My Christmas gifts –or– Representing
Friday, 22 December 2006

Well, it’s Friday of a Christmas weekend and I just want to say this. Please get your presents to me earlier next year. I hate last minute regifting.






I’ve found that people who are great at something are not so much convinced of their own greatness as mystified at why everyone else seems so incompetent.
Friday, 22 December 2006
Well, it’s Friday of a Christmas weekend and I just want to say this. Please get your presents to me earlier next year. I hate last minute regifting.
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I have been checking back around Christmas for like a decade.
[Sed · :P It’s a Perl joke. They said the new major version release would be Christmas. When Christmas came and went, they said, We never said which Christmas.]
[I have some interesting ideas and have done a fair amount of work on and off toward them, but… here we are in 2021 and my desire to reach out to the world on the wane.]
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One bright day in late autumn a family of Ants were bustling about in the warm sunshine, drying out the grain they had stored up during the summer, when a starving Grasshopper, his fiddle under his arm, came up and humbly begged for a bite to eat.
“What!” cried the Ants in surprise, “haven’t you stored anything away for the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer?”
“I didn’t have time to store up any food,” whined the Grasshopper; “I was so busy making music that before I knew it the summer was gone.”
The Ants shrugged their shoulders in disgust.
“Making music, were you?” they cried. “Very well; now dance!” And they turned their backs on the Grasshopper and went on with their work.
Take that, subspace.