Baggy52 or more formally known as Richard Samuel Jones, an old friend of mine died last year from a brain tumor. However he set up an automated email to send to me at certain point in time. So he wrote this email before he died and he asked me to place it here.

It is addressed to you too slate, as well as hetzer, so as much as i would hate it... you better call him here too.

for now, i feel like.... i need to friggin write! for that old smoker!

here is the email he wrote:

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Now, I suppose an explanation is in order. Chances are the second you saw this your heart skipped a beat, or two. :)

This e-mail you're reading is an automated e-mail, and because you're reading it means I'm not around to post-pone it. The long story behind this e-mail is that I've owned some space on a server in a datacenter. I decided to put it to good use, so after I learned about my tumour, I purchase extra months of service in advance, and set up a script to send you this e-mail on the last month of service.

Now then, enough of that, onto what I wanted to say.

I sure hope you haven't forgotten me, as that was the last thing I asked you to do before, well... I don't know if you know how weird this feels, writing something that you know will only ever be read after you're dead. I've got this really sad feeling, deep down, knowing that I can't be there for you anymore. You've got a great deal of talent, boy, don't you ever deny that, okay? If you ever deny that you'll deny me one of the things that I hold true about you. You're writing is great now, yes, but I can see that if you never give up, you will be better than any of them before you.

You're already better than me, don't deny that either. I'm just an old codger who liked to write what interested him in his spare time, and even then I only ever developed that late in my life. I never had the time, nor the talent, to write great works.

But, I suppose, if you do deny these things, there won't be a damn (sorry, I know how much you dislike cursing) thing I can do about it, will there?

I know the only thing I asked of you was to remember me, but being the man I am, I want to ask you a few things now that I never was able to ask to you directly. And yes, I know how cowardly that is...

The first thing I want to ask you is to never stop writing. Not now after this e-mail, not after I'm dead, not after you grow old, not ever. It doesn't have to be any sort of macro works, but don't ever stop. Finish up "The Lurker", and keep at it with the sequels I've come to expect and enjoy from you. Your talent will take you places.

Also, stop demanding complaints on your stories to, please? I can't quite explain how it hurts to see you demeaning yourself with them constantly. Besides, complaints are never what you really ever wanted, what you're looking for is criticisms, suggestions, and the occasional complaint. Force for those, and you'll see how much more they help you in the end.

You never wanted to get a FA account, and I know I can't force you to do so, but I really think (now, and until the end of my life, however short that may be) that you'll make friends there, and if you post your work there as well you'll only get more of those criticisms, suggestions, and complaints that you so egerly desire. I think that getting a FA account was a good thing for me, and while I shouldn't be one to talk about what's good for me (I'm seeing a trend in my humor here...), I definately know it will be good for you.

Adam, you are a great deal of things... You are a great friend, a great writer, a great person, but a horrible self-critic. :P

I know our religions are different, and there are vast phosophical differences between them, but now, at the end, I'm starting to think that it won't matter once all is said and done. We both believe in the same God, a same loving God, and surely such a God can see past our human distinctions of religion, no? We call him different things, so what. We follow a different version of the same priciples, so what. We have different views on the afterlife, so what. It's up to God in the end, and what's good enough for God is good enough for me.

Sorry, this isn't supposed to be about God, and I really got off-track for what I was going to say.

My last request to you when I spoke with you last was to never forget me, but to that I would like to add, that if the memory of me ever gets in the way of your writing, it's okay to forget me. Really, the last thing I want to do to you is be a dead-weight (ha!) on you. Your talent will take you places. And if you truly feel that you don't want to forget me, but you also don't want the constant nagging of the memory of an old smoker in your mind, write about it. It's one of the things that you're great at.

You were one of a few friends I've made in these last months, and I cherish every conversation we've had. I'm glad to have gotten to know you, and I'm glad to have been witness to your talents, even if they were only in the beginning stages when I've had a chance to see it.

Also, If you ever happen to get a FA account, could I bug you to do one last thing? Post this e-mail up in your journal. If not because I asked you to, if not for the fact that this also applies to Kaz and Mark (that would be Slate and Hetzer, if you forgot) (which I regret not being able to also send e-mails to, as this is a one-shot deal), but as to keep an archive of myself somewhere out on the internet. (Yes, I know, still obsessing over that 'never forget' mentality)

Well, this e-mail can only drag on for so long, and all things must come to an end. After this there is no more surprises, there are no more e-mails waiting to be sent. This is it.

I'm grateful, and moreover, I'm sorry.

Thanks.

---Sam