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I have gotten out of practice at making the sort of curse that makes people giggle and wince at the same time.

Some years ago, I'd gotten very mad at Dell's customer service representatives, and more angry at their phone system -- the phone system that, every thirty seconds out of a half-hour hold, would thank me for my patience at staying on the line. I do believe that it would ring, then thank me for my dwindling patience.

I declared that the phone system should be circumcised with an overclocked chainsaw. This was evidently sufficient to make silmarian giggle and wince at once.

I need to get back into the habit of cursing well.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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