The Origin
Among
the
uninitiated he is Just a Man,
A cog
among cogs, a piece of the clockwork bureaucracy.
In his
small circle of cogs, A Guru, a shining star,
Tweaking
and fixing and un-deleting the errors of the illiterate,
The
Users
spelled with a capital L.
Within
the walls of his home, a magician
Conjuring
content, summoning sites,
Making
free time disappear.
But in
his element, among his digital peers,
He is
man
no more; he is a Guru€™s ideal,
He is
a
wizard before mere magicians.
He
sits
before his altar, a glass-topped desk,
His
conduit a glowing Liquid crystal screen,
A
centerpiece to absorb his focus,
The
tools
of his art on the tray beneath:
The
Keyboard and mouse his replacements for
The
staff
of Tolkien and wand of Rowling
He
transcends
the physical,
His
clicking hand and typing fingers move of their own accord
He
absorbs the sites as they flicker into view
Only
to
vanish, discarded as irrelevant in a blink.
His
eyes
glaze as he seeks neither past nor future, but the present.
A
million
€œnow€™s€? on a million sites,
Only a
few worthy of his notice
Beneath
the surface, his soul rejoices,
Connecting
man and machine in an invisible bond
Dancing
within the data-stream,
Only
returning to indicate a useful place to bookmark.
The
wizard stretches his attention further,
More
windows to the digital world, more sites to visit, ever reaching for
more.
Danger!
Calamity! Error!
Worlds
collide, Windows crash and break, Death comes in a bright, blue screen.
Just a
man among all now,
A
soulless,
meandering cog in a great machine
A guru
no
more; His magic lost.
His
time
at the altar now limited, banal, practical.
But
while
he sleeps, when he is at work,
His
soul
still dances, untethered to flesh
Still
alive and connected within the circuits,
Living
life among his digital peers as the Wizard-King he was destined to
become.
As Computer King.
