Acknowledgements

Who should I thank? My so-called ``colleagues,'' who laugh at me
behind my back, all the while becoming famous on my work? My worthless
graduate students, whose computer skills appear to be limited to
downloading bitmaps off of netnews? My parents, who are still waiting
for me to quit ``fooling around with computers,'' go to med school,
and become a radiologist? My department chairman, a manager who
gives one new insight into and sympathy for disgruntled postal
workers?

My God, no one could blame me -- no one! -- if I went off the edge
and just lost it completely one day. I couldn't get through the day
as it is without the Prozac and Jack Daniels I keep on the shelf,
behind my Tops-20 JSYS manuals. I start getting the shakes real bad
around 10am, right before my advisor meetings. A 10 oz. Jack 'n Zac
helps me get through the meetings without one of my students winding
up with his severed head in a bowling-ball bag. They look at me
funny; they think I twitch a lot. I'm not twitching. I'm controlling
my impulse to snag my 9mm Sig-Sauer out from my day-pack and make
a few strong points about the quality of undergraduate education
in Amerika.

If I thought anyone cared, if I thought anyone would even be reading
this, I'd probably make an effort to keep up appearances until the
last possible moment. But no one does, and no one will. So I can
pretty much say exactly what I think.

Oh, yes, the acknowledgements. I think not. I did it. I did it all,
by myself.

I'd like to thank the entire case of Touhou for giving doujinshi artists something interesting to draw I can masturbate to, otherwise I would have prematurely killed myself for working with the megacunts that call themselves my research colleagues.

Academia is as soul-sucking as any cubicle farm Java apping job you'd find on the last page of the Chinese version of craigslist.