Every good story needs an end. So here it is.
I've wasted I don't know how many hours around these parts reading stories that have no real significance, comments from idiots that appear to have the intelligence of Rush's legion of dittoheads (except they know how to use a keyboard too). I've posted the good-natured troll on occasion, but for the most part I've tried to keep my posts civil and on-topic, and have from time to time been able to have a rather enjoyable discussion. I've carefully nursed my good karma and tried to be fair and even-handed when blessed with moderator points, preferring to lift somebody up who deserved it rather than push somebody down (who more often than not deserved it as well).
And then a few days ago, it hit me. This is not a "community," if you can even call it that, that I want to be any part of. While there are a few really great nice people out there amongst all y'all, by and large, you're ASSHOLES. Almost every single last one of you. Why would I freely choose to associate myself with people like you? I really can't answer that question. It's not like the stories posted here are all that exciting, or that they have any real meaning beyond the borders of my browser. Most of the time (i.e., 99.99999999999%), the content of /. is complete and utter crap. It's not like the discussion is all that interesting. As I said before, you're mostly a bunch of morons. So why keep doing this?
The only answer I can think of is "don't." So I think I won't. After I post my goodbye here, along with the nice big fuck you I've been wanting to say to y'all for so long, I'll be changing my password to something completely gibberish, switching my email account to null, and getting the hell out of dodge.
And so the story ends. FOAD.
Long time listener, first time caller.
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Why I Don't Keep a /. Journal
The Short Story:
Because it's a waste of time. I already have a journal, so if for some odd reason you actually want to read more of what I have to say, you can find me here most days.
The Long Story:
As I'm sure many folks around here would agree, the web is a far different place today then it was back in the good ol' days. I got my first email address in 1993, and have since gone through many addresses as I left school then returned to school then left school again, switched from ISP to ISP, finally bit the bullet and registered my own domain and found a pretty good deal to host it (here), and now have returned to school. And all along the way what was once this nice place to do research, read about people's pets, and download porn has evolved into a place to shop, read about people's pets, and download porn. Along the way we've suffered through the BLINK tag, "Best viewed in Browser X", animated GIFs, really bad Flash sites, and pop-up ads. Somehow, we still survived, and hopefully we'll continue to do so
But in that path, we've left a trail of litter in the form of usernames and passwords for random sites we've registered for, usernames we'll never remember and messages and journals we'll never find again. How many hotmail/yahoo email accounts have you signed up for? How many forums? How many AIM screen names? The NY Times, Friendster, Livejournal, Blogger, ICQ, the list goes on. To be honest, I find it quite annoying. Clearing out my hard drive last fall as I moved to my new laptop, I found my old ICQ username, lost, forgotten, neglected. I looked up my profile. It said I lived in Albuquerque. I haven't lived there for years. I'd change it if I could, but I have no clue what the password is. Sigh. . .
So in conclusion, I'm done. I have better things to do with my time. I have a screen name I'm happy with, I'm registered for the forums I post to regularly, I have my own journal that I'm perfectly happy with, my own website, and I feel no reason to register for anything else. If I find something that seems interesting, I'll lurk around for a while, and if I find myself returning frequently enough, maybe I'll register. But don't hold your breath. . .
So to reiterate, if you want to find me, I'm right here. Stop by and visit, and let me know where to find you.