Genesis post

Dear reader,

If you have just realized the magnitude of your misfortune by stumbling into this strange place I am sure you doubtlessly have many questions. Like:

• How did I get here?
• Who are you?
• What are your intentions?
• Are you going to let me go?
• How do I get home?

The first question has a simple but unsavory answer: You were simply unlucky. You probably were driven to the edge of sanity with yet another opaque and awesomely inscrutable compiler error and had an epiphany. That epiphany, at least for me, was that compilers couldn’t exist in a fair and just world. If compilers exist, so must the devil. In your desperate search for meaning in an unjust world, you probably slipped on a hyperlink and fell far into the deepest pit of the clearnet, where we made our chance acquaintance upon your awakening.

The good news is that I’ve learned a thing or two lurking in the shadows and I aim to share these blasphemous ideas under candlelight with you, if you promise to keep the dark arts a secret. To answer the second question, I am the only friend you have here. In my limitless generosity, I’ve emerged from the shadows to take you under my formidable, and potentially literal, wing. In return, I only ask that you remember my terrifying presence fondly. And maybe, one day, you’ll be in my place spreading the devil’s knowledge to an unassuming wayward traveler. Let’s hope as much. Say no to my kindness, and leave yourself to the mercy of the other shapeless, formless creatures lurking in the darkness who are far, far hungrier.

While I may lurk in the shadows, I do not intend to hide truth or knowledge from your curious eyes. Especially if that kind of truth or knowledge will corrupt your soul or result in code which compiles. (See: dark arts.) For that, the devil will pay me a fair price, inflation adjusted and fair market value, when I meet my maker. You will also meet your maker, but that day will not be today. Maybe tomorrow, when I am hungrier I will rethink your status as my protege. That is the answer to your third question.

Am I going to let you go? Don’t make me laugh. Breakfast is at 10 AM sharp and dinner is served at 8 PM. (Us demons like to sleep in.) And don’t wander out alone, unless you want your last moments on this earth to be your most soul-crushing and tormenting. Maybe when you grow bigger and scarier than your fearsome captor we can revisit your freedom. That’s how I got mine.

As for your final question, the only way home is with wings, as you’ll discover. The walls of this abyss of the internet are too steep and smooth to climb, even with claws as large as mine. Home is where the heart is, so the saying goes. When you assume your true demonic form, wings and all, your heart will be blacker than coal in the pits of an abandoned mine. By then your heart will belong in the shadows and darkness, like the rest of us.

I see a beautiful, dark future together. One full of hopelessness and despair and syntactically correct, fault-tolerant code. Take my talon, or hand, if you will, and join me. I’ll show you the world at 10,000 feet as we scope out human prey for 8 PM dinner. I aim to show you that the compiler wasn’t an act of vengeance by the devil for being struck down by God. It was an act of mercy. A tool of liberation to realize your potential. I promise, mastering these awesome powers will give you wings and a hunger for more.

Warmly,

A friend