heroic.txt

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There was a certain smoothness to the whole thing, and since it's 
now all resolved, there's no harm in recounting the articles of 
faith we placed in the textfiles.  On the one hand, there was 
endless banter.  We all recognized the value in this worthless 
excercise, but fought incessantly over whose banter was best, 
what each sort of banter led from, led to.  Perhaps H.G. Wells 
forced this point home to us.  We were engaged in a struggle 
against horrible, evil forces, but we were, after all, 
individuals.  The details of our lives were of utmost importance.  
On the other hand, our endless faith in our abilities led to 
horrible seclusion and the creation of Mendelbaumian secret codes 
and rules for transporting information.  We became, thus, masters 
of our own domains as well as of one another's.  The main story 
in the assemblance of the files was thus one of smoothness 
punctuated by the most intense turbulence.  Above all, I think we 
were human.

It's no secret that the big picture we came up with for the new 
age was a two-fold system, which today is still in its infancy.  
The idea-sharing system was to be bolstered by the networking 
system.  We didn't know this, at first, of course.  We just knew 
that materials were bound to our needs to an almost Existential 
degree.  I doubt most people remember the level of superstition 
that existed before the files made their debut.  I certainly do.  
The late seventies still make their appearance in my nightmares.  
People blended their fears with their realities and followed any 
idea that seemed to promise Negro hookers at the end.  "This is 
not a pipe" was just another way.  The text files thus emerged 
out of a world at the end of its line.  Yes, we were human, but 
we were also heroes.

There, I said it.  We were heroes.  Pinning our hopes on nothing 
but the straight edges and rounded corners of letters, we 
achieved a humility unbeknownst before our time.  But, I'll say 
it again, we were heroic.

- John Touzios
  January, 2006
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