“Three! Twelve! Shit!”
Yes indeed, we’re taking an interval while we move to another server.
During the interval, we expect you to carry on as if nothing is fucked here, man, and you know, like, keep expressing your opinion as if it was just as real and tangible as any scientific fact is assumed to be.
And with that we leave you to your own devices,* and their assorted and sundry software peccadilloes.
*I was forced to learn to play the accordion as a child when my parents fell under the sway of Myron Floren‘s squeezebox machine, during Lawrence Welk’s heyday.
