Reverting The Code

The tired despair I feel on rolling back the latest code Should really not compare to heartsick feelings for the wronged, The pained, the lost, the dying, lonely unwashed left alone. And yet….                  The hordes of homeless, each intersection’s beggars, The staring children of hopeless hunger and mothers with matted hair, Compel me only to …

The Poetry of Ignorance

Why do we willingly watch bad art? What pleasure possibly obtained from viewing William Hung’s savage evisceration of what little musicality remained in Ricky Martin’s opus major? Not once, but dozens and hundreds of viewings as the fabled excrescence was replayed across the land, revisited in American Idol retrospectives, and finally brought to life repeatedly …