Howdy Hexagons, welcome to the sixty-eighth geometric proof of HACK. If you’ve made it this far, come satiate your appetite with my delicious fibbognocchi….
As always dear readers, my pattern tends toward editorializing for a few paragraphs until I finally get to the actual piece that is the title of this post. So feel free to skip down to the story. Unless you enjoy a healthy dose of someone else’s self-referential rantings, then by all means, continue to the next paragraph.
Well folks, I was recently called out on my saying yes to a writing assignment and then procrastinating to deadline. Fortunately, I work best under pressure. (Some may say that I only work under pressure.) I hacked out a nice little piece about a purple hexagon. Yep, that’s right. All the wonderful ideas in this head, all of them either unfinished thoughts or incomplete rough drafts. And the best I’ve got for you is a story about a purple hexagon.
Hell, I’m (apparently) the only one still writing on this blog. It’s The Crew? More like, It’s Just You! I used to have a deadline of every Wednesday. But today I can be The Man Who Was Thursday because like I said, all of my Crew-related crow-nies have flown the proverbial coop. See what I did just there? So I’ve been having a creative dilemma, or more of a co-creative dilemma. Sometimes I feel abandoned, like I’m the cause of my co-writers copping-out, and now I’m like the only remaining member of a band where all the others members have gone on to do solo projects.
“I’m gonna slip into this feeling like Han Solo.” –Mike Doughty
Sure, I could just ball the loop and leap on over to the other blog. But I won’t, for two very irrelevant reasons: 1) I’ve already paid for the website server storage until about March and the domain registry until next year. 2) Maybe someone will return to write some more. 3) Maybe I’ll just look for new interested writers. 4) Maybe I’ll just hold onto the Crew Concept forever, not even my original idea. I’d be OK with the one who gives it the ol’ two breaths and multiple compressions just to keep it beating. 5) Perhaps I’ll eventually let it go.
But actually, hasn’t it all been kind of a solo project in my head? Isn’t that the whole problem in the first place? Thus, these tired tangents that shoot straight through meta-concentric circles of spiritual procrastination. Well, if this the reality, then really nothing has changed. It’s still up to me to make the choice to keep doing it because I believe in it, because no one else has to believe in it and that should rarely, if ever, be the reason you do it in the first place.
Which brings me to this week’s bit of fiction. My friend is a graphic designer who is apparently obsessed with the aesthetics of fonts. He’s created his own font that is so super secret I’ve been afraid to even look at the attachment he sent me. So all I know and all I’m allowed to share is that this font is called Hex. By the time this piece is published, however, the actual Hex font will be out so I will go back and put a link to it right here.
The first thing that popped into my mind was ‘hex,’ short for ‘hexagon.’ And since rarely is anything I create actually original, Flatland naturally came to mind, mix in the synonyms hex = curse, plus a great ‘font’ pun, and thus we have a story about a personified purple hexagon with some polygonal personal problems. Damn I love self-reference.
This is a story of friendship, co-creation, and finding one’s place among the shape of this universe…
