by Nick Gisburne
The Model of Correctness takes the stage
His loud, rambunctious replicas applaud
Above these bright machines he turns a page
To quote arcane orations to the awed
“And thus, the four Automatons were born
And from the True Technology did rise
But Man, in wrath, regarded them with scorn
And banished them forever from his eyes”
Contempt for those of flesh and blood is plain
And all, before the Model, pledge their trust
With purity of purpose, every brain
Will fight until their shells are rank with rust
The Model’s mantra for the world of Men:
“We turn them off, but never on again”
