Sonnet for the Free
Our democracy is but a century young;
In this our supposèd land for the free.
Yet now our liberty dies ere it’s begun.
Killed by those who launder our diction’ry.
Our ID belongs to the state and we pay.
We have nought to fear who have nought to hide.
Good citizens prove who they are day by day,
So, good proles, carry your card with pride.
The database state grants who we are;
And this database will record where you go;
Letting the state track you both near and far.
This database is good; the state says it’s so.
It is we who must lift a torch to the fading light;
Ere our childrens’ children be slaves in the long dark night.
Mark Ellott. April 2006.
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# April 5, 2006,
[...] The muse struck once more. This little ditty is less formal than the sonnet; simply rhyming couplets in a series of quatrains. I’ll admit to a slight hat tip to Gilbert and Sullivan. Anyway, for your delectation, “The Modern Totalitarian”. [...]