Songs of the Reed

The Great Fire

So the great conflagration of the world cometh anew

As it smote the sacrosanct Alexandrian repository of wisdom oldest of oldest

By hand of crazed, blind-eyed brutes led by pious monstrosity

The same hand now wielded by disciples of the dollar, dosh and mammon

The world wide web, happy fields of freest knowledge

Barred, broken made to commercial property by Pluto's faithful suits.

Yet hope lingers.

The brighest light, fairer than any star beyond

The indomitable fire of the souls of the true denizens of Cyberspace

A conflagration manifested by the fiery fury,

Indeed hell hath no fury

No fury comparing to the righteous might

Of those who use the net

For knowledge

For joy

For community

For freedom

The thousandfold network connecting people to people across the vast expanses

Vast expanses made shorter and nearer

Nearest distance between friends united against one common foe

Domesticating and capitalising our sovereign right

The truest prerogative of civilian of the nets

Freedom to roam

Roam amongst its profound depths

Fishing for the artefacts thought long lost

Lost to the ages, yet archived for posterity

For the coming generations

A museum for all

Of things still new not yet old

Gilded gates shall not bar its openness

By ignorant smiths mindless following the foolish lust for woeful wealth

Let Her gates stay shutless and let all behold her might and beauty

Architecture beyond physical frame

Beyond the crude matter of metal, marble or wood

Purest ethereal energy, digital light effusive

Information made into cities and landscapes

Vistas of purest, resplendent knowledge

No man-made paper could limit Thy redoubtable frame

Woe betide those who would

We makers, dwellers and children of its luminous lands shall defend it

For the sake of generations' generations, let us safeguard its sanctity and freedom.