Canto I
Midway upon the journey of our life,
I found myself within a deep web,
For the straightforward link had broken.
Ah me! How hard a thing to do
When these school computers are shit
And run upon outdated systems.
So bitter it is, autism is little more;
But of the good to treat, which there I found,
Speak will I of the other things I saw there.
I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
So full was I of doritos at the moment
In which I had abandoned the dead way.
But after I had found a drugger’s site,
At that point where the net grew dark,
Which had with consternation tickled my fancy,
Deeper I went, and I beheld its horrors,
Vested already with that dank-ass weed
Which leadeth others to the blissful moon.
Then was the fancy a little quieted
That in my gut’s lake had endured throughout
The lab, which I had stayed so piteously.
And even as he, who, with breath of Cheetos,
Forth issued from the depths beneath the web,
Tabs to the porno depraved and jacks it;
So did my soul, that still was searching onward,
Turn itself back to re-behold the link
Which never yet a clever person left.
After my weary mind I had rested,
The way I resumed I on the dankest slope,
So that the firm hope was ever the lower.
And lo! Almost where the ascent began,
A hedgehog light and swift exceedingly,
Which with two arms blue as sky!
And never strayed he from before my face,
Nay, rather did impede so much my way,
That many times I to return had turned.
The time was beginning of the morning,
And down my eyes were drooping with that nice,
That with them were, what time the Net Divine
At first in motion uploaded those hideous things;
So were to me occasion of dying hope,
The coerulescent arms of that fast things,
The hour of time, and the ersatz sperging;
But not so much, that did not give me fear
A tranny’s ‘pression which tweeted to me.
It seemed as if against me it were speaking
With hair viridesced, and with senseless raging,
So that it seemed that men were afraid of it;
And a wolf-kin, that with all stupidities
Seemed to be laden in her recalcitrance,
And many folk has caused to lol forlorn!
She brought upon me such mediocrity,
With the blogging that from her aspect came,
That I the hope relinquished of the site.
And as he is who willingly acquires,
And the time comes that causes him to lose,
Who weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent,
E’en such made me that beast withouten peace,
Which, come on against me by tapping keys
Thrust me back thither where logic is silent.
Which I was closing down tabs to the blog sites,
Behind mine chair did one present himself,
Who seemed from long-continued browsing stink.
When I beheld him in the lab empty,
“The fuck you doing, mate?” unto him I spoke,
“Whoever you are, or shade or real man!”
He answered me: “Not man; man once I was,
And of Britbongistan I was,
And English by country I admit.
‘Pre-Internet’ was I born, though it was early,
And lived at London under Churchill
During the time of war and burning Jews.
Mathematician was I, and I broke that strange
Code of War, which came forth from Berlin,
After that Poland the weak was conquered.
But you, why run away from such annoyance?
Why close those tabs of Mount Degenerate,
Which is the source and cause of every lol?”
“Now, aren’t you that Turing and that mind
Which helped to establish modern computers?”
I made response to him with bashful speech.
“O, of the other cyphers honour and light,
Avail me the flatteries and great love
That have impelled me to explore your history!
You are my master, and you are my author,
You are alone the one from whom I took
The beautiful coding that has done honour to me.
Behold the beast, for which I have turned back;
Do you shield me from her, famous sage,
For she doth make my blood and brains boil.”
“You it behoves to find another link,”
Responded he, when he beheld me gritting,
“If from this savage place you wish to escape;
Because this beast, at which you spert out,
Suffers afflictions self-diagnosed,
And so does harass those that know better than she;
And has a nature so malign and ruthless,
That never does she glut her greedy will,
And after food is hungrier than before.
Many the animals with whom she fucks,
And more they shall be still, until the greyhound
Cums, who shall make her perish in her pain.
He shall not feed on either jerky or crisps,
But upon sense, and logic and reasoning;
‘Twixt Wiki and Wiki shall his nation be;
Of that low pride shall he be the saviour,
On whose account Mitchell an heroed,
Stryker, Eli, Stevens, of their wounds;
Through every website shall he hunt her down,
Until he shall have driven her back to Hell,
There from whence sperg first did let her loose.
Therefore I think and judge it for your best
You listen to me, and I will be your guide,
And lead you hence through the eternal place,
Where you shall hear the desperate lamentations,
Shall see the ancient spergs disconsolate,
Who cry out each one for the little death;
And you shall see those who contented are
Within the fire, because they hope to cum,
Whene’er it may be, to the loved people;
To whom, then, if you wish to descend,
A soul shall be for that than I less worthy;
With her at my departure I will leave thee;
Because that Emperor, who reigns the tubes,
In that I was rebellious to his law,
Wills that through me none browse into his pages.
He governs everywhere, and there he reigns;
There is his site and his lofty profile;
O happy he whom thereto he elects!”
And I to him: “Cypher, I implore you,
By that same Doge whom you never did know,
So that I may laugh at this woe and worse,
You would conduct me where you have said,
That I may see the portal of Saint Null,
And those you make so disconsolate.”
Then he moused on, and I behind him watched.
