01010: blue box moon
By: AnonymousThere is a moon out tonight, a full moon. It's hanging low in the sky, barely above the mountain tops. One night that same moon will rise full and bright as ever, but something will be differnt. One night the moon will rise and the last analog trunk will be replaced. One night the moon will rise and give light to all those in the night, but that night there will be no more blue boxes.
The world is totally unjust, but I don't know what to do about it. Somewhere, at some point, something went teribly wrong I think. Things are not as they should be.
Once apon a time I read a small story that was contained in the bits of a text file. I don't know how many times those bits had been copied. I don't know who's computer system they had passed through before mine. The story was titled the secrets of the little blue box. I was completely facinated.
Do you like to stare up into the stars at night when its cold; when the wind is blowing softly. Does it make you feel on the outside as you do on the inside. 3am and in the middle of a large, almost empty parking lot. Lights that create large circles around the base of their poles that fade slowly into darkness over the asphalt. All the stores around the shopping center are empty. There are payphones of course. A few of them anyway. But that's not what holds the atention. It's the cold. The cold and the quiet blackness that surrounds. It is wonderful. Does looking up into the stars make you feel important... romantic... phone phreak...
Once apon a time there was a man and a woman in the most wonderful garden on earth. There were no telephones. There was no technology. There was a tree, and on the tree a fruit, and in the fruit knowledge.
What makes you better. What makes you important. Is it what you know? All our life we learn, and learn, and learn. Facts, figures, statistics, properties. Telephone systems. 100 years ago man kind could not even fly, my how far we have come. Look at how great we are. Look what we have done. Look what we can do. Look what we know. So why is it so cold?
How can what you love so much leave you so cold and empty? Trunks made of light, yet give no warmth. Why doesn't my knowledge comfort me?
One night the moon will rise full and bright and the wind will blow softly. But that night won't be like others, that night you will understand that all you have learned, all you have been taught, all the knowledge you have sought after with a passion, is totally worthless.
The world is totally unjust, but I don't know what to do about it. Somewhere, at some point, something went teribly wrong I think. Things are not as they should be.
Once apon a time I read a small story that was contained in the bits of a text file. I don't know how many times those bits had been copied. I don't know who's computer system they had passed through before mine. The story was titled the secrets of the little blue box. I was completely facinated.
Do you like to stare up into the stars at night when its cold; when the wind is blowing softly. Does it make you feel on the outside as you do on the inside. 3am and in the middle of a large, almost empty parking lot. Lights that create large circles around the base of their poles that fade slowly into darkness over the asphalt. All the stores around the shopping center are empty. There are payphones of course. A few of them anyway. But that's not what holds the atention. It's the cold. The cold and the quiet blackness that surrounds. It is wonderful. Does looking up into the stars make you feel important... romantic... phone phreak...
Once apon a time there was a man and a woman in the most wonderful garden on earth. There were no telephones. There was no technology. There was a tree, and on the tree a fruit, and in the fruit knowledge.
What makes you better. What makes you important. Is it what you know? All our life we learn, and learn, and learn. Facts, figures, statistics, properties. Telephone systems. 100 years ago man kind could not even fly, my how far we have come. Look at how great we are. Look what we have done. Look what we can do. Look what we know. So why is it so cold?
How can what you love so much leave you so cold and empty? Trunks made of light, yet give no warmth. Why doesn't my knowledge comfort me?
One night the moon will rise full and bright and the wind will blow softly. But that night won't be like others, that night you will understand that all you have learned, all you have been taught, all the knowledge you have sought after with a passion, is totally worthless.
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