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i) Prologue |
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ii) The Wiki Man |
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All of our answers are here prepared in real time |
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In cities of servers and disks across the globe |
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In whatever format is the fashion |
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In whatever language is the mode |
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And all of our memories jump from the Ether |
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At the click of a mouse or a tap on the screen |
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A Gig in New York or some kids' wedding |
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All jostling around the grander scheme |
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But if I dared to question |
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All the congestion |
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Of infomedial chatter in my home |
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I'd be nothing! |
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Out of a novel from the fifties |
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Comes this mad nightmare, our "Childhood's End" |
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It gives me all that I have but leaves me half empty |
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With a full glass of 2000 electronic "friends" |
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But if I lived without it, do not doubt it |
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I'd be cutting off my nose to spite my screen |
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And I'd be Nothing, no Nothing! |
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Have I become the Wiki Man? |
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If I lived without it, just think about it |
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I'm living a dream in the Ether not much more |
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I am nothing! - Just a hopeful has been |
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Nothing! - An aging prog queen |
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Getting his kicjs while he still can |
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Nothing! - Am I just lines of data? |
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Nothing! - Or in reserve for later? |
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Have I become the Wiki Man? |
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iii) Competition Watershed |
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iv) Edit You Out |
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So take some music or take a play |
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Some poetry you didn't write or a quote you didn't say |
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And write biographies of people you don't know |
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YOUR matter-of-opinion is the main point of the show |
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In these strange days |
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But today I had a brief talk to a man I did not know |
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From a place I've ever heard in a language I forgot |
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Written in Cyrullic, so couldn't see the words |
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Yet with a click I understood him |
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Though his voice, I never heard |
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In these strange days |
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But YOU, you can edit that out... |
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... of this story |
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But YOU, you can edit me out |
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Yes YOU, really you, can edit me out |
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Leave the house a hero and come home as a scourge |
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They can edit up your profile with a simple flaming urge |
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Level your ambition with Laetotes and bile |
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You're open to opinion and they'll never close the file |
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In these strange days |
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Everyone's a journalist (that's when they're not a star) |
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And those who aint celebrities like to diss the ones that are |
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The writing's on the Facebook walls, it's a spattered on the blogs |
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On a billion whirling hard disks, those modern squealing cogs |
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Of these strange days |
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So now we're all encyclopedia correspondents |
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We're all record companies |
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We're all world famous rock bands |
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And we're running the biggest car boot sale |
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In the history of The Universe |
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v) Car Boot Sale |
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vi) Wiki Man Reprise |
