Nalle's Plan

You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has bugs, and
those bugs have to be fixed by wizards with kludges. Who's gonna do it?
You? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom.
You weep for newbies, and you curse the Archs. You have that luxury.
You have the luxury of not knowing what I know -- that slower casting, while
tragic, probably fixed the tune; and my existence, while grotesque and
incomprehensible to you, adds features. You don't want the truth because deep
down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me in that workroom
-- you need me in that workroom. We use words like 'honor,' 'code,'
'debugging'. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent building
something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the
inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket
of the very features that I provide and then questions the manner in which
I provide them. I would rather that you just said 'thank you' and went on your
way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and make some exp.
Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!