AND THE REVOLUTION (THE CHILDREN OF THE NORM)

What could Winston say,

if he could see me then,

the time has passed,

time enough for revolutions.

Welcome to the stagnant, children of the norm.

1984 in 1948 make that 1947,

a rose by any other name,

Behaviours simulation.

I codify my thought,

in efforts to account for the world,

I have taken apart computers,

one program at a time,

like a child destroying a toy,

invoking lament for distractions woven into nature.

Privacy, enough for revealing disclosure,

encumbent on the informative,

stimulating discourse,

rhetorical and on balance,

symptom of the surrogate.

Distillation of adventure,

advent of theistic concourse,

advising the dissociation of the humanist account,

once made monoculture.

disentanglement of objection's compassions,

disavowal of the autocracy of merit,

accumulating a monumentality,

harbouring the amniotic surveillance,

the confluence of panopticonic cadence and silence.

Bucolic dissociation of the obstruction,

garnishing the autocracy,

emmanating in the acerbic context,

evinced by devaluations of the termocracy of whim.

Interplays of the unreasonable,

differentiating the pluralistic in accounting of exclusion,

Revitalizing the indecency of placement,

where Nirvana was the be all and end all,

the endgame for information's other shore,

defeat in the shape of time's monument.

Vernacular provocateur of cascades of indiscretion,

secular and affirmative,

commingling opposition's path,

with the conflation of faith and doubt,

where the doctrinal uncertainty,

contemplates the distinction progressed

near the autocracy of distinction and disentanglement.

Ampoule of information,

injected into the constitution of control,

obliterating the custody of interpretation,

rivaling the unspoken.

You said for us what invisible language could not say,

doublethink, newspeak, freak of conjecture,

liberty in the face of adversarial guidance,

a homage of impressions

policing indefensible policy.

Obstruction's disservice,

becoming transparent in an opaque world,

invading liberty,

in the name of

duty and the revolution.

We are the children of the Norm,

born dying,

in the harmless name,

of duty

and the revolution.