — it is just as incomprehensible now as it was then.
Here it is (open the page and search on “hawco”). I’ve never smoked crack, but if I did, this is what I’d probably sound like.