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Thursday, July 27, 2000
Explosion on Ftrain
By Paul Ford
Relaunching the Web site.
“Can we turn the music down?”
“Sure. It's the big knob.”
“Thanks. So you re-launched Ftrain?”
“Hold on, I have to take some aspirin. Did you know that “Corinth” was once a synonym for an immoral city?”
“So?”
“A ghoul was a “fellow who watches assignation houses, and follows females that come out them to their homes and then threatens to expose them to their husbands if they refuse to give them not only money, but also the use of their bodies.” That from 1893. And “the night-sneak” was stealing, first documented in 1714.”
“Put that book down. What have you been doing, since you haven't been writing?”
“I have a really sore neck is all. I've had it for days. And my eyes hurt.”
“Can you give us a tour of the new Ftrain?”
“It's broken, still, and there are a lot of problems with the structure of it, but I figured I should get started. It's going to take me a few weeks to get back to speed, and I hope people are patient. It may be a little confusing at first, until I iron out some kinks.”
“What if they don't have time?”
“Well, they can stop reading and give up on me. That's fair. My neck still really hurts.”
“What can we expect from this version of Ftrain?”
“More sex, more robots, and a giant sky-fire. Perhaps some MP3 radio theater. I need to fix typos that appeared in the transition, too.”
“That's all?”
“Yep, for now. I posted this new version because, in order to get anything done, I need a sense of guilt. Having an embarrassingly unfinished site out there gives me this. Guilt is my gasoline.”
“Neither is `Kwimerrijabstajobidge.'”
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