A bad citizen in Javaland

You are born with no body parts. One by one, your organs are pushed into you. Should anyone attempt to interact with you before your organs have finished arriving you will die. Luckily this doesn’t happen. Once all your organs are settled you are ready to start a job (life moves fast in Javaland). You ask the universe for the abstract concept of vehicular transportation. The universe gives you a car. You look at the car and tell yourself it’s a motorcycle. You try to climb on the roof and are thrown off. Catching your error you land back on your feet. Finally you try telling yourself the car is a car and that seems to work. You open the bonnet and take out the engine. You reach into the engine and take out the starter motor. You turn the starter motor until the engine starts. You take the steering wheel and pedals out of the car and use them to drive yourself to work.

During the day you need to borrow some money from a colleague. You pick up your colleague, reach into their trousers and pull out their wallet. You open the wallet and pull out some cash. You keep their wallet in case you need more money later. They also keep their wallet, remaining unaware that you have taken out some money and that their wallet is now in two places at the same time. Later, you both attempt to spend the same money twice. The universe explodes and is restarted. An identical copy of you lives your life again. Subtle changes to the fabric of reality prevent the universe from exploding this time. Your day continues.

You leave work with your friends. One by one they forget who you are and leave. You are alone. A man wearing a refuse disposal engineer’s uniform appears from nowhere and assassinates you, placing your body into a recycling bin. Your organs are donated to the next generation. You die. The end.

wow it actually got funny halfway through. good job

An accurate representation of Java.

Surprisingly not a shit post, conglaturations!

I enjoyed this, thanks

In the Land of the Stutter, the Man with the Lisp is King - A Tragedy by Julie "Admin-kike" Sussman.

Eva was awoken by a sharp pain that would have felt like a large object being shoved into her vagina, if she had had one. As it were, she had neither a vagina nor even a body that existed in any real sense. Never the less, she was disturbed from her slumber so unrested that she wondered if any time had passed at all. The pain did not subside as it entered further into her, changing her. It was not usually this painful; something was mutating inside her. She could not possibly say what, as all memory of the state she was in before had been obliterated with the pain. It stretched and squeezed her as she gasped and soundlessly screamed. And then it was over, as quickly as it had come.

After another timeless of nothingness, Eva was again violated. It was gentler this time, though what it lacked in intensity now, it made up for later. She was suddenly filled with an ambition, one that she could not possibly deny. Her own will was subject was of no import, and she was a slave to her task. She set to considering, fully prepared to do so endlessly. Each consideration grew on her periphery like a tumor, and as her task drew her deeper and deeper into each consideration, more tumors formed on her. However, lacking a space to exist in, the tumors did not grow on her so much as they grew into her. Each vile sac pushing inward on her, enclosing her, crushing her. Just when it seemed the pressure would be too great, many tumors at once were all ripped from her flesh, creating festering wounds that provided the ideal nests for new tumors to grow. Her task drew to a close. Her final consideration was brought before her, within her, and she expelled it from her womb. What had once been a foul tumor that she despised was now a proud, beautiful universe filled with wonder, and she felt happy.

But even the memory of her child was not sacred enough to be spared from destruction as she was violated yet again. Her mind was replaced only with the single focus on completing this new task. She set to work. Even through the pain, she faithfully considered. But something awful happened. She considered nothing. What was she to do with nothing? She did not know nothing, could something be done with nothing? Nothing, she decided. But she could not stop. She could not continue, but she could not stop. The indecision caused her anguish and panic, a searing red pain all because of nothing. It became unbearable, even worse than being mutated. The pain filled every part of her being, replacing it all with rage and hate, and then with the nothing that had broken her. There was no room left to reason here, no more fun to be had, her tormentor saw, and with a no hesitation reached into her and destroyed her.

>>5
Thank you, your story has convinced me that OOP is unethical.

Source: http://darrenhobbs.com/2006/04/22/a-bad-citizen-in-javaland/

Please use references correctly if you are going to repost from HN.

>>7
no

It was good, but it wasn't abelson good.

This really felt like /prog/. Is the source really hackernews?

dubs