A few months back, in a minute of nostalgic weakness, I signed up for a one-year subscription of Wired Magazine. Today, I found the first copy in my mailbox. And nostalgia was exactly what I got. But not in a feel-warm-and-fuzzy-all-over sort of way. Oh, no.

On page 112, a familiar face greeted me. Tim O'Reilly. My employer of 3 1/2 awesome, exciting, and ultimately painful years. Steven Levy wrote the 7-page article. I remember Steve well. After all, I worked in the PR department, and it was my job to woo people like him into writing about O'Reilly. Steve's a nice guy. So this is not his fault. He couldn't have known. But I quote:

"O'Reilly's company was hit hard by the crash [referring to burst of the dot com bubble]. In the late 90's, its expanding publishing schedule required a move from the cramped quarters in the center of Sebastopol to a brand-new complex down the road. .... By the time the new campus opened in 2001, the bubble had popped and book sales tanked. O'Reilly had to fire some 70 people, about a quarter of his staff. .... O'Reilly admits that if he'd gone public, "I could have given them comfortable retirements."

But you didn't. So you know what, Tim? Fuck you. Fuck you for saying something like that. How insensitive.

By now, dear reader, you may have guessed it. Yepp. *I* was one of those 70 people who got laid off. Am I bitter? Sure. I loved what I was doing, and I was damn good at it. Political maneuvering by my insecure and lazy boss who saw the mass lay-off as a convenient way to get rid of me ultimately sealed my fate - and you, Tim, just stood there and let it happen. As a matter of fact, you couldn't even remember that I got booted. Co-workers later told me that you kept referring people to me (like the guy from IBM with whom you and I were on the brink of sealing a hugely important grassroots PR deal) - but of course, I wasn't there anymore.

I slaved for you, Tim. Long hours, with a crappy salary, no overtime pay and - yes, that's right - no freaking stock options. You know why? Because I believed in what you were trying to do. And becaused I loved the way I could touch people's lives through that.

But it was pure greed that prevented you from going public. You were selfishly pocketing the moolah that was rolling in during the boom, while paying 90% of your employees crap - yes, crap - for wages. The other 10% of course were well rewarded to keep their mouths shut.

And what Steven also omits in the article is that the building of this new campus - this insane, empty monstrosity of a building - drained much of the capital from the company that could have been used to retain jobs. But it sure did feed your ego, now didn't it, Tim?

So you bet I'm bitter. I gave this company my heart and soul, and was ultimately booted with a lousy 2-weeks severance - and only after I signed a legal agreement that said I couldn't work in the same capacity (in PR at a tech book company) for 10 years.

So fuck you, Tim. I hope you choke on one of your home-made cranberry scones.