Monologue of Darkness (12)

My effectiveness feeds and grows
because I offer comforts, stimulation,
an endless array of entertainments.
I venture forth communication
once unimaginable, devise
more and more semblances of communities
multiplying, enforcing isolation,
the human dehumanized, submerged
in data and files and information.
A man, a woman who walks
among the trees, looking up at the sky
and marvelling, an expression of it all,
moving in harmony with it all,
shall go extinct – or be the aberration.
Man as instrument, as information,
numb, cut off, shall take the other’s place,
endless fantasy, image-inundation
the new life. Virtues surrounding love
and love itself shall be worn away.
I’ll use technology to wear patience away,
to mechanize the mind with endless pleasures,
to emphasize uprootedness from the world.
As a man mirrors his lover’s ways,
as a woman mirrors her lover’s ways,
so humans will mirror their technology.
There’s no going back now, technology
too inflamed now, too fierce, the tide
of the inevitable making me smile.
The twisted image of the soul I envisage now:
as if a man’s limbs were not growing in their proper place,
a second or third nose not always on the face,
a hand growing from the leg or side of an arm,
eyes expressionless, lifeless, a puppet’s eyes.
These things shall be called Novel, Daring,
the Experimental, the Bold Surprise,
this crippled creature a creature of Progress.
And indeed Progress it will be: My Kind,
the progressive destruction of humankind.

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