This is my homage to the spirit of invention.
I use “He” in the broadest possible sense, encompassing all possible genders.
I also cannot vouch for any of these scenarios actually having played out. I make no effort at historical accuracy. I merely state the rather obvious proposition, that the source of all inventions is a problem.
The title is a tip of the hat to the tech world, as I remind them of their deep roots, in the age-old quest to improve communications. According to Wikipedia, source code is code, written in plain-text, human-readable programming language, which is then converted to binary, so that computers can interpret it.
Thanks for coming by to read!
He, who wrote upon the sand
And watched the waves lap up,
Erase his brief, ephemeral thoughts:
He chiseled marks in stone.
He, who lost the will to write
A letter penned at night,
Among the trench’s bombing blasts,
He crafts the telephone.
He, who once, in Roman forum’s
Shouting, shy, defied decorum,
Tiring of remembering,
Pushed stylus into wax.
He, who watched, when nothing’s on
And longed to pen a different song
And channel thoughts to all mankind
and hear them channeling back:
He orchestrated all the night,
Broadcasting, bits and bytes.
Copyright 2021 Andrea LeDew
For another poem in praise of advances in scientific thinking, read Enlightenment.