Don't know the attribution but I like this one (had to elide due to posting character limiit!)
THE .DOC FILE OF J ALFRED PRUFROCK
Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a laptop, put in sleep mode on a table Let us go through certain half-deserted streets The blinking-light retreats Of restless nights in free-wifi cafes And public libraries with internet Streets that follow like messageboard argument of insidious intent To lead you to an overwhelming blog post Oh, do not ask, "What, yaoi?" Let us go and post an entry.
In the room the players come and go Talking of their scores on Halo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the Windows PC The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the Macintosh Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening Lingered upon the trackpads in their case Let fall upon its back the crumbs that fall to keyboards, Slipped by the flashdrive, made a sudden leap and seeing that it was a soft October night Curled once about the mouse, and fell asleep.
[SNiP]
In the room the players come and go Talking of their scores on Halo.
And indeed there will be time To wonder, "Is this wanky?" "Is this fair?" Time to turn back and descend the stair With a comment on the level of your player [They will say: "How his server's lagging slow!"] My morning cosplay, collar mounting firmly to the chin My website rich and modest, but accessed by a simple login [They will say: "But how his content's growing thin!"] Do I dare Disturb the interwebs? In a minute there is time For fanfictions and revisions which Google Docs may reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:— Have known the RPs, archives, messageboards I have measured out my life with usernames. I know the voices dying with a 404 Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume?
[SNIP]
And I have known the sites already, known them all —- Sites that are Web two-oh, white and bare [But on my cellphone, still given to fail!] It is the javascript impress That makes them so digress? Sites that stretch out like a table, or word-wrap like a shawl And should I then presume? And how should I log in?
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through archived files And watched the dialup sequences that blink No more from AOL in lonely Windows?
I should have been a line of ragged code, Scuttling through the compiler, breaking apps.
[SNIP]
And would it have been worth it, after all, After the games, social media, the blogs, Among the twitters, among some talk of IRC logs, Would it have been worth while To have bitten off the fandom with a smile, To have squeezed the internet into a ball To roll it toward some ass on Yahoo Questions To say, "I am Babbage, come from the dead, Come back to ban you all, I shall ban you all" -- If one, sending a textmessage, autocorrected Should say: "That is not what I typed at all. That is not it. LOL."
And would it have been worth it, after all, Would have been worth while After the LOLcats and the macros and the youtube clips, After the spambots, after the blog space, after LiveJournal trailing on the floor -- And Digg, and so much more? -- It is impossible to type just what I mean! But as if a new .avi threw the nerves in patterns on the screen: Would it have been worth while If one, texting or throwing back Red Bull, And turning towards the PC, should say, "That is not what I typed at all. That is not it. OH LOL."
[SNIP]
I grow old... I grow old... I shall add some links to my blog roll.
Shall I change my default pic? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall play some World of Warcraft, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the servers singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen cats talking in capslock on the web, All up in ur fridge, eatin' ur food When my laptop lights the darkness white and black.
We have lingered in the tubes of internet, By URLS wreathed with info, loaded-down Till cellphones ringing wake us, and we drown.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-08 07:46 pm (UTC)From:THE .DOC FILE OF J ALFRED PRUFROCK
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a laptop, put in sleep mode on a table
Let us go through certain half-deserted streets
The blinking-light retreats
Of restless nights in free-wifi cafes
And public libraries with internet
Streets that follow like messageboard argument
of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming blog post
Oh, do not ask, "What, yaoi?"
Let us go and post an entry.
In the room the players come and go
Talking of their scores on Halo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the Windows PC
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the Macintosh
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening
Lingered upon the trackpads in their case
Let fall upon its back the crumbs that fall to keyboards,
Slipped by the flashdrive, made a sudden leap
and seeing that it was a soft October night
Curled once about the mouse, and fell asleep.
[SNiP]
In the room the players come and go
Talking of their scores on Halo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Is this wanky?" "Is this fair?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair
With a comment on the level of your player
[They will say: "How his server's lagging slow!"]
My morning cosplay, collar mounting firmly to the chin
My website rich and modest, but accessed by a simple login
[They will say: "But how his content's growing thin!"]
Do I dare
Disturb the interwebs?
In a minute there is time
For fanfictions and revisions which Google Docs may reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the RPs, archives, messageboards
I have measured out my life with usernames.
I know the voices dying with a 404
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
[SNIP]
And I have known the sites already, known them all —-
Sites that are Web two-oh, white and bare
[But on my cellphone, still given to fail!]
It is the javascript impress
That makes them so digress?
Sites that stretch out like a table, or word-wrap like a shawl
And should I then presume?
And how should I log in?
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through archived files
And watched the dialup sequences that blink
No more from AOL in lonely Windows?
I should have been a line of ragged code,
Scuttling through the compiler, breaking apps.
[SNIP]
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the games, social media, the blogs,
Among the twitters, among some talk of IRC logs,
Would it have been worth while
To have bitten off the fandom with a smile,
To have squeezed the internet into a ball
To roll it toward some ass on Yahoo Questions
To say, "I am Babbage, come from the dead,
Come back to ban you all, I shall ban you all" --
If one, sending a textmessage, autocorrected
Should say: "That is not what I typed at all.
That is not it. LOL."
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would have been worth while
After the LOLcats and the macros and the youtube clips,
After the spambots, after the blog space, after LiveJournal trailing on the floor --
And Digg, and so much more? --
It is impossible to type just what I mean!
But as if a new .avi threw the nerves in patterns on the screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, texting or throwing back Red Bull,
And turning towards the PC, should say,
"That is not what I typed at all.
That is not it. OH LOL."
[SNIP]
I grow old... I grow old...
I shall add some links to my blog roll.
Shall I change my default pic? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall play some World of Warcraft, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the servers singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen cats talking in capslock on the web,
All up in ur fridge, eatin' ur food
When my laptop lights the darkness white and black.
We have lingered in the tubes of internet,
By URLS wreathed with info, loaded-down
Till cellphones ringing wake us, and we drown.