I don't hate them for my uncermonious firing. I don't hate them for their customer service, which is actually quite good. I don't hate them because they aren't up to the gold standard of hosting, that is RackSpace (Another former employer of mine) which I hold to be a gold standard of what hosting should be. I have criticisms of their tech, and security. But I don't hate them for that.
I hate them because I met a long time 3 character name. Because of a 16 bytes in unicode-32. I hate them because of 128 bits of utf-32. A long time malvagerite(the irc network I founded, and love), who would have remained a name on the screen if I hadn't have taken my short meaningless commission at that company. The first time we met I was so worried about my stay in that big city. Were things going to turn out well(they wouldn't) would I live comfortably and be ok(I would, but only because of those 128 bits).
I was this weird neurotic outcast, coming into a clove of already clicked people at my work. I didn't really fit in, and I was an asshole about it. I snubbed my nose at them for their brown cherry mx switches("You don't love yourself"), and their acursed use of the nano editor. So of course everybody loved me...no.
But that first paycheck I came to the actual city and I met that, 128 characters. Sen, as he was known in our community would come to be my greatest ally in a world that seemed out to get me. He was loud. He was big. He would shout obscenities in Polish. He had a knack for saying the most vulgar things. He was my friend. When I walked with Sen, no matter which part of the bombed out ghetto, or nicities the city had to offer, I walked with a 10 foot tall bullet proof, body gaurd.
He could be quick to anger, he was scary, and he could blame you for misfortunes on a dime. Sure those weren't the most charming qualities...But he made up for all of that in both genorosity and loyalty. When I walked with Sen I had no one to fear. If I needed food, BAM fucking scrapple on the table, even if I wanted beer, I didn't even have to ask he would provide. If he saw me scrounging for quarters suddenly a dollar would appear.
In less than a month of being there, I lived in the same building as him. This was before his greater qualities shown through. We both took a risk. I wish now that I would have stayed. But I didn't. Sen is dead now.
Typing those words puts me in a state. I recently did a stint in the hospital for over a week, as in I got out today. I had time to think about things in a neutral enviroment. I didn't know how much his death affected me until reflecting over it, in pale clinical lights. With lots of alone time. With my recent projects I have been running non stop, without reflection. I miss Sen, and I feel an overwhelming misplaced hatred for a company who has essentially done no ill will. They let me go because my performance was poor, as any company would do. But at least I can hate them. At least I can pretend it's someone elses fault and not the cruelty of the world that took Sen. I miss you Sen. Malvager misses you Sen.