Print

So now, I have once again decided to take my work underground, to stop it falling into the wrong hands.

 

This will be my last entry for some time.

 

Or will it?

 

I have a confession to make. I am extremely indecisive. And right now I am at a crossroads. One that looks depressingly familiar.

 

On one side - the Kingdom of BetterJob . In the distance I can see new and interesting people, a fulfilling working environment. And wedges of filthy cash.

 

On the other…well at first the road descends into a swirling mist, until just before the horizon emerges a glittering tower, where the King of the World lives. He is not only the King of This World, but the King of many other worlds, because he creates those worlds by means of his four typing fingers. And he is a Happy King, because he creates these worlds for a living.

 

I strode boldly into that mist many times, but the broken compass of indecisiveness keeps leading me back here. My head is spinning, my legs are weary, and those wads of filthy luchre have never looked so tempting.

 

It wouldn't be selling out, you understand. I'm not talking about burning the bridges to Self-Sufficient-Writer Towers. Rumour tells that beyond the Kingdom of BetterJob lies the mythical land of MortgageFree, and it's capital city, SemiRetirograd. And beyond there, those same rumours indicate there is a mountain pass leading straight to the Promised Land.

 

But finding the path is not without peril. Before reaching it, BetterJob visitors risk becoming enslaved by its cunning rulers into the Joyless Army of Pointless Capitalism. And the route itself is fraught with peril, littered as it is with yet more obvious metaphors.

 

 

So here I stand at the crossroads. Turning around and around. Begging for divine guidance. Or, failing that, a coin. Anything.