Been stuck these past few months fingertip deep on the keyboard. Trying to let these infernal computers work out some notions I have on protein modeling vectors. I should just be trusting my instinct and intuitive leaps, like the old days. Mary Shelley would've had nothing to write about if we had the use of computers back in the early 19th century. All my early obsessive meanderings would've only blazed trails in silicon and software rather than being taxed at figuring wily methods of dodging graveyard nightwatchmen. Useless, useless. The most I can hope for from these past few months of toil is to get this work distilled down to some published paper. It might make the rounds in some of the more Teutonic flavored universities until some adman from Silicon Valley derives some search algorithm from the vector studies and then cites it in the footnotes. Then his algorithm gets absorbed into someone else's intellectual property package through a buyout that only passes as 'news' on some tech-geek website.
I miss the days when it was all real action, using lightning to re-animate corpses sewn together, and then struggling hand and foot with Igor to keep the re-animated corpse in it's restraints. Loud blasts of thunder and the blood curdling loud bellowing of the newly awakened undead do much more for getting the adrenaline flowing compared to the video blog of some pinch-faced nerd who takes it upon himself to relate 'important news' relevant only to other nerds. The guy down the street doesn't give a hoot.
I would pour a gallon of hot oil on those servers in the closet if I knew where Igor hid the key.
