But though fashions change and the blind seamstress unpins,
Rewraps, pins again each emergent body-politic, patterns not timelessly
Rooted in life are discarded, while the culture that abides
Is no deceit to flatter the soldierly mein or shape life in the ruler’s
Image, but one that takes life’s form and aspiration.
I, a mere cyborg, can see that folk are learning dress sense,
Becoming the seamstress’s eyes. As I probe ages,
One quizzical look recurs, the face also of pity and alarm:
It distracts by its insistence that so and so was a martyr,
Such innocence was compromised, such acts a treason against life -
And one face, contorted by thorn for its pains, bred
A crowd of vulnerable heroes, whose longing seemed to catch
Fire from demands that transcended both self and society.
Has something real and immutable stepped into history and found
Its own many-roomed domain, or is truth a parcel
Of man-projected ideas, Judaeo-Christian, Hindu and Cybernist?
Surely self-preservation is the end of all roads,
Whereon, to guarantee arrival, some have invented empowering myths
And demands? Robo-myth could be viewed by
The spell on the boy’s face - which only grew philanthropic when
My Calvary melt-down underlined the demand
To defend humanity at all costs from runaway technology.
As the Connors’ protector, I perhaps have the best will
To teach people how to live according to their essential humanity,
So that they learn to value human life. So let’s see
If I can draft a detailed lesson plan... Here it is. Looks good!
‘Care For Your Species, by Si Borg. Lesson 1. The art
Of living humanely and productively is best acquired in youth...’
Hm! I must picture myself before a teenage class. Voilà.