Finally, .bin—binary. The file is compact, ready to be executed, the distilled outcome of human choices and engineering constraints. Binary is indifferent to nuance but carries the sum of all design decisions. It’s where the human-curated setup, the optimization ethos of fitgirl, the intentionality of selective, and the cultural filter of French converge into something run-ready.
In practice, such a file suggests a user experience that’s fast, minimal, and comfortably francophone—an installation journey that respects the user’s time, storage, and linguistic preferences. It refuses the default of maximal choice and embraces the confidence of curated experiences: a small, decisive package that gets you where you want to go without unnecessary detours.
The name arrives like a file-system riddle: setup-fitgirl-selective-french.bin. It’s compact, binary-sounding, and oddly human—part installation routine, part cultural riff. Imagine it as a digital artifact that sits at the intersection of software, curation, and language: a packaged decision, a selective installer that knows what to keep, what to skip, and how to speak in French when it matters.
That is the charm of setup-fitgirl-selective-french.bin—a tiny filename that tells a fuller story: about design choices, cultural adaptation, and the quiet elegance of doing less, better, in the language you prefer.