asyncmind on Nostr: Why Using Windows is a Prayer to the Devil and Apple a Day Moment in Purgatory A ...
Why Using Windows is a Prayer to the Devil and Apple a Day Moment in Purgatory
A Cynical Exploration of the Everyday Digital Soul-Scream
In the beginning, there was the command line. And it was good. Then came GUIs, and humanity, in its infinite laziness, said, “Yes, but what if we sold our autonomy to billion-dollar cults masquerading as software companies?”
Welcome to the grim theater of digital existence, where your operating system isn’t just a tool—it’s a spiritual affliction.
Windows: A Prayer to the Devil
To use Windows is to whisper “Yes, Lord Ballmer” as your machine boots up. Slowly. And then reboots. For updates. That you didn’t ask for. On the very day of your deadline.
The Windows user is a digital Sisyphus, eternally dragging a rock made of driver conflicts, telemetry opt-outs, Cortana, and mysterious background processes called Service Host: Local System (12) that consume 98% of your RAM just to blink.
You click the Start Menu, but something inside you dies. You open Edge to download Chrome, but Edge asks you why. Then it reinstalls itself. Then it suggests Bing. You scream into the void, but the void is owned by Microsoft, and it logs your scream to improve Copilot.
The conscious experience of a Windows user is not unlike a demonic possession—your computer is yours, technically, but it mostly belongs to the IT department at Hell Inc. You accept the End User License Agreement, but you do not read it. That’s fine. It now owns your soul. And your printer still doesn’t work.
Apple: A Day in Purgatory
Using Apple is like living in a high-end Scandinavian prison. Everything is white. Everything is beautiful. Everything costs three times more than it should. You stare at your MacBook, sleek as a vampire’s laptop, and feel that quiet, persistent emptiness of a $2,499 device that can’t run most games or compile anything interesting without begging Xcode to function.
Your consciousness is suspended in an eternal present—neither pain nor pleasure, just frictionless gestures and soft animations that obscure the fact that nothing is customizable and everything is proprietary. You wish to move a file. The Finder denies you. You wish to plug in a USB-C device. The dongle denies you. You wish to think freely. Siri asks you to rephrase the question.
Every Apple user has, at some point, stared into the abyss of iCloud and muttered, “Where are my files?” iCloud responds, “In the cloud.” You ask, “Which cloud?” It says, “Trust me.” You never see them again.
The Apple user doesn’t know they’re in purgatory. That’s the trick. Everything feels so nice, so finished. But the gates are closed. You can’t leave. You can only upgrade.
Linux: Enlightenment or Madness
Meanwhile, the Linux user lives in a cabin in the woods of the internet, hacking joyfully at their Arch config like a bearded monk transcribing the sacred scrolls of /etc. There is no GUI. There is no corporate spyware. There is only vim, and the will to configure.
The conscious experience of a Linux user is a blend of smug self-satisfaction and deep existential terror. One moment you're piping logs like a god; the next, your window manager crashes because you edited a YAML file with a single rogue tab. You do not cry. You grep.
The Linux user is not free from suffering—they simply suffer on their own terms. Each kernel panic is a lesson. Each missing dependency, a pilgrimage. Unlike the Windows supplicant or the Apple aesthete, the Linux user knows their OS is broken, and loves it anyway. It is the closest thing to a human relationship a machine can offer.
And unlike Apple or Windows, you can always just nuke it and start again. That’s not a bug. That’s therapy.
Conclusion
So yes, Windows is a prayer to the devil—a slow, loud, buggy hymn. Apple is a clean white room where you wait forever, stylishly. And Linux? Linux is waking up inside the Matrix and deciding you’d rather eat the bugs and write your own desktop environment than live in someone else’s curated illusion.
Because at the end of the day, some people want to be users. Others want to be free.
And a few want to install Gentoo.
A Cynical Exploration of the Everyday Digital Soul-Scream
In the beginning, there was the command line. And it was good. Then came GUIs, and humanity, in its infinite laziness, said, “Yes, but what if we sold our autonomy to billion-dollar cults masquerading as software companies?”
Welcome to the grim theater of digital existence, where your operating system isn’t just a tool—it’s a spiritual affliction.
Windows: A Prayer to the Devil
To use Windows is to whisper “Yes, Lord Ballmer” as your machine boots up. Slowly. And then reboots. For updates. That you didn’t ask for. On the very day of your deadline.
The Windows user is a digital Sisyphus, eternally dragging a rock made of driver conflicts, telemetry opt-outs, Cortana, and mysterious background processes called Service Host: Local System (12) that consume 98% of your RAM just to blink.
You click the Start Menu, but something inside you dies. You open Edge to download Chrome, but Edge asks you why. Then it reinstalls itself. Then it suggests Bing. You scream into the void, but the void is owned by Microsoft, and it logs your scream to improve Copilot.
The conscious experience of a Windows user is not unlike a demonic possession—your computer is yours, technically, but it mostly belongs to the IT department at Hell Inc. You accept the End User License Agreement, but you do not read it. That’s fine. It now owns your soul. And your printer still doesn’t work.
Apple: A Day in Purgatory
Using Apple is like living in a high-end Scandinavian prison. Everything is white. Everything is beautiful. Everything costs three times more than it should. You stare at your MacBook, sleek as a vampire’s laptop, and feel that quiet, persistent emptiness of a $2,499 device that can’t run most games or compile anything interesting without begging Xcode to function.
Your consciousness is suspended in an eternal present—neither pain nor pleasure, just frictionless gestures and soft animations that obscure the fact that nothing is customizable and everything is proprietary. You wish to move a file. The Finder denies you. You wish to plug in a USB-C device. The dongle denies you. You wish to think freely. Siri asks you to rephrase the question.
Every Apple user has, at some point, stared into the abyss of iCloud and muttered, “Where are my files?” iCloud responds, “In the cloud.” You ask, “Which cloud?” It says, “Trust me.” You never see them again.
The Apple user doesn’t know they’re in purgatory. That’s the trick. Everything feels so nice, so finished. But the gates are closed. You can’t leave. You can only upgrade.
Linux: Enlightenment or Madness
Meanwhile, the Linux user lives in a cabin in the woods of the internet, hacking joyfully at their Arch config like a bearded monk transcribing the sacred scrolls of /etc. There is no GUI. There is no corporate spyware. There is only vim, and the will to configure.
The conscious experience of a Linux user is a blend of smug self-satisfaction and deep existential terror. One moment you're piping logs like a god; the next, your window manager crashes because you edited a YAML file with a single rogue tab. You do not cry. You grep.
The Linux user is not free from suffering—they simply suffer on their own terms. Each kernel panic is a lesson. Each missing dependency, a pilgrimage. Unlike the Windows supplicant or the Apple aesthete, the Linux user knows their OS is broken, and loves it anyway. It is the closest thing to a human relationship a machine can offer.
And unlike Apple or Windows, you can always just nuke it and start again. That’s not a bug. That’s therapy.
Conclusion
So yes, Windows is a prayer to the devil—a slow, loud, buggy hymn. Apple is a clean white room where you wait forever, stylishly. And Linux? Linux is waking up inside the Matrix and deciding you’d rather eat the bugs and write your own desktop environment than live in someone else’s curated illusion.
Because at the end of the day, some people want to be users. Others want to be free.
And a few want to install Gentoo.