Midway through the journey of our life, I woke to find myself in a realm of noise and blinding light – for though my feet had never left the path, it was lost behind the din.
I love romantic, flowery prose. And with it, a kind of understanding that is conveyed – of both longing for a glorious past, and an admission that no such thing ever existed. Even better, then, to lay it on thick. Celebrate the English language, in all its depth and character, and hold it up against the things that is has never succeeded in describing.
There is a sickness in my heart that is best sated with the works and voices of all of the people on Earth. My favourites are the ones that celebrate a personal search for meaning. From Gilgamesh to Laura Les, from blank-verse to speed-core, I want this site of mine to serve as a celebration of all humankind’s search for meaning. From time to time, it will include some of my search as well.
These strange shapes and colours rise from out of nothing, for no-one, and then they disappear for-ever. Guffaws and screams, plays and memes – here will rest my personal monument, a thanks, to all of you.
The works of humanity may come to be preserved some hundred-thousand years in the silicon swarm of the information superhighway. The work of your hand today will likely persist further than the works of the wealthiest kings of all antiquity. It would be wasteful not to make a couple stupid memes before you go, just to stunt on the Neanderthals.
Rember you are dust.
-Sam
Sanctity and Constraint 
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