Waste and Worthlessness

I recently had an argument with someone about some basic programming topic, and reinforced my belief
by referencing a similar argument from some decades ago, unintentionally ruining the fun for myself.
Programming hasn't been fun to me for as long as I can remember, and I lack the camaraderie I saw in
the historical records detailing those long-dead laboratories, which pains me to some degree.  There
is too much shit in software, unsurmountable by one man, and no good way to combat it regardless.  I
began to implement a protocol designed by an acquaintance, out of interest and a vain attempt to get
some similar collaborative spirit, but it may matter not, and the work has lain unfinished for quite
a few months now.  I increasingly often scorn computers, already I purchase common objects that lack
computers where possible, and I dread to consider how the dumbfuckery of computing could outlive me.

Within this past year, I've grown increasingly familiar with the ``business model'' of those largest
corporations, even less defensible than that of the copyright cartels: These corporations disempower
people in the most trivial ways, so they may sell back the trivialities for ongoing fees.  I've been
accustomed to stepping around this nonsense, and only recently have I been using a machine dutifully
enforcing such fuckery, by stripping its user of even basic inspection facilities.  Corporations are
evil, and want all benefits of computers for themselves, and to pretend otherwise only when making a
deal.  Corporations wish to have infinite copies of data and charge for them as if they were scarce.
Corporations wish to own automation and disenfranchise others by any excuse presentable.  That issue
for them is the fragility of this model, ultimately defeated by individuals or small groups, without
even legal backing in most cases.  This psychopathic desire for control has brainwashed generations.

These same corporations have more computational power than they need and simultaneously waste almost
of it somehow.  They use caches to appear larger than they truly are, and I've read internal remarks
amounting to their inability to come back online if they ever completely shut off.  To serve evil by
working for such corporations is unthinkable to me, and I know of no business not suffering from the
spectre of dysfunction.  I so often think back to how that acquaintance once described me: marooned.

I know this demeanour to be somewhat typical; I can think of no man who both knows computers and yet
loves them.  I wanted to love them.  I continue to wander in this field for lack of anything better.
.