MùPùF.org

Today I was asked to write an article for my English lesson. It was asked to me about a week ago but of course I wrote it this very morning during my Shell programming lesson (yeah, I love Shell programming).

Here are the instructions of the exercise:

You see this notice in an in-flight magazine and decide to enter the competition.

What forms of transport will we be using in 50 years' time?

Where will we take our holidays?

Write us an article, giving us your views on both of these questions. Science fiction writer John T. Price will choose the most original article, which will receive a prize of $1,000 and be published in our magazine next year.

If I win the prize, I'll make sure to hire an actual artist in order to achieve the redrawing of our sexy header. Long life to the Invisible Pink Licorn and the Flying Spaghetti Monster!

Today, I heard another one. Just a little one. I heard another yesterday. I hear them, in fact, everyday. And there is no day for them to make me laugh. And every single day, when they reach me, when they go through my shell of indifference, they hurt a part of me. Tremendously.

I'm talking about jokes. Sexist jokes. Racist jokes. All those discriminatory jokes, that titillate the beast¹ and are outrageous to the grown-up human inside us. Today, it begun with the evocation of that wonderful thing HTCPCP is:

• Me: there is a protocol to control coffee machines from your PC
• Some guy: I know, it's called wife[...]