Classical bust of Empedocles (ca. 490-430 BCE)
Friends, that inhabit the great digital arena of cyberspace looking down on the yellow rock of the intra-state highway, up by the citadel, busy in goodly works, harbour of honour for the stranger, men unskilled in meanness, all hail. I go about among you an immortal god, no mortal now, honoured among all as is meet, crowned with fillets and flowery garlands. Straightaway, whenever I enter with these in train, both men and women, into the flourishing towns, is reverence done me; they go after me in countless throngs, asking of me what is the way to gain; some desiring oracles, while some, who for many a weary day have been pierced by the grievous pangs of all manner of sickness, beg to hear from me the word of healing....But why do I harp on these things, as if it were any great matter that I should surpass mortal, perishable men?
In another life, perhaps, I spoke these words as a citizen of Agrigentum under the name of Empedocles, as I speak them unto you now in the context of digital salvation and binary deliverance. Metempsychosis is thrilling, isn't it?
Have a good Sunday.
meatem perish fru naw is aall
ReplyDelete