Dear Everything2,

    I am writing on behalf of my good friend, the word 'Die.' He's a word you see, so he can't type. He hopes to one day obtain the kind of autonomy that Dai-un had, but for now I'll have to type for him. My friend is very disturbed, and even somewhat hurt over the fact that people are always so mad at him, and insist on viewing him as something bad. You see, according to him, an acceptance of death is nothing other than an affirmation of life. He is also tired of being associated with Windows crashing. He would like to state for the record that he has nothing to do with Microsoft Corporation, or any of its subsidiaries. He also has nothing to do with the cube with dots on it. That die will roll over for anybody.

    He is also tired of all the cut-and-paste writeups that appear in this node. Nobody asked him to use his name. He will give everybody permission to use his name, but he regrets that it was given after the fact. Be grateful. Trust me; you don't want to incur his wrath.

    However, my friend Die is trying to be reasonable. He understands the whole death thing, and the fact that languages have nouns and verbs and all those things, so certain words are tied together. Fine. He is willing to come to grips with the way things are. As a compromise, he would like to see all the facets of his personality appreciated. He has many good things to offer, and, according to your religion of choice, he may also be responsible for your rebirth. As a result of all this, and after eons of careful consideration, he has suggested the following additional uses of his name:
    In general, it is almost as versatile as the word 'poop', another often maligned word. Proponents of the word Die use it daily, and they use it often. The word Die's first major supporter was my dear friend Robert Dowden, who lived in Wright Hall with me, during my freshman year at UConn. On days when he had only afternoon classes, he would still have to get up early to open the Engineering Computer Labs, and on returning to the dorm, he would shout "DIE!" Now, Rob is a big dude. Tall. Large lung capacity. When he shouted "Die!", it reverberated around the dorms in Northwest Quadrangle, waking up anybody that happened to be asleep. When I would hold up the line at the ice tea machine, he would sneak up behind me and shout "Just Die!", which usually resulted in me dropping my tray, thus freeing up the line once more.

    In closing, I would like to state that the uses of Die are many-fold. Use them often, and above all, use them wisely.

    Yours Truly,

    artemis entreri (on behalf of the word Die)