let me tell you a story

"How should I begin this // I am so offended."

"I lost 30 mil // so I made another 30 // 'cause unlike Hammer / 30 million can't hurt me."

Kanye West, "So Appalled"

Why write this? I currently can't get high, so why not? It's one reason. 

More germane, why have I written any of the dozen or so I've had since my first, created in 1994 at Virginia Tech as part of the first ever HTML course taught there? I got an A, certainly not due to style; all HTML looked was eyestrain feces then and remained until MySpace took it next-level. 

But it contained stories. My professor read them, and gave them to his grad students. They gave them to their friends. 

I don't know what my student peers were writing about in their web pages. The "why" concept of a web page was highly nebulous outside academia and perhaps news outlets then. Sort of like Twitter remains. 

Maybe more important to understand why I've abandoned or deleted them: nobody reads them for pleasure. 

My pleasure.

And in my arrogance I'll point out I generally get paid to write things, both the pleasure, consternation, laughter, horror and disgust of any willing or forced to read, and and at least get published in places where people buy the platform and have the opportunity to read it.  

So why waste that time, again, now? As time is so fucking precious. 

Because posting in social media isn't writing, and I could be dead before I actually start publishing things in things people do read. 

And I am arrogant enough to state out loud there are things in here that you might enjoy reading, for laughter, or disgust. Ideally both, at once. 

20 years writing in obscure industry journals and texts, saving small parts of the I.T. world, generating chaos all the while, directed me away from my true love. All that driven by being a pussy: I wanted to tidy English in college, to read and write and teach. To secure parent's financial support, I avoided a conflict and went into Computer Science.

I took the dark path: the path into a technology career. A secure, happy life. I was OK at it; nothing special, all who know me would agree. I had the honor to teach and meet those infinitely better than I, and that was my greatest contribution in that industry. I could name them all, but it's not time yet. 

As the clock potentially runs down rapidly, I'm less secure than in my life. Although strangely somewhat happier than before. Not because of this self-generated maelstrom, in spite of it. 

Another challenge to overcome. I'll avoid grandiosity by via some bullshit like "perhaps the last challenge".

I never thought I would, but I love challenges. Currently, I have three:

1. Stay sober. Not necessarily because I want to, but failure to will speed up The Clock. 
2. Do my best to stay healthy. Some health things can't be solved, only treated to delay the Ultimate Reward. 
3. Find a source of income I can leverage without blowing the first two.

Oh, four:

    4. Write something that will be puzzled, and remembered. 

So here we are. You now know everything about me, except the details. 

But the details are the fun part.

Let's begin the final round, at last, together.

Rick Shangle

Falls Church, Virginia

November 21, 2021