Grame Fletcher

April 13, 2013 § Leave a comment

(A message from your caring Government)

Close the library, lock the door; what do you need a library for?
Whatever you’d go there to get; it’s better via the internet.
You can find the things you want: select the language, choose the font
Google what you want to know; right click to get a new window:
The Lady and the Unicorn? Choose from tapestry, tune, or porn.

Buy a kindle or a Nook, if you want to read a book,
if you’d rather hear some stuff: I bet you; i-Tunes has enough.
You like to borrow works of art? Print from the web: click ‘add to cart’.
The library gave kids games to play? Play on the net, 24/7, any day.
The library was a place to chat? There’s forums on the web for that.

Libraries are unhealthy places; folks breathe germs on others’ faces
if you really wannabe fit you’d better stay away from it.
Bacteria lurk in every tome. You’re safer if you stay at home.
At home there’s nothing you can’t do; it’s all there on the web, it’s true
you can get a web-based job; stay in bed, become a blob.

With a keyboard and a mouse you’ll never need to leave your house
from toilet rolls to vintage wine there’s nothing you can’t buy online,
you’ll never need to step outside to make a friend or find a bride.
Have them delivered to your door; I ask you: who could ask for more?
You want to gaze into folk’s eyes? With Skype there’s nought the web denies.

The virtual world has all you need; real people are a threat indeed.
You can’t afford to get connected? Oh, really? That is unexpected!
You must have been extremely rash to squander all your daddy’s cash.
Oh, please don’t expect sympathy- why can’t you poor folks be more like me?
At Eton and at Brasenose too, they said I should be nice to you.

When times are hard, for we, who’re fatter, we tighten our belts: it’s mind over matter,
Let me reassure you: we’re not unkind: you don’t matter, we don’t mind,
please, just face it; you’re not like us, we never travel on a ‘bus
we’re made to lead, and you, to follow: your stupid protests: merely hollow,
between your libraries and the holes in the road, what matters most to Mr Toad?

You take much more from me, than you give. What is, d’you think, your right to live?
It’s only ‘cos you have the vote, I said; “We’re all in the same boat.”
Anyway, don’t just blame me – it’s your Council: can’t you see
they’re responsible; we’ve passed the buck – it’s them on whom you should sling your muck
the other lot are just like me: not Brasenose, but Corpus Christi.

The Internet’s a better place, for you to criticise disgrace:
we monitor each word you type, you Tweet, or Facebook, or you Skype
the notions that you come to hold from libraries can’t be controlled
words can be whispered into ears that spark unauthorised ideas
so close the library, lock the door. We don’t want it any more



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