I have sublimated my enthusiasm for writing in two entirely different ways in this whole five years gone like an extended fart.
One, in precise technical writing where I functionally specify the ins and outs of diagrams referred to in the preceding pages, to a largely indifferent audience who only require the presence of text.
And I have tested this by occasionally getting poetic when defining the schema for a database, by making the field names scan in iambic meter, or in blank verse acrostic spelling philosophers' names.
On the other hand I have, since 2006, fairly spat away a whole lot of sentences on twitter, all of them finely good in heart and contemporary relevance: diskgrinder twattery.
But all the time I've had these two poles of unpleasance : I've always wanted to write something a little more substantial, something more, something less ephemeral: not a description of process and not a reaction in 140 characters to continuing anomie.
But I didn't have a plot to hang it together.
Now I do.
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