I dive into dust-covered files every now and then. There are lots of sketchy ideas that never came to anything. Some made it to completion, but once done failed to click. These rarely found the light of day. After all, who should I show them to? If they're not good enough to publish on a web page or post in a public forum, does that mean they should be shredded? The answer I choose (today at least) is that I'll show them to whoever is prepared to show enough interest to read.
What?
You're still here and still paying some attention?
Well, here's your "reward" for being foolish enough to appear interested. It was a daft idea that I worked on in early April this year. I wondered if I could write a humorous tragedy. Tragedy led my mind inexorably to Greek Tragedy and from there, Geek Tragedy was just a tiny slip away. Geek is always funny. Even the word sounds funny. And geeks can be so tragic. The idea just had to be written.
Maybe I'll take a completely clean sheet of paper to it later.
A Geek Tragedy
Comp Sci, year one, I bent my brilliant mind
to beat the mighty Gates. Fortune and fame
would fall my way once I could make a start.
I waited for my market niche to bloom.
The money, I would wear like angel wings
and wield my famous trademarks like a lord
while leggy starlets queue to cry my name
and cover me with unbridled desire.
Comp Sci, year two, my greedy goal had died
and given way to mastering the machine.
This mind would fill the world with free-ware code
to fight the shrink-wrap enemy's evil hold.
As enigmatic guru of the GNU
I'd grow in peer respect and cult renown
till rich young women, drawn by my mystique,
would melt beneath my sensual, smoldering gaze.
Comp Sci, year three, the IT market's tight
and time is short. My marks are not that great.
See me, a geek, with little left but dreams
and lonely hours of jpegs, books and beer.
That brunette in my graphics class is cute
and clever, so she'll never notice me.
Next year, post-grad robotics rules, but now
I'll read about Pygmalion one more time.