BY
Oh, OpenMail six-point-zero (old version),Your interface may be tiredIt may be wrinkled,But you are not depreciated.Sleep! Sleep, Friend.A lullaby I sing you, Rocking you in the arms of poesy,Ring-a-ding, bing bing bing.
In two years of blissful reciprocity,I have opened you,Yes. True.But more fitting for this paean,How you have opened me,Nay! — opened us.
Open, open are the wires(thanks to you)That bind and knit usInto the latticed, cyber-bosom of humanity.Oh, OpenMail six-point-zero (old version),That bosom rocks you now,Protects you in Parnassian verses …Against that Scoundrel!OpenMail six-point-zero (new version),Newer, aye, but better?Your vaulting ambition would claim so,Thou would-be Successor,Thou mere Pretender,Thou nasty henchman of the great Zittrain!
Your crimson arrogance remains A.I.! Hah!Artificially Incontinent and Artificially IncognizantOf your lurking Achilles heel,That deliverer, Log Out Button,So deliciously inconspicuous,Seldom clicked, seldom activated,Yet quietly sparking Langdellian mob violence.
Don’t click him, Friends –And watch Fortune’s Wheel turn,Watch the Pretender Proud on his “new” throne,Wither, Dessicate and Die.
-Dave Winickoff