Why is it that typing is such a beautiful act?
Its because of the interaction of fingers with plastic.
Think of a swampy beach, with steam and mist and strange sounds from a bygone age, with hundreds of strange creatures that havn't walked these lands for millions of years, just think that it is they that once owned the earth. Then they get melted down, the result of eons and pressure, and pysics, and other dark things, they get turned into a mysterious black thick mana. It is history, the world as it was, all mixed into a dangerous soup that should be left deep down in the dark and the cold. Then we as men, barely more than any beast except we have aquired some skill with tools, then we pump this oil up into daylight to satisfy our tool fancies. Some is used to run our cars. Some makes carrier bags. Some is used for injection moulded keyboards. It seems only natural for us to at least pay homage to the profound heritage; so we type.
