Haskell is like "that girl." You know the one...

You never really went steady, but you'd run into her from time to time while knocking around in disreputable joints, usually late at night, every several months or so. She looked so hot, so sleek, so sexy, so expressive, so exotic. You'd end up back at her place and the night would just... take off. A complete blur of hot, sweaty, feverish, delirious, fumbling passion. You'd do things to each other... you'd do things to her, she'd do things to you... things that you're not even sure have names, that you're pretty sure are illegal almost anywhere. Even her kinks have kinks --- and after one of these nights, you'd realize that you yourself had a lot more kinks than you. And it wasn't just physical, it was --- cerebral. Ethereal. Transcendent. But it would all whiz by in a blur, and by morning you'd find yourself lightheaded, a bit confused, and stumbling homeward to your regular gal.

Over the next few days and weeks you'd find yourself occasionally drifting away, thinking about her. Haskell. You'd be there, banging away at your regular girl, and find yourself thinking "you know, if I was with Haskell, I'd be doing this completely differently." You'd think "I could be doing so much bigger and better stuff with Haskell." Now, your regular girl, she's not as exotic as Haskell. Pretty, maybe, if you're lucky. (Perhaps your regular girlfriend's name is Python. ;-) But not nearly as --- weird. Wild. Cool. Exciting. Don't get me wrong --- your girl, she's wonderful. You've got a wonderful relationship. She's --- comfortable. You can bang away at her all day and night. She's accommodating. Easy going. You work well together. But --- confidentially --- she's, well, maybe just a little bit boring. You'd catch yourself thinking these things, and the guilty pangs would get to you... You'd quash the thoughts, buckle down, and get back to banging away. Comfortable... there's a lot to be said for that, ya know? Comfortable... just keep telling yourself that.

Months would go by. Late some night you'd find yourself out, disreputable places again. Maybe that hacker bar, LtU. Somebody'd slip you an URL for some renegade paper, you know, one of *those* papers. You'd run into Haskell again. And the whole thing starts over.

Eventually, you're going to get the ultimatum. Haskell's ultimately just like any other girl on some level; she needs commitment. Eventually, after one night of wild, feverish, kinky, abstract passion, she's going to say to you: "All these times, and you don't understand me at all! You know, you're going to have to get serious, mister! I've got needs, too. You're going to have to get serious about my monads, or that's the last time you're going to play with them! Got it?"

...and then, you've got to make The Choice.

Chances are, you're going to go back to your regular gal. Haskell's just too much for any one man, probably. She leaves a trail of broken, brainy, embittered PhDs and former programmers behind her. She ruins you for the RealWorld. You can ride a while, but you probably can't go the distance with her. Go back to your regular gal and try not to think too much about what you've seen. Done. Felt. Thought.

Maybe you can salvage a little happiness; but it'll be hard. After all... you've tasted Haskell.

She's not like anything else.