Monday, 6 August 2018

Comments Closed



The comments section underneath the line
Is closed today, you cannot have your say:
Our algorithms are on holiday.
Our bots need rest, and recreation, wine,
And walking in the Tuscan hills, fresh air,
Those things YOU crave in summer, please be fair, 
They cannot monitor your words, define
Your views as hateful, cruel, repulsive, vile,
Day in day out.  They needs must take a break
From scanning ‘right wing’ thought, for what’s at stake -
Our Socialist Utopia - requires us to file
The names and controversial arguments
Of those whose old ideas we deem wrong,
For purposes we hide.  Still, all along
We let you speak, these legal instruments
We store, condemn you to your fate, it’s true,
But every time you tapped the screen, to spell
Out nasty contradictions and repel
Your betters, up above, you condemned you.
Each time you tried to sound a caution, wrote
Of how, in your experience, the thought
Behind the narrative was wrong and fought
To change the author’s outlook, we took note,
Not in the way you wished us to, perhaps,
But as it was attention which you sought
We gave it in abundance and you ought 
To show some gratitude.  It was your lapse
From Marxism which sealed your doom, your need
To tap out sacrilege at speed, our role,
Is merely to facilitate, extol
The virtues of the system, and indeed
To trap.  So be grateful we’re not here now,
Be glad our algorithms are away,
Remember everything you wish to say
Will be held for years against you. Somehow.








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