neoplatonic on Xanga

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Over the summer everything gets hot and steamy and my computer starts to run more slowly. I can put my hand over the back and feel hot air being pumped out by the tiny little fan that's supposed to keep everything cool and smooth. That's why I'm not writing today. My computer is too hot.
"Use a pen and paper, like you did in the good old days," someone is muttering. "Think of the stories you wrote back then. Your first Singer Susie story. That weird one about the guy who ran into two weird chicks who killed people. Hey, how about the Living Brain?"
Now you're making me feel guilty. But the story about the guy was pretty bad, you have to admit.
"Yes, it was."

This entire site is changing, and adding features that I neither want nor need, at an astounding rate. Well, it may seem astounding because I haven't looked here more than once per month (if that) recently. I'm not a fan of all these "community-building" additions. I hate communities. It takes a village? No, my friend, it takes a lone crazy man in a hut at the edge of the village.
Which leads me to one of those crazy men that I admire no small amount: Warren Ellis. Comic book writer without peer, I saw him last weekend at Wizard World Chicago, first at a late night question and answer session, then when I actually got to stand in his presence as he signed a comic book for me. While I stood over him, sweating and anxious, I managed to mutter something that made him snort, which was most likely to make me feel less uncomfortable. You see, it was the third day of the convention, and I'm sure that he had signed a thousand autographs (he was wearing a wrist brace, and looked kind of fragile, to be honest). But, as I've thought about the incident again and again as I lay in my bed these recent nights, I like to think that I actually touched him, somewhere in that black heart of his.
It makes me want to be a writer again.

By threaten, I mean Xanga. I'm sure some of you also got the evil email, threatening to give your user name to some undeserving person who wants to use it instead. As if they won't eventually let it languish for months and months.