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Weekly #5: The Love Song of tyoung215

with 3 comments

A poem, from me to you:

You and I together a breakneck dream

You show me wonders from your engineering team.

Favoring keywords in one, two’s and three’s

Words without meaning, yet you easily see

Knowing my intention despite spelling so tragic

Powered by PageRank, beacon of math magic.

And before there was us, you went by BackRub

But more fitting a name you would soon be dubbed.

Father Page and Father Brin ignored tradition

Instead used word-of-mouth and PR to up your position.

Marketing agencies felt the raw sting of rejection

Take note, your past only increases my affection.

With free tools aplenty, you promise access, no evil, and care

All in exchange for name, birth, state — a bargain more than fair.

I log in to Gmail, easily a cut above the rest

So simple to chat and sort and add Labs for zest.

You bring me updates from sources far and wide

I even read in a feed to stem the info overload tide.

I dock my docs with you for sharing and safe keeping

Your directions lead me home in time for sleeping.

Again you ask: “What do you want?”

But I know not.

So you show me the Earth and bring down the Moon

You fulfill Jimmy’s pledge — I confess, I swoon.

Even your oddities like Buzz are strange but charming

AdWords appear everywhere, yet don’t seem alarming.

Oh hey, look, it’s as if that ad is speaking to me!

That is your goal, of course, now I easily see.

Knowing my intention

Despite no explicit mention.

I brush this aside because you give much and ask for little.

Or do you?

You’re moving faster than me

Taking over the phone and soon TV.

Robot cars now too?

Jesus, who knew

That you could be

Knowing my intention despite not knowing it myself

Then storing it as if any other on your virtual shelf.

You’ve catalogued my whims, wishes, and wants

Right next to all my faults, failings, and flaunts.

And would you divulge these without my consent?

Turns out, yes, if ’twas the government that sent.

I to you one of many in the Database of Intentions

Exploited for the bottom line without question.

You say: “This is for your own good, trust my helping hand.”

I hear: “All are immortalized and retrieved upon demand.”

You speak plainly now, you ask, “What does the world want?”

Information replacing relationships? I pray not.

You and I are no longer, but you and all stay strong

And I a part of all take you still, no matter the wrong.

All I can do now is trust that you will live your motto

Be not evil, or else shoulder unforeseen sorrow.

Google — you came, you gave, you strayed

And in short, I am afraid.

Update: For reference, this post was inspired by The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. It is one of my favorites.

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3 Responses

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  1. I could probably spend the better part of an hour talking about what I loved in this post. But if I did, it would just take away from the brilliance of it. For now, I’ll just resuscitate my favorite lines in the form of a re-mix.

    ***

    You speak plainly now, you ask, “What does the world want?”
    Or do you?
    Knowing my intention despite not knowing it myself?
    Right next to all my faults, failings, and flaunts —
    Words without meaning.

    You show me the Earth and bring down the Moon.
    All in exchange for name, birth, state.
    You and I are no longer.
    And before there was us.

    “All are immortalized and retrieved upon demand.”
    Jesus, who knew,
    Exploited for the bottom line without question.
    Be not evil, or else shoulder unforeseen sorrow.

    Again you ask: “What do you want?”
    Words without meaning, yet you easily see.

    You’re moving faster than me.

    ***

    If I ran the New Yorker, I would publish your poem. And that’s the proverbial equivalent of me pulling my biggest and best artillery out of my magazine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magazine_(firearms)).

    katekoza

    October 21, 2010 at 6:18 pm

  2. Well done.

    Krempasky

    October 27, 2010 at 5:59 pm

  3. […] in amniotic fluid a la Matrix style in the near future. My paranoia of Mr. Unknown Quantity (a.k.a. Google) taking what I search for, e-mail, and blog about and using it against me at some point is still […]


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