The Song of Salutation
Sunlight entered the atmosphere. Infinite in
number; tiny cracks in reality. Coated was this third and
most sturdy crag, by an odd and canonizing blue
light. Adorned it was, by a tuxedo veil of adulation. Know
hope, O ye workingmen of the world. Here is thy
home. Serious, unique. A scrapper of a mountain.
Eternally she struggled. To win over both her noble
compatriots! - was this possible? The home of high
finance had never been here. Problematic. Treasure
speaks loudest at planetary councils and noisy
caucus-halls of ancient tribesmen. Yet strong and clear
thy voices! On this venerable hilltop, long had they rung
out in support of the salaried. In one generation after the
next, you fought for your beliefs. Here the proletariat did
indeed have a vote. Enlivening march musics! - on these
rocky windwards and leewards, you heartened your
causes. But in such warlike climes as these - was it now
out of its depth? Many had filibustered, in vain
endlessness, to achieve solidarity of a peaceful strain.
Unsuccessful! O grim testament to mankind's love for
simpler solutions, of axe and obsidian knife. You are
what we've had... Still, long had stood the workingman's
sister. Its very presence was salutation to success and
accomplishment engendered. Threatened now - in its
estimation - by inexorably marching power, it resisted in
earnest lest it be forever submerged. Strong was the little
sister! She was better provisioned and more determined.
To work her will upon their majestic world of peaks, ridges, and
valleys! She would pay whatever price fate required. The
median sister's partisans! Determined to hold back your
petite neighbor, you do seem. At any cost, Providence,
they howled in reply. Glacial progress, how you swept
away... Even to the point! Make common cause with
them? Grandees and aristocrats? To the west! - the
tallest sister. A firmer confederacy than one might think.
Difficult to perceive, it was. The only remaining query! -
would it be enough? Who knew? Only time would tell,
and this marched onward. Raise awareness then, you
fierce and greedy virus! Clock, you are a voracious
crocodile, and one with open jaws. All the many masses
of men are helpless against thee...
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