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From: Michael S <already5chosen@yahoo.com>
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Subject: Re: encapsulating directory operations
Date: Thu, 29 May 2025 23:24:46 +0300
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On Thu, 29 May 2025 21:24:57 +0200
David Brown <david.brown@hesbynett.no> wrote:

> On 29/05/2025 10:39, Richard Heathfield wrote:
> > On 29/05/2025 08:27, Lawrence D'Oliveiro wrote: =20
> >> On Fri, 23 May 2025 23:13:20 +0100, Richard Heathfield wrote:
> >> =20
> >>> And who cares about future instability if C90 remains just as
> >>> stable as ever it was? =20
> >>
> >> Even with the problems with const?
> >>
> >> =A0=A0=A0=A0 char *strstr(const char *haystack, const char *needle);
> >>
> >> Dennis Ritchie pointed out the trouble with that. =20
> >=20
> > Is C90 perfect? No, of course not. "C is quirky, flawed, and an
> > enormous success."
> >=20
> > Is there value in having a powerful, widely-available language
> > that, when you turn your back for a moment, stays *exactly* where
> > you left it? Hell, yes.
> >  =20
>=20
> That's one of the reasons I like C99 and C11, and look forward to
> C23. Once implemented, they don't change either.
>=20
> I agree with all your are arguments on this, except for one - I can't=20
> understand why you think C90 is different from later C standards in
> this regard.
>=20

The Great Slow Kings
Roger Zelazny

Drax and Dran sat in the great Throne Hall of  Glan,  discussing  life.
Monarchs  by  virtue  of  superior intellect and physique--and the fact
that they were the last two survivors of the race of Glan--theirs was
a  divided rule over the planet and their one subject, Zindrome, the
palace robot.

Drax had been musing for the past four centuries (theirs was a sluggish
sort) over the possibility of life on other planets in the galaxy.

Accordingly, "Dran," said  he, addressing the other (who was becoming
mildly curious as to his thoughts), "Dran, I've been thinking. There
may  be life on other planets in the galaxy."

Dran considered  his  response  to  this, as the world wheeled several
times about its sun.

"True," he finally agreed, "there may."

After several months Drax shot back, "If there is, we ought  to find
out."

"Why?"  asked  Dran  with  equal  promptness, which caused the other to
suspect that he, too, had been thinking along these lines.

So he measured his next statement out cautiously, first testing each
word within the plated retort of his reptilian skull.

"Our kingdom is rather underpopulated at present," he observed. "It
would be good to have many subjects once more."

Dran regarded him askance, then slowly turned his head. He closed one
eye and half-closed the other, taking full stock of his co-ruler, whose
appearance, as he had suspected, was unchanged since the last time he
had looked.

"That, also, is true," he noted. "What do you suggest we do?"

This time Drax turned, reappraising him, eye to eye.

I think we ought to find out if there is life on other planets in the
galaxy."

"Hmm."

Two quick rounds of the seasons went unnoticed, then, "Let me think
about it," he said, and turned away.

After what he deemed a polite period of time, Drax coughed.

"Have you thought sufficiently?"

"No."

Drax struggled to focus his eyes on the near-subliminal streak of
bluish light which traversed, re-traversed and re-re-traversed the Hall
as he waited.

"Zindrome!" he finally called out.

The robot slowed his movements to a statue-like immobility to
accommodate his master. A feather duster protruded from his right limb.

"You called, great Lord of Glan?"

"Yes, Zindrome, worthy subject. Those old spaceships which we
constructed in happier days, and never got around to using. Are any of
them still capable of operation?"

"I'll check, great Lord."

He seemed to change position slightly.

"There are three hundred eighty-two," he announced, "of which four are
in functioning condition, great Lord. I've checked all the operating
circuits."

"Drax," warned Dran, "you are arrogating unauthorized powers to
yourself once more. You should have conferred with me before issuing
that order."

"I apologize," stated the other. "I simply wanted to expedite matters,
should your decision be that we conduct a survey."

"You have anticipated my decision correctly," nodded Dran, "but your
eagerness seems to bespeak a hidden purpose."

"No purpose but the good of the realm," smiled the other.

"That may be, but the last time you spoke of 'the good of the realm'
the civil strife which ensued cost us our other robot."

"I have learned my lesson and profited thereby. I shall be more
judicious in the future."

"I hope so. Now, about this investigation--which part of the galaxy do
you intend to investigate first?"

A tension-filled pause ensued.

"I had assumed," murmured Drax, "that you would conduct the expedition.
Being the more mature monarch, yours should be a more adequate decision
as to whether or not a particular species is worthy of our enlightened
rule."

"Yes, but your youth tends to make you more active than I. The journey
should be more expeditiously conducted by you." He emphasized the word
"expeditiously."

"We could both go, in separate ships," offered Drax. "That would be
truly expeditious--"

Their heated debating was cut short by a metallic cough-equivalent.

"Masters," suggested Zindrome, "the half-life of radioactive materials
being as ephemeral as it is, I regret to report that only one spaceship
is now in operational condition."

"That settles it, Dran. _You_ go. It will require a steadier _rrand_ to
manage an underpowered ship."

"And leave you to foment civil strife and usurp unfranchised powers?
No, you go!"

"I suppose we could _both_ go," sighed Drax.

"Fine! Leave the kingdom leaderless! _That_ is the kind of muddleheaded
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