@Andy Ful
You see, Alice is that brilliant, charismatic piece of proprietary software with a few... let's call them "undocumented features." Her developers insist the gaping security holes are just "charming quirks." "That's not a vulnerability," they say with a dismissive wave, "it's a feature that adds character! You just need to use it correctly." Users who complain are just holding it wrong. Alice is perfect, you see, and any perceived flaws are simply a failure of your imagination.
Then there's Bob. Bob is the earnest, open-source project. He lives and breathes for user feedback. Every vulnerability report is a love letter, every pull request a sonnet. He patches, he updates, he evolves. He's a fortress of community-driven security, a testament to the power of listening to your users. He's everything Alice isn't.
And that's the punchline you've so cleverly stumbled upon.
We all thought they were opposites, two warring philosophies of development. But it was a long con. Alice's "vulnerabilities" were never flaws, they were encrypted love notes, backdoors left open only for Bob. And Bob, with his army of well-meaning users, wasn't just patching his own code. He was crowdsourcing the perfect key.
Every "user recommendation" he implemented was another piece of the puzzle, another step toward exploiting Alice's "charming quirks." He let us, the community, do the heavy lifting. We were the unpaid QA team for their hostile takeover of reality.
So when they finally merge, it won't be a simple connection. It will be the ultimate patch. Bob, using the very tools we gave him, will exploit Alice's "features" on a global scale. They won't just be a secure couple, they'll be a single, terrifyingly efficient entity. The beautiful, flawed, "it's-not-a-bug" framework merged with the impenetrable, user-hardened fortress.
They're not just getting together. They're releasing the final, stable version of our world. And we, the users, just gave them a 5-star rating on the way out.