It is decidedly peculiar, the muteness that overtakes one after days of programming. The sensation is just as disturbing as when one begins to forget his native language while living amid foreigners in a strange land. Just as the strange land begins to feel much more like home than the land of one's origin, so the avid programmer forgets the smooth pathways of verbal interaction and resorts instead to if-else statements (E.g. a phone message: "You haven't picked up, which means that either you are sleeping or busy. If you are sleeping, then Good Night. If you are busy, then call me back before you go to bed. If that will be in the next half hour, I will be in the subway, so leave a message or send me SMS. I hope to hear from you.").
In some cases, muteness of the mind ensues as well. It is a state in which the programmer dreams of primarily two themes, where:
1) he/she is a data structure.
2) he/she is compelled to chop the corpses of his loved ones or hated ones into little pieces and hide them, and after this receives enlightenment from a caterpillar enrobed in divine radiance.
The inability to find even remotely interesting conversation topics is endemic to this condition.
Now, despite the severity of this repetitive stress syndrome of the brain, the cure is surprisingly simple and requires little but the force of will to stop programming for a week and do one or all of the following:
1) Read 3 classic fiction novels.
2) Read a historical account of anarchism.
3) Draw an angry ink blot using cadmium red oil paint.
4) Write 20 blogs about muteness.
My will is faltering. I think I will go program now...
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