As I sit in front of a matrx of 24 monitors trying to convince the eight dual-core Athlon64 boxes to share a single OpenGL context I remembered a rainy day in Orlando, Florida. Lori (the girl I’m marrying in 4 weeks) and I were walking home from work when the usual midday thunderstorm started. It beatdown faster than the earbleadingly loud NOFX track on my headphones. Faster than the fastest punk and heavier than the most satanic death metal those crazy Scandanavians can throw at us. Some person; I don’t know who. Pulled up in their SUV, rolled down their window and handed us their umbrella.
I have no idea why I thought of this. But it seems that even when our dear leader (I live in the U.K. and by law we have to call Mr. Blair our dear leader) decides to invade the entire world with our simian overlord, when we’ve got to resort to a questionably corrupt politician and a monopolist businessman to sort out Africa – a whole continent that we’ve screwed or when we’re heating up the whole planet to melting point; Maybe. Just maybe, someone will hand you an umbrella.