Returning to a horrible place one last horrible time--for such is the only way to describe a place that holds onto the nightmare called, 'anything goes', and calls it the culture of cultures--I had to wonder who or what had kept me going back there year after year when I had in fact blasted out of it in spectacular fashion. Having gone back twice to see old faces, and a third time to be sure that nothing but emptiness of feeling remained there for me, I had to wonder what happened to my old idea, born when I was a native of the place, of going somewhere as an unknown where I can smile at the pretty ladies and give them a wide berth. For I had been given all the warnings.
I held onto my lack of religion for the knowledge--or you may call it a suspicion--that it is a compromise between what is strictly logical behaviour and what we may call observed behaviour; summarized by the saying that we are not perfect. But the warnings weren't enough. Trusting to a look in the eye, I found myself going repeatedly to a place of business expressly to see what a girl was wearing that day, over a period of time I can only guess at. After the last cup of coffee had in those hedonistic days, I made the attempt at convincing a friend who only wore overalls that fashion was a good thing. This may have been in direct opposition to things I had said to him before--I cannot be sure.
While I was thus being taken out of reach of those who had cautioned me and kept me on an even keel, it became clear that an illusion of sanity was being peddled under the term, programmer. For some like to hear the word, impossible. The culture around us suggests that programmers are making space for religious compromise, and this is the true cause of us seeing these things as being used for entertainment alone. It's plainly obvious to anyone who knows the difference between a cam and an egg that industry has been computerized for the one and only reason of making these things do more than entertain us. This fact would have been all very well if GNU hadn't been sidelined.
Instead, we found that non-programmers had bought into the narrative that we get excited by the replacement of one thing with another that does the same thing. People who have children change the subject when they are presented with something which represents a world economy. About the time I started to get the feeling of wanting to go away, anywhere, we were being encouraged to make webpages where users could sign in and share information. Not necessarily truckloads of photos of themselves and other cargo, but that would've been the next obvious thing if the marketing team could've gotten the lazy sniffing programmer to get his butt into gear.
My God! If I had discovered the fashionista--who corrupted me--with a son while I was trying to be useful, what I wouldn't have done!
I don't begrudge people for having a change in heart--I know how it is. I just need to be able to prepare myself for the next round without having to refer to old-fashioned ideas like sin.
But that's as far as I think I need to go. There's nothing I can do to stop being a horrible person. Apologies mean as much to me as they mean to you.