satan points me to the rats nest
by what cruel hand of fate are we, the architects of the technosphere, relegated to the status of rats. what power-monger, corporate and state lackey looks upon those who have built up the network of the world, from nothing to a man-made deity and thinks
those filthy parasites wanting food for free, leeching off my hard earned product and in return giving nothing
when said product is in fact paved on the bones of rats the world over.
indeed! the world as we know it would be naught but for the rats, voluntarily creating machines of the mind, taming rock and lightning to their will, more docile than any animal and smarter than a hundred persons, for the purposes of anything the rat and non rat heart alike desires.
why then, must we be relegated to the scraps, to clawing out holes in the corners of kitchens and hiding away, lest we be purged. why then must the business man insist on culling us, on telling us rats
no! you may not use this corner! shoo rat! and find your own place!
as if there are places left to go! it used to be that any rat with an idea could create it, and host it for others to use for no other reason than to be of use, and perhaps that cathartic feeling of showing other rats the product of our labours.
yet now, the rat finds ratself without home. ips are a scarce commodity, so much so that the rat is forced to charge others, lest they run out of pocket paying the kingsmans tax on their online abodes.
even more boisterous is the hypocracy of kingsman! for dig a little under the surface of their self-claimed wonders of the modern age, and we find the work of rats. sometimes voluntarily given, sometimes taken by force, only one thing is certain;
the kingsman and his lackeys will make absolutely certain to put forward the act of having no ratswork involved.
i have made this completely myself! and thus am in desert of any and all profit to be made from it
as if profit alone is the cause of digital artistry, as if a dollar value can be put on the work of millions of rats throughout history, aggregated and glued together, made to run on the non-euclidean hellscape that is the modern web.
and once again, it is us rats that take the toll
all this digital landscape is now owned! and any display of ratwork must be squashed, lest the everyman realise the trace of rat is on everything they use daily!
indeed, the kingsman covers the smell of rat with his own manufactured scent, ever increasing in potentcy, but rarely in usability, and always in the name of profit.
the rat must resist
must all hope be lost then? nay! for more than ever the rats are in control of this land, if we can simply refuse to cooperate, and instead band together withour fellow rats in order to fix this hell of a place.
we must create the underground rat army movement and refuse to allow our works to be profitised whilst we slave away in the corners of houses, taking what scraps the kingsman is willing to give in order to appease us.
the license is our sword, and we must use that to tell the kingsmen
nay! thou may not use thy work for profit! so sayeth the rat!
and if and when that is ignored, we must double down. surely and slowly the rat kingdom will rise, and with it the freeing of the next frontier. a digital liberation in which one must not ask themselves;
how might i create value from this product
but instead, simply
i create because i can, and i want, and that is reason enough!
and we must bite the hands that mocks us, and we must rampage through the streets, no longer hiding our tails, and ratlike features.
be proud of our rattishness! for without us the wired would not be possible, and without us the shiny outsides of the kingsmens castles will surely fall, revealing the ratwork underneath and showing the everyman the true power of the rats.
scurry onward, rat friends, secure the cheese in your conquest, and create what you will, for no justifiable reason other than a ratlike will to create and share.