Last Gasp

Once upon a time, in the land of Technophobia, there lived an ancient poet.   He was from another land, another time, another space.

He wished to communicate with the natives in their own language, a language alien to him and all he stood for.

With great difficulty, he took his first, faltering steps.   Then, he assembled around him people of Technophobia, Technophiles, people with a foot in both worlds, each of them artists in their own field.

The Elysian fields were within his grasp!    The promised land!   Here and now and here and there and everywhere!

Through his rheumy eyes he perceived the fallow fields bear fruit and blossom, the old and the new combining to produce a fruitful harvest.

Grapes and flowers, dance and song filled the land.   All were fed from the bounty.

I shall die happy, he murmured.   These old eyes have seen the promised land.

Tich Ennis

30th January, 2013

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