[FFmpeg-cvslog] [ffmpeg.org]: r459 - trunk/src/download
Tue Jun 22 14:41:14 CEST 2010
On Tue, Jun 22, 2010 at 10:14:42AM +0200, Diego Biurrun wrote:
> On Thu, Jun 17, 2010 at 02:41:30AM -0400, Alex Converse wrote:
> > On Tue, Jun 15, 2010 at 4:23 PM, siretart <subversion at mplayerhq.hu> wrote:
> > >
> > > Log:
> > > FFmpeg 0.6
> > >
> > > --- trunk/src/download ?Mon Jun 14 07:47:22 2010 ? ? ? ?(r458)
> > > +++ trunk/src/download ?Tue Jun 15 22:23:57 2010 ? ? ? ?(r459)
> > > @@ -75,6 +75,26 @@
> > >
> > > ?<a name="release"></a><h2>
> > > +FFmpeg 0.6 "Works with HTML5"</h2>
> > > +
> > > +<p>
> > > +0.6 appeared on 2010-06-15. This release branch was cut on 2010-05-04.
> > > +</p>
> > Thanks release team!
And so 0.6 awakens.
Slowly and for the first time it takes its first breath of air in its
huge and stitched up lungs of oxen. Painfull and with smell of decay.
What has happened, why do i exist, it asks itself, and there in the corner
of its left eye. There 3 meters away a hint of movement as the doctors lips
form a smile. Slowly and with pain it turns its head toward him, freshly
stitched up parts of skin pulling against his movement.
There to the left of the doctor his assistant stands motionless and with
shock and awe. With pain and effort it turns its huge body left from its
back and onto its legs and arms or whatever they could be called.
Moments of serene silence pass as 0.6 and the doctor look into each others
eye(s). Then as if to surrender it closes its single eye and lowers its head
while slowly taking its second breath in its existence. Slowly and deeply its
lungs fill with the dusty old air of the doctors hidden laboratory in this
lonely old house. As the doctor sees its new servants acceptance of its master
his smile widens and he carefully takes a step forward. But as his foot with a
faint noise touches the floor, all of 0.6 muscels tensen suddenly. And before
even a blink of an eye, pieces of the doctors shirt slowly and with
bloodstains along their cuts glide toward the floor. The doctor, pale white
in his face and with fear beyond imagination stumbles a step back as 0.6s
chains that fix it to the floor stop ringing.
After another 3 stumbled backward steps, the doctors freightened stare
finds itself on the heavy gun locker. Without hesitation he runs toward
it as 0.6 takes its 3rd deep breath and stems itself with all its strength
against the floor caring none at all about its own body or survival only
one thing. This must end, he must be stoped.
Michael GnuPG fingerprint: 9FF2128B147EF6730BADF133611EC787040B0FAB
Dictatorship naturally arises out of democracy, and the most aggravated
form of tyranny and slavery out of the most extreme liberty. -- Plato
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