Liebranca said Fuckdev: I heard people were having meltdowns in certain more political corners of the interwebz, you figure out why, and so I went to read a little bit to see what was going on.

Truth be told, I did not expect this wild mask-off type shit, but it's interesting nonetheless. Malcolm X was proven right once again. I mean el Hajj Malek el Shabazz, dude. These bitches are indeed like foxes, showing their teeth but pretending to smile.

I'd feel bad for the poor fucks, hadn't they come out swinging against immigrants with a copy of Mein Kampf. Not so disgusted by the dextral folks, then? Sinister!

Anyway, having bore witness to such undeniable proof of their conceited wickedness, which makes them more than ever indistinguishable from what they merely *claim* to oppose, I am now at ease for thinking that the B-52 bomber with pride flag meme was kinda funny.,My name was Quiet Array -- I showed it, printed on my ID card, to some waitress. She asked for my hand in holy matrimony, and we got married by a soda dispenser. Immediately went our separate ways. I fiddled around with some runes on my galaxy-sized stash and invented a new way to sodomize demons, but the arcane secrets got lost in translation.

Then I woke up, and my first thought was: "shit, what a cheap-ass discount kiki dream".,Computer! I live in a state of constant mental exhaustion. What does this mean?

*BEEP-BOOP*. IT MEANS YOU'RE STRESSED, BITCH.

Interesting. How do I get rid of this... "stress" you speak of?

*BEEP-BOOP*. GO OUT, BITCH. SEE NATURE, BITCH. CONNECT WITH HUMAN BEINGS, BITCH.

Oh, fuck no, that's just not going to happen. Any other tips?

*BEEP-BOOP*. STOP USING DRUGS, BITCH. YOU DRINK TOO MUCH COFFEE, BITCH.

Well, fuck me, I can't do that either; guess I'll just take this with me to the grave. Thanks anyway, computer.

*BEEP-BOOP*. YOU'RE WELCOME, BITCH. YOU'RE GOING TO DIE, BITCH.

Yes, I hope as much. The sooner the better.,Working on a feature for about a month, give or take. And the whole way through, I'm feeling worried that what I have is very little in relation to how much time I've spent on it.

Well, guess what? I send the PR, and see all the commits put together -- and ONLY THEN I'm able to realize it's a WAY bigger contribution than in my wildest fucking dreams.

So now I'm thinking shit, I may have gone too far in a few places...

Anyway, the feature is not a 100% done: this is just the first step lmao. But I'm glad to get a break from this, though it was a very cool thing to get to work on, I definitively got severe tunnel vision focusing so much on it. Time  to return to smaller bug fixes, let's go!

**ANXIETY INTENSIFIES FOR NO REASON**,And so the land was finally rid of the years-long plague that had desolated a once great nation. The weary denizens let out a sigh of relief, thanking their lucky stars for this new-found peace. But it was only the beggining...

For although the enemy had been defeated, it's undoing was brought about by profane arcana of a much more insidious, dark nature. In saving themselves, the fools had in truth sold their very souls.

"Grandiose... " he muttered villanously between his teeth, fixed on a wolfish, most somber grin.

"Like lambs to the slaughter, my Lord" his assistant verbally circle-jackaloped him off, to great bottock-suckling effect.

"They will soon bow down to me... " so begat his five-hour-long expository monologue, a scheme only as devious as it was needlessly complex "and all the ass in the province shall be mine!!"

Indeed, all unfolded as it was foretold: unleashing the first spell of Mass Desacration would only lead to it being perfected, further corrupted, twisted, and molded into the girthiest, gnarled, grandemonic phallus of anal destruction, by which the souls of an entire people would be bound to the sexually distorted whims of an ancestral eldritch degenerate.

Once uppon a time, they were warned, but laughed at our harbinger -- and as penance, we abandoned them to their black fates. The extremity of the grave peril looming over their every orifice seemed a rather guffawable matter to them... and so was to us the brutal, inter-continental violation that swiftly befell theirs, most precious of human cavities.

Suffice to say, their anus shall never fully recover.

As for Wizard James, he was summarily executed via automobile-assisted castration, his jagged testicles mercilessly crushed under the weight of a thousand oxes. But that is a story for another day.,Since regexes have been mentioned, I'll take this opportunity to make this one thing abundantly clear...

The chief weakness of C++ is not safety concerns but the ultradiarrheic verbosity proudly inherited by it's claimants and successors. See here, straight from reference pages, a basic example of substitution:
{
std::regex_replace(std::ostreambuf_iterator<char>(std::cout), text.begin(), text.end(), vowel_re, "*");
};

Not so bad, right? By which I mean, there's worse still. Now hold my sigils:
{
$text=~ s[$vowel_re][*]g;
say $text;
};

It may be true that people don't respect your intelligence, due in great part to the well-known argumentative proclivities typical of closeted visual basic enthusiasts that are deeply rooted within your innermost self, however no matter how oft-denigrated and disparaged for their shortcomings an individual is, they are still nonetheless physically capable of seeing that the line in question doesn't even exceed 32 characters. Else this wouldn't be a discussion of syntax, or semantics, but rather your ability to count, which would be a much more dire situation.

And now that I have degenerated any semblance of reason existing within this discussion in favor of shame and humiliation towards my enemies in a bid to assert dominance, I've honestly forgotten what my point even was, and no doubt, this will be used against me; truly, the most lethal of double-edged gambits.

In any case, may a razor-sharp serrated diamond obelisk violently penetrate your rear orifice with such excessive force and excruciating pain so as to render your nervous system henceforth inoperable from cheeks to the core, most cavernous depths of your asshole.

Forever yours,
I nevertheless like C++,Trying out the new version of fasm, I realize it's good, and conclude I should update my code to work with it as there's small incompatibilities with the syntax.

So, quick flat assembler lesson: the macro system is freaking nuts, but there are limitations on the old version.

One issue, for instance, is recursive macros aren't easily possible. By "easily" I mean without resorting to black magic, of course. Utilizing the arcane power of crack, I can automatically define the same macro multiple times, up to a maximum recursion depth. But it's a flimsy patch, on top of stupid, and also has limitations. New version fixes this.

Another problem is capturing lines of code. It's not impossible, again, but a pain in the ass that requires too much drug-addled wizardry to deal with. Also fixed in new version.

Why would you want to capture lines of code? Well, because I can do this, for instance:

macro parse line {
··match a =+ b , line \{
····add a,b;
··\}
};

You can process lines of code like this. The above is a trivial example that makes no fucking sense, but essentially the assembler allows you define your own syntax, and with sufficient patience, you can use this feature to develop absolutely super fucking humongous galactic unrolls, so it's a fantastic code emitter.

Anyway, the third major issue is `{}` curlies have to be escaped according to the nesting level as seen in the example; this is due to a parser limitation. [#] hashes and [`] backticks, which are used to concatenate and stringify tokens respectively, have to be escaped as well depending on the nesting level at which the token originates. This was also fixed.

There's other minor problems but that gives you sufficient context. What happens is the new version of fasm fixes all of these problems that were either annoying me, forcing me to write much more mystical code than I'd normally agree to, and in some rare cases even limiting me in what I could do...

But "limiting" needs to be contextualized as well: I understand fasm macros well enough to write a virtual machine with them. Wish I was kidding. I called it the Arcane 9 Machine, A9M for short. Here, bitch was the prototype for the VM my fucking compiler uses: https://github.com/Liebranca/forge/... 

So how am I """limited""", then? You wouldn't understand. As much as I hate to say it, that which should immediately be called into question, you're gonna have to trust me. There are many further extravagant affronts to humanity that I yearn to commit with absolute impunity, and I will NOT be DENIED.

Point is code can be rewritten in much simpler, shorter, cleaner form.
Logic can be much more intricate and sophisticated.
Recursion is no longer a problem.
Namespaces are now a thing.
Capturing -- and processing -- lines of code is easier than ever...

Nearly every problem I had with fasm is gone with this update: thusly, my power grows rather... exponentially.

And I SWEAR that I will NOT use it for good. I shall be the most corrupt, bloodthirsty, deranged tyrant ever known to this accursed digital landscape of broken souls and forgotten dreams.

*I* will reforge the world with black smoldering flame.
*I* will bury my enemies in ill-and-damned obsidian caskets.
And *I* will feed their armies to a gigantic, ravenous mass grave...

Yes... YES! This is the moment!
PREPARE THE RITUAL ROOM (https://youtube.com/watch/...)

Couriers! Ride towards the homeland! Bring word of our success.

And you, page, fetch me my sombersteel graver...
I shall inscribe the spell into these very walls...
in the ELEVENTH degree!

** MANIACAL EVIL LAUGHTER **,So, one day I get up, and just happened to offhandedly predict that a holy war would be fought on this very site, by mighty botlords, with weaponized updoots as the deciding factor of every battle.

The lesson would then be that, maybe, just maybe, I should've shut the fuck up instead, as most of it has come to pass.

Anyway, the last part of the prediction was hexical pulling the plug on this site as the war escalated, so fingers crossed, but if a nuke hits the server I call dibs on the ever loving supreme 'I told you so'.,All of you, take note of this date: 12/10/2024.

You get upvoted by green dots, be suspicious.
You see the same date on their profiles, be suspicious.
You see their profiles boosting spam messages, well, you better be fucking suspicious.

There's a bit shy of two hundred of them already, and the numbers will continue to grow. We are getting fucked in the ass, I repeat, we are getting fucked in the ass.

This rectal warfare PSA has been brought to you by [EXTREMELY CENSORED],Ah, shit. First, I get downvoted a bunch, by a rogue jester bot I assume, then the retoornuke goes off, and with her account, even more of my hard-earned updoots lost into the ether.

How is this important? It isn't. I'm merely annoyed. Needed only a couple more to get myself a pet, I was so fuckin close maan. Now I need about 60 again, so not too bad actually, but if you see me shitposting at an increased pace, then you know why.,!dev, started listening to 70s Pentagram tunes and FUCK ME it's so good. Nothing like DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM to get me in the mood. For what? YOu figure it out, brb I'm gonna weave some spells.,So I'm brushing my teeth, and mama slams the door open. She says oh sorry, I thought the bathroom was empty. I say it's ok, I'm just brushing my teeth. But K'BYBIB, mama.

What? K'BYBIB? What are you speaking in? Hebrew or aramaic?
No. English. It's an acronym: Knock Before You Burst Into (a) Bathroom. 

A very simple rule, that everyone should follow. But a few days later, the exact same thing happens, and I repeat the advice, knowing I must've said this to her about a hundred times already.

On another occasion, she gets up from the dinner table in a hurry, then *almost* trips and falls to the ground. Her feet got stuck on the chair. Anyway she's fine. But I see this happen and say be careful mama, get up slowly or you could fall. Free your feet before you try to start walking.

Same pattern as before, she doesn't listen. So it happens again, and thankfully she also doesn't trip this time, but the problem is obvious. She may fall one day, or worse God forbid, and we can't be there at all times to make sure she doesn't get hurt.

This is constantly on my mind. Nothing serious has happened yet. Emphasis on "yet". Seems like a matter of time, and I hate to say it, but I don't think I can stop this. Mama doesn't have any disabilities, she just has to be more careful, but refuses to listen. So yeah. I'm only stressing and that's that, God willing.,Suddenly remembered that, at one point in time, every few rants here I would read something about wordpress, and how nightmarish working on this or that blazing dumpster funeral pyre was.

So, hot take: you deserve it.

I'm sorry wordpress devs, but you do. If the whole point is getting a site up and running "without extensive coding knowledge", then the whole point is not needing to hire a developer. You get that, right? These folks straight up tried to take your job, realized they couldn't, then came back crawling, and you accepted the offer right after getting spat in the face.

Mother fucker, have some self-respect. On both sides of the equation.

This foray into needlessly antagonizing my fellow programmers has been brought to you by RectSpace. Need to flip off Bertrand Wanker-Fuckfaceberg here and his dumbass fullstack chops? Just fire him! Bring your amateur pornovlog online TODAY with NO programming knowledge whatsoever -- you'll be sucking off webdeving limp-ass DICK in no time!

Use my promo code NEEDGULAG for 300% OFF your next romantic colonoscopy. That's cuadruple triple-double-long-u-int double-double-you dot dot dot nodecency-comma.io.com.ai to get PAID in CASH for 24/7 free parking inside your ASSHOLE. Big thanks to RectSpace for sponsoring this rant!,You were bound to miss it, so I immortalized the moment.,Two bits of WORD:

{You have turned my mourning into dancing for me; You have put off my sackcloth and girded me with gladness.}

{To the end that my tongue and my heart and everything glorious within me may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.}

Give thanks and praise.,A couple fucking brutal, merciless dungeon moments.

So first, we were having a chill kind of session. Throwing lots of jokes and shit, and I rolled with it. The baddie for the day, I felt inspired, and named him Fawq El-Fuqer, which yes, is very unfortunate.

Anyway, we avoid his goons and reach his impenetrable fortress of chronic masturbation, and it goes as well as you think. The rogue says hey, we gotta get him with his pants down (pause) literally. The cleric is skeptical at first, but she comes around to it.

And so we do it. I spin this tale of a man who's got a schedule tighter than his fucking asshole. El-Fuqer meticulously plans his shits, he makes it a whole ritual, even gives it a special name: Mud O'Clock.

We wait for his alarm to ring, and spring into action while he's taking a fat stinking fucking dump. The warrior kicks down the bathroom door and corners El-Fuqer while he's on the shitter, demanding satisfaction for their past romantic involment that's been strongly been hinted at, you see, she said Fuck the Fucker and I, that's history. And that's enough for a subplot if you ask me.

So where was I? Ah, yes, the rogue bursts in through the window shouting out "Mud O'Clock MOTHER FUCKER!!" and we immortalize the moment in the finest silks. The wizard then does a little Bane impression for some reason and a multitude of loud 'plops' are heard as El-Fuqer evacuates the entire content of his putrid guts.

He gets roughed up a little, you know nothing like interrogating someone after they nearly shit themselves to death. We reveal some oooh so unexpected plot twist about a portal to goddamn hell and it's like well, crap, we gotta do something about that. So the wizard and the rogue leave to give the warrior and El-Fuqer some, ehem, space to settle their score.

What followed was the most unexpected, most brilliant part of the whole session. She didn't just execute him in a brutal, gruesome manner, no, she went full fucking throttle. Forced El-Fuqer to eat his own cock and balls while sewing his ass shut, then had a bowl of bull testicle salad to drop a montanious fecal cake of biblical proportions upon his face.

Believe it or not, we made it into an emotional moment. Because everyone was shocked by how brutal the affair was. Warrior had a mental breakdown like, uuuh, I'm becoming the monsters I swore to fight ooh no. She starting shaking and crap, ran away and hid in an alley to weep, it begins raining and it's getting very dramatic, so I cook up some spirit of sorrow that goes in and helps her face her fears and shit through the power of friendship or whatever.

Moving on to second moment, this is shorter but I like it best. The cleric and another two extras went to an old shrine to try and prove the wizard wrong about his denial of prophecy. Thing is, they did the ritual wrong. And I'm usually very forgiving but I was feeling nasty after the whole sowing of the asshole thing. So I'm like, uh, I gave you fools VERY PRECISE instructions on how to perform this ritual, and you just did some wacky prayers to the moon nonsense, that's idolatry in-universe and out-of-universe too (depending on who you ask).

So I said fuck it, you guys had it coming. I whip out immortal ten-thousand year old elder sorceress bitch guardian of the holy sphincter, and it gets real pretty fucking quick. She's got sanctified heavy plate armor, blue fire torches coming out they fucking pauldrons, argent greatsword of anal judgement plus infinity, all the juiciest shit.

Anyway, the sorc descends from the sky in a pillar of azure flames and is like yo, drop that idolatrous shit right now or I'm gonna kill you all. They mistake her for angel or some shit, and are like hey chill, we're the good guys. But the sorc doesn't give a shit, and she says shut the fuck up or I'll send you to the Night Eternal, bitch.

I dunno why but the cleric and the other two extras don't get it, so they insist with the whole heyyyy we are not idolaters, we're your friends, we are questing for the mandinga mandango mcguffango. So she bisects one, breaks the neck of another, and decapitates the fucking cleric. It was awesome.

So what did we learn? idk, don't plan your dumps and don't pray to the fucking moon if you're standing on hallowed ground. *****,JUST IN: The unexpected sequel to my previous rant that NOBODY asked for!

I'll give it to you in dialogue form as it's more dramatic and *juicy* that way...

(Context: wizard used the warrior's blood, who descends from an ancient lineage of powerful sorcerors, to cast a high-level spell which allowed the party to teleport to safety when they were trapped and about to die. The warrior is worried about his crazy use of black magic, so she confronts him about it.)

"Alright, old man," she says, her tone serious, yet tinged with concern. "I couldn't help but notice the... let's call it 'unorthodox' spellcasting earlier. What was that about?"

"Well, you wanted me to draw the circle using golden dust and a lamb for the sacrifice?" Uzair raises an eyebrow, his tone riddled with sarcasm. "Because spells of that level of complexity require both things, you know? A circle and an offering." He explains calmly, then shakes his head. "But turns out, the blood of an Ashaffi accounts for both things if you draw the sigils with it. Hey, don't blame me, your own ancestors invented it!"

"Very funny, Uzair." Hashade crosses her arms, her expression unamused. "But seriously, that shit was utterly deranged. I can't have you going all 'Black Scorpion' on our ass, what with the demented use of blood magic, needlessly setting entire buildings ablaze and that mother fucking all-incinerating black hellfire inferno." Her voice is stern, but her eyes show genuine care. "You're... __BREAKING BAD__, old man! You have to chill."

"Oh, so is my wizardry getting on your neves now, is it?" He recoils back slightly in suprise, feeling offended. "We just spanked the Sanie's Guild buttcheeks until they were red and swollen, then proceeded to __FUCK__ them in the ASS with a *DIAMOND* fucking COCK. And you're complaining?"

Hashade's eye's reveal her agitation. "I'm not complaining, I'm concerned! We're not just fighting for ourselves, we're fighting for everyone else too! And if you start playing fast and loose with that kind of power, we're gonna have more than just *one* black smoldering crater to deal with." Her voice is firm, but it's clear she's trying to keep the situation from escalating. "Look, I know you're powerful, but that's not an excuse to go full-on mad scientist on us. We gotta keep our shit tight, yeah?"

"Concerned?!" He tilts his head to the side. "What, you think I'm becoming evil? Come on, spit it out!"

"Evil? No, I don't..." Hashade sighs, running a hand through her silver hair. "Oh no, you know what, yeah. I do. I think you're slowly turning evil." Her expression hardens. "You swapped your book of supplications for a grimoire detailing the most horrible shit in excruciating detail! You shouted out 'G-d is great' while witnessing a disastrous explosion that left everyone else traumatized! You joked around before and after cutting two guards in half, for fuck's sake!" She lowers her head and pinches her nose bridge. "I don't know, I'll admit that, I just don't know what's this shit that's gotten to you. But I don't like it, I really don't. I don't like where this is going, old man!"

"Well," He said, calmly. "you killed El-Fuqer by forcing him to eat his own cock and balls while sowing his ass shut and then took a fat stinking dump on his face." He quietly recalled the, ehem, 'little' incident. "But see, I don't waggle your fucking nutsack about the fucked up shit you've done. And I'm not going to start now."

"THAT'S DIFFERENT! THAT WAS __JUSTICE__!" Her eyes flashed with anger.

"JUSTICE?!! YOU CALL SHITTING ON A CORPSE 'JUSTICE'?!!" He pushed her to the side and stormed out. "I MAY BE AN EVIL WIZARD, BUT I NEVER DEFECATED ON MY ENEMIES, HASHADE. NEVER. FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

"Wait!" Her voice cracked. "You can't just leave like this!"

"I can." He didn't even look back. "And I am."

"I'm not leaving you alone!" She strides closer to him, ignoring the sting of his words. "I can't let you destroy yourself like this!"

(ROGUE BUSTS IN THROUGH THE KITCHEN) "ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, YOU TWO, GET A ROOM ALREADY!"

~ F I N ~,So, I have a nested ternary, right, and that's not very readable:

(x <= y ? z : (x <= z ? y : x));

The linter points this out and I'm like yeah, valid point. So I inline-F[*0] it:

if (x <= y)
········return z;
else if (x <= z)
········return y;
else
········return x;

Clearer? Kinda. Oh, but the linter doesn't like this either, and to be fair, valid point once again; an else-after-return *can* be quite confusing if you have it in the __middle__ of the F body, catches you by suprise.

However, I'd like to take a brief moment to waggle your nutsack, if you please. Because this is C++ and I'm picking a reference from a list of values, so I can't simply assout[*1] within the switch.

So I'm at the crossroads of life once again, losing man's toughest struggle as I sit on a metaphorical cigar, squirming while I unclench my asshole slowly for strictly defecatory purposes. Allow me to illustrate:

- If I ignore the linter, and leave the rest of the code unchanged, the checks are going to fail and the bot is going to taint my pristine PR with automated comments.
- But if I take the linter's advice, I have to do a slight rewrite of the damn thing plus every F that calls it, which means touching shit that has nothing to do with this issue.

So what's it gonna be? Flushing or shoving my own excrement? Oh, the thrills of it being (literally) SOLID, ie not the acronym, but may the Almighty punish Uncle Bob regardless.

NOTES:
[*0]: It means 'function,' what else?
[*1]: ASS-ign OUT-put, where 'out' is just some var. You modify the var within the F body and return the final value.,Turned 31 three days ago.

My **dad** was convinced that I was turning 30 instead lmao.

I had to do the math for him, he was questioning the fabric of reality for a second. Like baba 2025 sub 1994 eq 31, ok.

so anyway age--;,fknshit. Am I stressing about linting and formatting moreso than what the code itself does or is it just another hallucination?

I call it correctness paranoia. Bitch does it even compile. Yes, perhaps, but I absently-minded added a single newline somewhere, and that's no good. 

So re-read the diff again: oh.

const auto&
should be
const auto
probably.
F is not returning a ref...
Should it return a ref?

Fuck, I'm declaring this nonref, should I
T N(V)
or
T N = V

Plain old doesn't fucking matter most of the time, but what if I missed a detail somewhere and so it *does* matter here?

REREAD. AGAIN.
SLOWLY.
DYING.
DYING.
DYING.```