Why haven't you joined the huscarl master race? Don't you want to be a code viking who plunders the projects of lesser men and loots their women as they watch on in tears? Are you some kind of girly man?
Here it is. You should even recognize one of the tenants of codach in there (hint: it's Nikita).
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Guys, I've seen a lisper on the street yesterday. Well, you know how it happens - a guy walking by, looking like a hobo, and when he gets closer, you can see 2 brackets with a big lambda on his forehead. But this time it was a child, only 14-16 judging by the looks. And you know what surprised me the most? I pitied him. Just humanely pitied him, you know. "So young, and already a lisper" - thought I for a second and turned away that moment. Then I turned back and caught up to the youngster.
- What is your name? Where do you live? Who are your parents? ERROR: Unbound variable: What
I had to re-ask.
- Paren. What is your name? Where do you live? Who are your parents? Paren. - My name is Mandryusha. I have no parents, I live in Gorky Park. - Paren. Come with me, Mandryusha. You'll live at my place for a while, I'll feed you and find you a job and a place to live for a short term. Paren. - No, I'm not coming. My friend lispers will miss me! Us and them, we meet every Friday in the Buran and read SICP aloud. And today is precisely Friday. I cannot miss it.
Having my interest kindled to look at this happening, I asked if I could go there too. Having received a positive answer, we headed straight for the Gorky Park. At the spot, it instantly caught my eye that the conventional waiting line for the rides was gone. As was the ticket office. Only inside was there a light on. - Just keep quiet and don't say anything about type theory, - surprisingly warned Mandryusha. - OK, - said I. We went inside. To say I was startled would be to say nothing. The walls were festooned with portraits of various famous lispers, like Rich Hickey and Jon McCarthy, amidst an infinite sea of code listings in Lisp and its dialects. We were awaited by about 30 people whose smell, as it seemed to me then, could be used for cockroach control. Among them were women, children and elderly. - And so saith the Sussman: do not sell Bibles, but catch the lulz! And so be it! May it always be so! Lambda! - could be heard from the caudal part. - But Sussman is a Jew! A kike, my beloved, a Jew, oh my fellows! Jews should not oppress the real people, us, Russians who built this Buran, the apex of human creations! - exclaimed some bald fat man nearby. Instantly, several people with humped noses came out of the crowd and shoved the provocator into the street. - Do not pay heed, my lambda-brothers, - the voice from the tail continued. - Today we have assembled to discuss building abstractions with data. Soror with the green hair, come hither, take the book and read! Do read! - Oh, you know, I want to start a tracker here on a sheet of paper, so I could keep track of where I have read to. You can write on it too, keeping track of the things you do. You know, this should be very fun! - unexpectedly answered a not-so-tall girl with remarkably large eyes and hair that was green like a lawn after a rain in a business-like tone. - Do read already, sweetheart, - said the mysterious voice, and the young woman started to read aloud, slowly and evenly. While she was reading, I looked more carefully at the Head, who had been in the tail all this time: he wore a blue t-shirt with a picture of a gnu, he had a beard with crumbs in it, white shorts, yellow rubber sneakers and long hair. He looked at me scrutinizingly. "You, yes you, come closer please." - said he loudly. "This is the first time I see you at our meetings. Introduce yourself, please! Tell us what is it you do". I was a little reluctant to speak, but still fulfilled his request - I walked over to the tail where all present directed their sights.
- My name is Semen, I work at Microsoft, I'm a programmer, - said I. - And what languages do you program in? - wondered the Head. - C#, F#, Haskell, - was my unquivering answer.
Then it was all silent. The reader-girl dropped her book. Mandryusha melted nervously. The eyes of the Head filled with blood. The silence was broken by a shout out of the crowd: "A STATICFAGGOT, BROTHERS! BEAT HIM". Instantly there were Soviet calculators MK-61 flying at me (a box with them was standing by the pilot's cockpit). Miraculously dodging them, I enwrapped myself into a monad. Now lispers couldn't do anything to me. "Who brought him here? Who led this staticfaggot here?" - yelled the Head - "let him answer for everything!" Mandryusha hiccupped. For him, it was all over. 30 lispers were standing and staring at him like he was a living corpse. Then again, Mandryusha thought the same. With an abrupt leap, I scaled 3 lispers to get near Mandryusha. "Paren. This will hurt a little. Paren." - said I and wrapped him into a Maybe-monad. And it was all silent again. The angry lisper eyes were staring at me. Mandryusha, startled by my hubris, looked at me too.
The silence was ripped asunder by laughter. "You will never leave here, stupid statictards! One statico-moron has already tried to wrap this ship into a State monad, and now you'll need a transformer to leave here!" Quite a turn. It was all over in a moment. Unwrapping the monad would mean becoming lunch for the hungry lispers. While not doing that meant having to stay in this monument to human thought until someone finds out about this incident. Suddenly for all, a door opened in the nose area, and in came the same fat man who yelled something about Jews previously.
- Jews, you're all Jews. You must die to cleanse the Russian land of the Jewish plague! - screamed he and connected to the ship computer via his laptop. - I've written a special language using Lisp, using which I shall launch this vehicle into space! - yelled he even louder. - T minus three! T minus two! T minus one! Lift-off!
There was a loud rumble from the tail. In a single moment, the air became really hot. The cockpit door closed and the spaceship started rolling towards Krymskiy Val. Lifting off from the groung a little, it scraped several cars standing in a traffic jam by the bridge with its wheels, which caused it to fall into the river. As they said on the news later, the ship fell because of a segfault in the controlling program - it was due to lack of unit testing for all possible variants of RealWorld: no one accounted for the possibility of ramming several cars in a traffic jam. Of all the unwilling passengers, only two survived: me and Mandryusha. Since this incident, he doesn't write in Lisp anymore, he's found a job as a C# developer, and gives other lispers a wide berth. As for me, I'm writing down this story becaus the official media keep silence about it. Most news agencies refer to a personal request from someone named David Moiseevitch.