Stob [We last heard from the Sons of Khan in 2010. The scriptures continue - Ed.]
The woes of Techdom
- And it came to pass that the seasons rose and fell, and financial crisis waned while new financial crisis waxed, and the Kimjongilia flower did wither and fade on the vine.
- But misfortune struck the code cutters of Java, who were still on their never-ending pilgrimage to the land of Lambda, whence other pilgrims had long since been and gone and shrunk the T-shirt.
- And they awakened one morning to discover that they no longer worshipped the Sun god, but now did owe their allegiance unto the Mighty Beard. Bummer.
- But the Sharpers of Dotnet were also troubled, especially the cult of Silver Light. And they looked fearfully upon the antics of the high priest of the Softies, saying: What the blazes doth Fester think he playeth at?
- However, the Sharpers were laughing compared with the fate of the tribe of Flashinites. For the departed god Steve had cursed them with a great curse.
- And He had stationed a cherubim with a flaming sword which turned every direction to guard the way to the store of apps, and banished them from the sweet money orchards of Cupertino.
- Wherefore the king of the Flashinites, that is called Adobe, did consider hard and long.
- Yeah, he considered for longer than it taketh a Dellish machine to reboot with yet another Acrobat upgrade.
- Then, when he had finished thinking, Adobe did ungird his loins. And he did conceal the sword of resistance into the scabbard of abrupt capitulation, and the shield of technical leadership into the cupboard-under-the-stairs of user base abandonment.
- Yet even the Æsthetes, that art the disciples which loveth the Jesus phone the most, were discontent.
- Wherefore the language of the Æsthetes was Æbjective C.
- And this Æbjective C is about as æsthetic as the secret mouldy side of the last orange in the bowl, that one discovereth abruptly when one taketh it up.
- Yet the Æsthetes admitted this not.
- And so it went on, among all the tribes and cults and sects in the land of developers, there flourished the stinking weed of discontent.
- And every geek that micturateth against the wall was baffled and afraid.
- And in those times the elders of the tribe of the Sons of Kahn did live in the discotheque of Embarcadearohdearohdearyme. And they looked out upon this chaos.
- And they saw that it was good.
- For one elder spake up in this manner: if we punt out a decent version of Delphi now, we could be onto a fantastic hearts-and-minds win, and we will enjoy the Second Coming of Pascal.
- For all we need do is make it more modern than Java, and more 'native'-allowing-the-inference-but-certainly-not-actually-stating-faster than C#, and more Apple-friendly than Flash, and less hideous than Æbjective C.
- And targetting not only on both 32- and 64-bit Windows, but also Mac OS and iOS.
- So the blessed users of Delphi may loll around in the sweet money orchards of Cupertino.
- And little children shall once more dangle their elses in the limpid brook, and weave repeat/until loops from honeysuckle blossoms, and even declare local procedures.
- And the scourge of the curlybracket shall be driven back.
- And when the Sons of Kahn heard this, they cried out, saying: Yeah Yay! The Second Coming!