boot

  Location: Madison, WI
  Remote: Yes
  Willing to relocate: Yes
  Technologies: Software/hardware generalist, Python, Bluespec System Verilog, Javascript, C#, SAS, Linux, Windows, ASIC/FPGA
  Résumé/CV: http://musicandmythology.com/offsite/theodore_humpal_resume.pdf
  Email: [email protected]

       No, no, go not to Tor, neither private mode, 

              Nor duck-duck-go the tight-rooted, for its secretive wine;

       Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd

              By anti-cloud sentiment, ruby grape prose of NSA;

                      Make not your rosary in tinfoil hats,

              Nor let the politicians, the doomsayers-media be

                      Your mournful Psyche. The downy social media

       A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;

              For shade to shade will come too drowsily,

                      And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

       But when the melancholy fit shall fall

              Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,

       That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,

              And hides the green hill in an April shroud;

       Then glut thy sorrow on a morning HN,

              Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-reddit,

                      Or on the wealth of globed nerds from afar;

       Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,

              Imprison her harsh hand, and let her rave,

                      And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

       She dwells with Government—Government that must die;

              And NSA, whose hand is ever at his lips

       Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,

              Turning to poison while the lying-mouth sips:

       Ay, in the very temple of Delight

              Veiled Melancholy has her sovereign shrine,

                      Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue

              Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;

       His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might,

                      And be among her cloudy trophies hung.