From: Tom Whore (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Date: Fri Mar 24 2000 - 18:02:50 PST
Im of a mixed mind about this topic. It has always seemed that the very
froth the tech path churns up is the very force that pulls so many off
thier "path" (being friday and late im not all too sure i can define it
any more than this). Of those I sat shoulder to stinky shoulder with in
basements getting pink eyed defcoused from glaring into the field of
green, prescious few have the spark left in them that made us feel
something more than the outcasts we were supposed by our peers and
something less than the exploreres we sought to become.
I myself have been spending more time away from my passionand more onthe
politic of the workplace of late. If it werent for WSMF and the projects I
do in that name I would count myself in that sad goodnight of
zoned out zombies.
Some how in trying to be DA MAN of their minds eye they become the husks
of their worst desires. Once strong minded coders site in meting as
logical construct atrophy . Buzz word miasma blinds the prospects of once
great strategic planners and far lookers toward the path most traveled
down. Even those who see themselves in the light of right and goodness
often trample more than nurture on the grounds they seek to build on.
Its friday, the woman i love has been out of town for a week, my job has
once again kept me from thought this day, and above that I think im
comming down with a fever. Maybe all that I am feeling is the oneset of a
long nights journey into sleep.
Maybe all i need is some hot zerodayz and Mick foley to win the belt.
Dreams do come true.
"I AM an ancient reluctant conscript.
On the soup wagons of Xerxes I was a cleaner of pans.
On the march of Miltiades' phalanx I had a haft and head;
I had a bristling gleaming spear-handle.
Red-headed Csar picked me for a teamster.
He said, "Go to work, you Tuscan bastard,
Rome calls for a man who can drive horses."
The units of conquest led by Charles the Twelfth,
The whirling whimsical Napoleonic columns:
They saw me one of the horseshoers.
I trimmed the feet of a white horse Bonaparte swept the night stars with.
Lincoln said, "Get into the game; your nation takes you."
And I drove a wagon and team and I had my arm shot off
At Spottsylvania Court House.
I am an ancient reluctant conscript. "
[---===tomwhore@ wsmf.org inetarena.com slack.net===---]
WSMF's web site ----http://wsmf.org
This archive was generated by hypermail 2b29 : Fri Mar 24 2000 - 18:03:14 PST