Introspection, take two.

I had another post ready, but it just didn't fit the whole scheme of the blog. So, I'm going to start over.

There are certain things that bring to light who you are as a person; there are a series of tiny, seemingly insignificant events in a criss-cross pattern through the fabric of the universe that weaves you and determines who you'll be. I'm not a believer in fate. I'm a believer in circumstantial augmentation or detriment; whether the circumstances pull your threads tighter or rip them apart is completely coincidental.

I'll be vague. It's best to be vague.

... Wow, it's really difficult to be vague about something like this. Okay, I can get around it.

First, I've come to the conclusion that nothing is ever purely physical. That's one thing I've learned from my robots. (And kudos to the UCLA professor who diagnosed the culprit behind your slavery. Good luck finding a cure. Not.) Each individual action is controlled by a pulse emanating from the brain. The heart beats involuntarily, the lungs breathe involuntarily, but pretty much everything else? It's a decision.

I don't regret a single decision I've ever made. None of them have ruined me; none of them have made me any less of a supervillain to myself - or, undoubtedly, any of you. Some of them have, however, made me more of one.

And while nothing is ever purely physical, I doubt this decision will be different. However, resorting to the cliché comparison to Newton's third law, I expect to balance myself out.

Confused?

Cool. It was totally intentional. Just note that some plans aren't as well-laid, but they can be incredibly destructive. Like an earthquake. So if I were you (which I'm so glad I'm not), I'd watch out. That's all. Oh wait, you already do. Well, you're not very good at it.


Truly,
Dr. Horrible

P.S. I rode the awesomest electric bike last night, and I crashed so hard, but it was so worth it. I think I need to invest in an alternate form of transportation. No offense to Moist, but ... the 1980 Civic? While reliable, I think I'm growing out of it. Like, retroactively. By several years.

Maybe I'll put in a request.