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 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!