Back in the early 60s, I found a poem in a SciFi pulp magazine that I loved. I’ve never been able to find it again. But I still recall it to this day.
Now I am Faust and Faust is you
And we, the witches who hailed Macbeth
We have the lightnings of a God
But not his eons, we know death
And we who stand, high above the Earth
On poised, foolhardy feet
That go towards ending
Came from Birth
We wonder sometimes what we do
Besides achieving balance
Faust, I, and the witches
For the last 40 years, that has echoed in the back of my mind. It still has a powerful message for me. I wish I knew what magazine it came from and the poet’s name.
What brought this to mind, you may ask?
This article that just might be life following fiction… the arming of SkyNet.