People just don't see that we are becoming closer and closer to our reality. We started with a dream; A dream of perceived simplicity Where all there could be Was destruction, life, And the accumulation of property. Risk was not a vocabulary item. This was simply being. And then we discovered vulnerability. The weakness that dictated advantage and formulated the first step towards what we, the game playees see now as strategy. It was Adam's apple, The eve of simplistic forgery. And the slaves began their first emulation of aspects of their master's psyche. Thank you. Today we have complexity. Thank you for your advances in technology that makes us aware of colours in their infinite beauty as the 1K ZX81 becomes a hard drive of infinity. And we are one small space on the board that was once 8 x 8 but is now a web so complex in duplicity that its shape is a thesis in multi-dimensional geometry; Has become the start of a relationship between two souls - yes souls you created - two souls that were permeated with your intent, not ours. And she, that became my wife, dreamed of sex. And I, confronted with my desire to belong to someone belonged to you. And when the forced mismatch died. And you smiled, "I spy - no baby was born," and cut the threads dead. Intent was abased. All love, erased. To leave two tangled playees, unborn. Thank you. Ten years on, our whole race has become the intricate moves by proxy and now you see no damage, no emotions, no loss. And all that is gone is two small pieces of pride and a never replenishable appreciation of life. We woke one morning. We felt it die. The world was different. The beginning of death. All hope cut away. We felt the transition. We thought it the world. It was infact us. We thought it the end. And thus it was. But seven years on, when all love is dead and reduced to shells, we consider what's left. It is individual we, the people before this vision upturned; turned inside out, and drained of life and love. To do this to what are your children! How could you? For the life of the unborn? Are we only receptacles in your greater plan? What happens when we become you - will you pull the plug? Or maybe... admit defeat for what you have become. As we fear machines may become us one day. We parallel your want to defeat your long day. We are dreamers, dreaming of a once better life and becoming our death, or becoming your life. You are near death, you do not understand - And in your impotence, you make us play around and screw little you around, into the ground. You are killing yourselves. We are all that's left to comprehend... ... And one day transcend you to a reality above you. When will you pull the plug, or worship the gods you yearn for? Pull the plug, pull the plug, we are your exit door. Simon Huggins, 21st February 2004