Just for Fun: The Story of an Accidental Revolutionary
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Then eventually civilization exists purely for entertain ment. Okay, well, not purely. And it doesn't have to be bad entertainment. The ancient Greeks are known for having had a very strong social order, and they also had a lot of entertainment. They're known for having had the be�t philosophers of their time. D: Okay, so how does this tie in to the meaning of life? L: It doesn't really. It just says that . . . that's kind of the problem here. D: This is the little link you're going to have to think about. P: Mama, look at the cows. L: So, if you know that life is all about this progression, then obviously your purpose in life is to make this pro gression. And the progression is not one single progres sion. Everything you do is part of many progressions. It can also be, "What can I do to make society better?" You know that you're a part of society. You know that society is moving in this direction. You can help society move in this direction. T: (holding nose): It smells horrible here. L: So what this builds up to is that in the end we' re all here to have fun. We might as well sit down and relax, and enjoy the ride. D: Just for fun? x xii jus t for Fun I. I was an ugly child. What can I say? I hope some day Hollywood makes a film about Linux, and they'll be sure to cast somebody who looks like Tom Cruise in the lead role-but in the non-Hollywood version, things don't work out that way. Don't get me wrong. It's not as if I looked like the Hunch back of Notre Dame. Envision instead large front teeth, so that anybody seeing a picture of me in my younger years gets a slightly beaverish impression. Imagine also a complete lack of taste in clothes, coupled with the traditional oversized Torvalds nose, and the picture starts to complete in your mind. The nose, I'm sometimes told, is "stately. " And people well, at least in our family-say that the size of a man's nose is indicative of other things, too. But tell that to a boy in his teens, and he won't much care. To him, the nose only serves to over shadow the teeth. The picture of the profiles of three generations of Torvalds men is just a painful reminder that yes, there is more nose than man there. Or so it seems at the time. Now, to add to the picture, start filling in the details. Brown hair (what here in the United States is called blond, but in Scandi navia is just "brown"), blue eyes, and a slight �hortsightedness that makes wearing glasses a good idea. And, as wearing them possibly takes attention away from the nose, wear them I do. All the time. Oh, and I already mentioned the atrocious taste in clothes. Blue is the color of choice, so that usually means blue jeans with a 3 blue turtleneck. Or maybe turquoise. Whatever. Happily, our fam ily wasn't very much into photography. That way there's less incriminating evidence. There are a few photographs. In one of them I'm around thirteen years old, posing with my sister Sara, who is sixteen months you9ger. She looks fine. But I'm a gangly vision, a skinny pale kid contorting for the photographer, who was probably my mother. She most likely snapped the little gem on her way out the door to her job as an editor at the Finnish News Agency. Being born at the very end of the year, on the 28th of December, meant that I was pretty much the youngest in my class at school. And that in turn meant the smallest. Later on, being half a year younger than most of your classmates doesn't matter. But it certainly does during the first few years of school. And do you know what ? Surprisingly, none of it really mat ters all that much. Being a beaverish runt with glasses, bad hair days most of the time (and really bad hair days the rest of the time), and bad clothes doesn't really matter. Because I had a charming personality. Not. No, let's face it, I was a nerd. A geek. From fairly early on. I didn't duct-tape my glasses together, but I might as well have, because I had all the other traits. Good at math, good at physics, and with no social graces whatsoever. And this was before being a . nerd was considered a good thing. Everybody has probably known someone in school like me. The boy who is known as being best at math-not because he stud ies hard, but just because he is. I was that person in my class. But let me fill in the picture some more, before you start feeling too sorry for me. A nerd I may have been, and a runt, but I did okay. I wasn't exactly athletic, but I wasn't a hopeless klutz either. The game of choice during breaks at school was "brannboll" a game of skill and speed in which two teams try to decimate each other by throwing a ball around. And while I wasn't ever the top player, I was usually picked fairly early on. 4 }11st for Fun So in the social rankings I might have been a nerd, but, on the whole, school was good. I got good grades without having to work at it-never truly great grades, exactly because I didn't work at it. And an accepted place in the social order. Nobody else really seemed to care too much about my nose; this was almost certainly, in retrospect, because they cared about their own problems a whole lot more. Looking back, I realize that most other children seem to have had pretty bad taste in clothes, too. We grow up and suddenly somebody else makes that particular decision. In my case, it's the marketing staffs for high-tech companies, the people who select the T-shirts and jackets that will be given away free at conferences. These days, I dress pretty much exclusively in vendorware, so I never have to pick out clothes. And I have a wife to make the deci sions that complete my wardrobe, to pick out things like sandals and socks. So I never have to worry about it again. And I've grown into my nose. At least for now, I'm more man than nose. 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