Sarcasm is the poetic justice I deserve for my melodramatic post on a father's day morning, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, since my English professors said nothing other. I will give it some genuine thought, however, since it has crossed my mind before.

According to wikipedia you technically cared more than say 1.5 million others who cringed at my diatribe before it was downvoted to the underworld, so if you will indulge my curiosity, where might a ex-programmer find work as an author these days? I don't mind lowering myself to ghost blog careerism, there's a certain art form to SEO collusion; plus it would be a more hospitable home to edify my narcissism than HN.

The state of online short form prose is rather abysmal, our attention is a commodity mined so much these days, things have gone from editorials, to newsletter and blog post, and further down to the pithy and snarky droppings of Twitter, and eventually we'll just communicate using a dialect of smurf speak and emoji glyphs. If all else fails, there's always fiction.