I became an Emacs user at HUJI. The CS school IT group were fond of Emacs, and set it as the default editor in the computer labs.
And I kept using it since, until I decided I’m too young to be a retrogrouch, bought a license for the highly praised Sublime Text, and made it my default editor.
I tried to like Sublime, and used it exclusively for four months, before accepting it won’t work, and going back to using Emacs.
This wasn’t because of any major issue with Sublime: it is a very well made editor, and easy to extend. But it only extends so far, while Emacs is infinitely extensible.
Or rather, as any Emacs veteran would tell you, Emacs isn’t an editor, but a system that can handle text buffers and windows, and run LISP code to manipulate those. Therefore, it can do everything, and you can practically live in Emacs, as some do, using the underline OS just for bootstrapping it.
But I myself am not that much of an Emacs wizard — I wish I was, but I hardly know any Elisp, and can never find the time to learn — Yet I can (with no more than moderate effort) get Emacs to do most of what I want, but had a long list of things I couldn’t make Sublime do.
Most were trivial, but they added up. And one was grave: I couldn’t get it keybindings to be compatible enough with Emacs’, which are now so worn into my brain, I don’t think I could learn another set this side of the river Styx.
As Kieran Healy describes in beautiful prose:
But even if TextMate 2 drops from the sky fully-formed and marveled at by all, Emacs will still be there, waiting. It will be there when the icecaps melt and the cities drown, when humanity destroys itself in fire and zombies, when the roaches finally achieve sentience, take over, and begin using computers themselves — at which point its various Ctrl-Meta key-chords will seem not merely satisfyingly ergonomic for the typical arthropod, but also direct evidence for the universe’s Intelligent Design by some six-legged, multi-jointed God.(source)