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The Virtue of Hope by Brueghel the Elder, Pieter, circa 1560

There appeared other beings who entered these caves as the sun waned

They, however, would only depart these caves with their wings,

fluttering beneath the moon, they dared to leave,

their mates alone, at night, subject to Lucifer.

These beings were of separate types.

Most were in their youth.

There were older beings,

supposed wizened men,

but they failed us.

Youth had failed these aged men and they in turn failed the youth that surrounded them.


Archie led Fred through the movements of industrial production.

These movements were mystical as those of the alchemist.

As ordered as the stars were these movements.

Place the pills into the fire of microwaves.

Then move them to the toothed maws,

of the cold steel  heartless machines.

Depress levers simultaneously,

while protecting self,

from the heat of,

the beast.


Repetition upon repetition shall be thy fate.

Seek coolness for thy weary body,

and heat for thy poor soul.

Ignore the mindlessness,

of repetitive movement,

productivity folly,

and the fumes,

the steam,

the agony,




It was to come that Fred challenged the will of automiton,

and the machine was not to be challenged so lightly.

Woe unto him who challenges without due care.

Fred did not flee the trepidation of machine.

Machine begged its teeth to be sharpened.

It was obliged and responded,

without love.

It bit Fred.


And Fred said to those who would listen

 “Thou I fear not the pain in my wounds, nor my blood on the floor, I fear for my ‘self’  – – – – that it may stay here in these caves of darkness.”

Thus Spoke Fred


Tomorrow: “Joining the Legions”