Why choose blogc?
Street cred, that's why.
I was making my way home one evening when a group of thugs jumped me. "GIVE ME YOUR MONEY, FOOL!" one of the gentlemen said, brandishing a knife. "I have no money." I said. "WELL YOU BETTER HAND SOMETHING OVER OR I'M GOING TO GUT YOU LIKE A FISH, FOOL!" he said. "Hold on, don't you know who that is?," said another thug, as he grabbed the former by the shoulder. "That's the famed programmer Gridsuru everyone's been talking about! He's privy to the UNIX way of life". "IS THIS TRUE, FOOL!? THEN TELL ME: what do the rules of a makefile consist of?". "Targets, prerequisites, and a recipe." I replied. He dropped his knife and put his arms around me: "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were family" he said. We both shed tears. We stood there in an embrace for a good 10 minutes, as had become customary when establishing a new friendship, since The Great Corporate War of 2037 had killed most of the human population, and friendships had become the world's most valued commodity. I'd been inducted into their crew.
The crew lived and breathed as one. We hunted together, we ate together, we braved the eternal winter wastelands together, we brushed our teeth together.
The only readily found source of food in the wastelands are cats. How the cats manage to survive, when nothing else does; I do not know; maybe they really do have nine lives. One of the crew members, Vitr, has suggested that the cats may be the creations of one of the old corporations' bioengineers. He thinks that since the cats are all hairless and their skin is mostly green, the cats are able to photosynthesize. I don't know about all that, I think the sky is much too dark. And besides, the sun disappeared a long time ago. He however, is adamant that sun hasn't disappeared, and that its light is simply dimmed by satellites, space debris, mining asteroids, and atmospheric pollution. I think he's read one too many of those science books of his; he's off his rocker. If he likes the sun so much, he should go cross The Sea Divide and go find some Sun Believers. Ridiculous.
Cats are four legged animals, hairless, and mostly green in coloration. They travel in herds, usually anywhere from 5 to 10 individuals in size. They're commonly found hiding in fields of glowrice. Glowrice, like all other plants, is inedible. So don't go shoving any of it in your mouth, or you'll end up like our old crew member Wilhelm, - who incidentally was the guy who attempted to rob me, which led to me being inducted into the crew - lying motionless, facedown in the snow in a few weeks' time. We now refer to him as Fool, because that's what he used to call everybody, and in the end, it was he who was the fool. Or maybe he had simply had enough, and chose a long suffering death. Either way, we keep referring to him as Fool to discourage such behaviour.
A series of short high-pitched whistling noises will lure cats from their hiding place, giving you an excellent opportunity to spear them, or incapacitate them with a large enough rock. Although cats posess a language far more complex than ours and thus you'd assume they wouldn't be so easily decieved, they fall for this every single time.
The Language of Cats
Vitr's father, God rest his soul, was very interested in attempting to decipher the language. Every week he'd go to a glowrice field and listen to the sounds of the cats. He'd always bring with him a small collapsible chair, a fountain pen, and a stack of catskin vellum on which he'd write notes and the words he had supposedly deciphered. As the years went by, the stack of vellum grew. It's rumoured that he screamed "THEY'RE ON TO ME!" just before an unusually large herd of cats leapt on him, killed him , and dragged his lifeless body into a field of glowrice along with his stack of notes.