Gone would be something else, which was never backported...
It will lurk in the dark corners of the earth till the next age of man.
For what terrible things simply disappear in the night? No, they lurk alone, growing hungry, perhaps forgotten, but not gone, not lost,
Waiting. Only waiting.
It may be many a year, but I will see this cursed wretched thing again, and misery will be it's company, then, as it was before. I will see it's bared fangs and feel it's claws and know it was always there, waiting, for when I had the chance, I merely put it out of mind.
Gone is what this thing deserved, erased, purged from all of it's refuges, it's uninstaller back ported to every platform, it's install media listed as malware and flagged, _silent deletion_. The piles of old installers not buried, but burned with a cleansing flame.
But back porting is tiresome, and it is the bane of man that we forget.
So it sits with a silvery disk in the inky and lightness dark, waiting, waiting for the light, waiting to be free. Waiting to speak to other things that lurked in the old dark, waiting to hear the response of the waking old ones, and the old queues spew pages of it's dark words till the forests weep and rivers of black ink turn to dust.
Biting the hand that feeds IT
