I don’t know about you, but I for one could not have predicted any of the last 12 months. Not an ounce of it. I look back at our epistolary exchange and wonder, how did we even survive, given the edge of existence we meandered along.
Wishing you twelve more wonderful months of existential crisis and questioning our place in the cosmos.
Say hi to Jesse.
[Rust is kicking my ass. I did manage to code up Conway’s Game of Death (Life for many of you). It’s wicked fast and entertaining to watch all those little virtual critters spawn, live and die. Hmm, sounds familiar.]