I'd like to stand up in support of everyone in a carpetted cattle pen right now. I know I've come to love my 8'*8' cell as if it were home. It has adequate lighting, a view of a factory and a white birch tree, blinds that obscure said view but don't keep out enough light to keep me from boiling, Windows NT...

...the PAIN! The seering HORROR!

Oh, wait. I get paid. Nicely. To learn Perl much of the day. Life is good. Long live the canvas walls.

So, while I had wanted to hit YAPC::Montréal, I wound up grinding wires. I cannot fathom the beauty of fresh air or central air when I'm not denied them. Yes, I can't open the windows and not even the circulation works here. I have a fan.

-from a cubicle in the 1950s, Dante