If I chose revolution and salvaged compassion
From my island of shipwreck, my computerized jail;
Would it fit in its place in my chest if I swallowed
That original cast-off, or would its reaction
Summon the bile of the years and erupt through my ribs?
It was breeze from my fingers that blew it to skerries
Of electrons—that voyeur of fiber and flicker.
We had sailed on my ego through oceans of info:
We saw thousands of murders, a million transgressions;
Billions of people and trillions of dollars depart.
I had come to believe my compassion a weakness,
So I left it exposed on a rock while I traveled
Through the internet, paralyzed gawker of horrors.
It's the game of the world; it enriches, imprisons,
Battens the hatches—we're planted on asses and watch
As the currents run swifter, the water much colder;
And an enemy lurks in the depths—it's a monster
That is ancient, too awful for morbid obsessions.
It is nerves and it sounds like a bus: it is bullet,
Plastic and prayer—it is servant and master in one.
"Chinese authorities detained dozens of political activists after an anonymous online call for people to start a "Jasmine Revolution" in China by protesting in 13 cities—just a day after President Hu Jintao called for tighter Internet controls to help prevent social unrest. But Chinese authorities seemed to take it seriously, deploying extra police to the planned protest sites, deleting almost all online discussion of the appeal, blocking searches for the word "Jasmine" on micro-blogging and other sites and temporarily disabling mass text-messaging services."
—JEREMY PAGE , The Wall Street Journal, FEBRUARY 20, 2011, 2:10 P.M. ET
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703498804576156203874160350.html
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