view doc/the_penguin.txt @ 7724:613b20c69d2c

[gaim-migrate @ 8369] this didn't cause me any problems yesterday, and it compiles, and bug fixing is a good thing. "Some month ago I introduced translatable texts for "gaim --help" and "gaim-remote --help". Unfortunately the output of the translated text is often unreadable. The problem is, that Gaim's *.po files have the UTF-8 locale (because this is the default charset for GTK+ 2.0). But the users may have configured other locales. For instance my SuSE Linux 9.0 system is configured with LANG=de_DE@euro. "euro" is ISO-8859-1 (Western character set, 8 Bit, with the Euro currency symbol). Lots of UTF-8 characters are unreadable if they are displayed in a 8 Bit charset without conversion. Only the 7 Bit chars are displayed right. There are two possible solutions: 1) Make the console texts untranslatable. This isn't very clever. 2) Convert the texts from UTF-8 to user's locale. I choose the second solution. The conversion cannot be made during the translation, because gettext does not allow a mix of different character sets in one po-file. My patch converts the console strings from UTF-8 to users locale. Normally this works right, because most users have a locale which is compatible with their language. The case where a user uses a language (for instance German: LANG=de_DE) with an incompatible character set (for instance the 7Bit charset LC_CTYPE=C) is also handled. The user then sees a warning and the original UTF-8 message. At first I tried to make a new UTF-8 function in src/util.c. But the function is needed 5 times in src/gaim-remote.c and 2 times in src/main.c. gaim-remote is not linked against util.o. Also there are a lot of dependencies from util.o to other files, so I will introduce a lot of trouble to link gaim-remote against util.o. So I only wrote a function in src/gaim-remote.c and used the UTF-8 conversion inline in src/main.c." --Bjoern Voigt committer: Tailor Script <[e-mail]>

The Penguin

by Rob Flynn <[e-mail]>
   and
   Jeramey Crawford <[e-mail]>


Once upon a term'nal dreary, while I hack'ed, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten code--
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a beeping,
As of some one gently feeping, feeping using damn talk mode.
"'Tis some hacker," I muttered, "beeping using damn talk mode--
                          Only this. I hate talk mode."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak semester,
And college life wrought its terror as the school year became a bore.
Eagerly I wished for privledges;--higher access I sought to borrow
For my term'nal, unceasing sorrow--sorrow for a file called core--
For the rare and radiant files of .c  the coders call the core--
                           Access Denied.  Chown me more.

"Open Source," did all mutter, when, with very little flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Penguin of the saintly days of yore.
Quite a bit obese was he; having eaten lots of fish had he,
But, by deign of Finnish programmer, he sat in the middle of my floor--
Looking upon my dusty term'nal in the middle of my floor--
                           Came, and sat, and nothing more.

Then the tubby bird beguiling my sad code into shining,
By the free and open decorum of the message that it bore,
"Though thy term'nal be dusty and slow," he said, "Linux be not craven!"
And thus I installed a new OS far from the proprietary shore--
The kernel code open but documentation lacking on this shore.
                           Quoth the Penguin, "pipe grep more!"

Much I marvelled this rotund fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help believing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird in the middle of his floor--
Bird or beast sitting in the middle of his cluttered floor,
                           With such instructions as "pipe grep more."

But the Penguin, sitting lonely in that cluttered floor, spoke only
Those words, as if its soul in that instruction he did outpour.
Nothing more did he need utter; understood did I among that clutter--
Understood his command as I could scarcely do a few moments before--
I typed as furious as was willed me, understanding just a minute before.
                           Again the bird said "pipe grep more!"

"Amazing!" said I, "Penguin we will conquor the world if you will!
By the Network that interconnects us--by that Finn we both adore--
We'll take this very world by storm!" For now grasped I what he'd meant,
The thing I do while searching /usr/doc/* for that wond'rous lore--
Those compendiums of plaintext documentation and descriptive lore.
                           Quoth the Penguin, "pipe grep more!"

And the Penguin, never waddling, still is sitting, still is sitting
In the middle of my room and still very cluttered floor;
And his eyes have all the seeming of the free beer I am drinking
And the term'nal-light o'er him glowing throws his shadows on the floor;
And this OS from out the shadows that is pow'ring my term'nal on the floor
                            Shall be dominating--"Pipe grep more!"