Re: Debian User List
On Sun, 2007-04-01 at 12:06 -0500, John C wrote:
> Since my only reason for remaining on the list all these years
> was simply to keep abreast of the progress of the Debian
> community and since that community seems to be morphing into
> something less than it could be, I've decided to unsubscribe.
Have fun. Getting real help from source other than this list ONCE Etch
goes Stable, is going to be cumbersome at best. There are other places,
but none that have the people here that CAN answer the questions the
first time or timely enough.
It is morphing, but you see we are all "itchy for Etch" waiting, very
little real question concerning Sarge and will continue to fade away.
Etch, we are just starting to see questions for Etch. Come April 7th or
9th (which ever you think the announcement meant) there will be a
completely different kind of traffic on this list. Few if any really
long OT threads, mostly real question and answer threads.
If you have been on this list as long as you say you have been, I am
surprised at you blase attitude. You seem to have missed that this
current environment of waiting is a recurring artifact of "right before
release". Tell me straight, that you have not noticed this before.
I have. We can go back to weeks before each of the releases and see how
much OT chit-chat there is... and just as much complaining about it,
calls for newbie lists, calls for other lists for OT stuff, calls for a
*PURE* help only list. If you can't see it... well, I bid you farewell.
--
greg, greg@gregfolkert.net
I think it's a mistake to ever look for hope outside of one's self. One
day the house smells of fresh bread, the next of smoke and blood. One
day you faint because the gardener cuts his finger off, within a week
you're climbing over corpses of children bombed in a subway. What hope
can there be if that is so? I tried to die near the end of the war. The
same dream returned each night until I dared not to go to sleep and grew
quite ill. I dreamed I had a child, and even in the dream I saw it was
my life, and it was an idiot, and I ran away. But it always crept onto
my lap again, clutched at my clothes. Until I thought, if I could kiss
it, whatever in it was my own, perhaps I could sleep. And I bent to its
broken face, and it was horrible...but I kissed it. I think one must
finally take one's life in one's arms.
Arthur Miller
from the play After the Fall
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