Article first appeared in, August, 2002








VOL 1 NO 1


By Richard Ames Hart

I'm just dying to tell you this story while I have my clothes on. First I can change this story, even while. That's what the old age ain't kek! Ideas that burn. Of course the ol'e p.p. froze ideas fo' so long! I played with one when I was a kik. Rubber type, ach letter sooo jez right! line by line I made my first story. Froze it, turned the crank. Such beauty. T' p.p.

Made I a c.p. for long long livin', I could churn out those ol'e cmptr. pgrmes and lerned so well how I could change it. Syntax debugger - what? - okay, compiiiiler. Throw anything at it. Go check, jus' to see how it throws out damn fuckin' bugs! People shook their heads, too, comin' from th' ptr room. "And we thought," in a hughff, "yhou were a hotshot progrmmer! Hah!"

Thewr was this lade whoo saw up and buggin' who had some ideas to shit down my throuat aftter she took my head off! E-mails "I was on your sitee so HALF AN HOURS and I think you realllly should do what I weay!" Okay, I checkedd the logs and what you think? 5 mintes, 6 outlandish on a visit. So guress who lied! Bitch@! Bitch@! Bitch!

Oh the old's shcool I sing about can't changbe anyhthing. Theyh juist don't get it. jUste becasue it's an articlee aRctical articled in a magazien, tehy cannottt change it ast all, you know who I mean! Ha! Poop! Ooops. All rights, so room for an artist I azp bugs all zwappg!!@ with an ealectronic twentie-first century exlegctronic artciala maked . No. I take mby clothe off.



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