Public Displays of Idiocy & Other Things Best Left Hidden

Back in the day, in ages dark and private,

Before virtual beacons were aimed and shone bright,

Flooding secret corners of the heart and hearth with light,

Foibles and failings and sad little character flaws

Remained mostly concealed, left at home with the family,

Stuffed in the back of the closet with the old plaid bathrobe.

Presentable illusions sewn of whole cloth were well-kept

And stored right up front and center, and donned like

Sunday-go-to-meeting dress-up clothes, and casual

Acquaintances, passersby, and close friends alike, most

Likely thought “what a fine young man, well-spoken,”

or maybe “a real lady, she is, brought up right,” as it were.

But time passed, as time will, and a new age began:

A computer in every office, rabbits in disguise,

Breeding, offspring popping out up willy-nilly.

One in every home, one in every room, and soon

Enough, one in every pocket of even ten-year-olds.

And Al Gore invented the Internet.

Cyberspace colonized and lo, a new frontier of

No bricks and mortar, but Windows, lots of windows.

One on every desk, all made of one-way glass, right?  

You could look out, and so you did, closet voyeurs that you are,

Safe in the knowledge that no one could see you.  

Except, wait! No one can see you…

“No problem, grasshopper. We are the new Einsteins,

Or at least the new Edisons. We’ll get on it.”

The whiz kids went to work and they invented

(Virtual) lightbulbs to light up your life: your office,

Your bedroom, and oh, yeah, your closet, where (uh-oh)

All the foibles, failings, and sad little character flaws live.

“Let there be Facebook,” Zuckerberg et al declared.

And so it was. “Give us your status and your pictures,”

They pleaded. “Give us your life. Here, have some Skype.”

And you came forth in the millions. Well, guess what?

The one-way glass doesn’t matter anymore, because

The window is wide open, and everyone can see in.

And there you are, in all your exposed glory.

***

Link at dVerse Open Link Night