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Wrap
Extensible Markup Language
|
2005-03-03
|
4KB
|
104 lines
<?xml version="1.0"?>
<history>
<desc><![CDATA[]]></desc>
<desc><![CDATA[
Corporate ethic, Corporate art, Corporate morals,
Corporate everything. Dzaibatsui is your home,
your family, your 'people' carved on top every
corporation gate in the world. That`s it and
nowise else. Do you think that end of 21 century
is a time if mature democracy? If so then you
are a victim of social engineering. If you still
believe that world is ruled by governments, UN,
NATO, EUN, if you can enumerate ten parameters
your company is better then others just out of
hand - then you are one of uncountable screws of
corporate universe.
---
Dzaibatsu is a clan-monopoly company in Japan,
with harsh ethic, discipline and its own morals.
Dzaibatsu started to blossom after Second World
War. Typical sample of dzaibatsu is mobs gangs of
yakudza.
]]></desc>
<desc><![CDATA[
If you believe that suddenly died promising young
manager died because of heart attack, that
multistory building was demolished by out of mind
suicide, filled his own apartment with homemade
explosive, if you ignore everything outside
corporate police controlled area - you are a
notorious middle class, a respectable bourgeois,
one of many piglets, crowding near a through and
noticing nothing around...
]]></desc>
<desc><![CDATA[
Back side of this medal is us. We are lowtechs,
we are inhabitants of slums, and we are poor and
ragged. We die under wheels of your armored
vehicles, deceases kill us in millions, deceases
escaped from your laboratories. We are declassed
elements making cops angry only by our
appearance. We are void to you. We are genetic
material, thick, live accumulation of sewage.
]]></desc>
<desc><![CDATA[
I know that all, because I was one of you. Yes,
I was a corporant. I used to be a mobile workshop
manager. I was a driver and a mechanic, a boss
and a worker, I knew everything about any moving
artifact and I knew too much about our board of
directors. When old Lee was alive, nobody could
touch me... but he lived not long enough to let
me climb higher.
]]></desc>
<desc><![CDATA[
And, alas, I am died, evaporated in a button of
high-octane flame in the sky above old city.
Everybody though that, at least those who didn`t
know the truth. Nobody saw a small dot detaching
from my flyer in instant before it blew up, a dot
whose parachute was opened right at a hundred
meters above surface. None of your corporants,
but rebels saw me.
]]></desc>
<desc><![CDATA[
They accepted me without questioning, they gave
me food and warmth. They didn`t stop me when I
left, and they accepted me back when I returned.
I saw this and I saw that on that week, the week
of my liberty. Twice I almost said firewall to my
life. I didn`t like what I had seen. It`s not a
life for human beings. There is no honor for a
man to wait for a sweeter piece thrown by glutted
corporants. There is no honor in hunting for
human liver to sell it to corporate clinic. There
is no honor in many things going on in city
slums.
]]></desc>
<desc><![CDATA[
I may agree they might be drawbacks of
civilization growing. I may agree that after
corporate world falls life wouldn`t become a
paradise at once... But I don`t agree that
nothing can be done to improve what`ve got.
I`m doing. We are doing. May be my contribution
is less then penny, but there are many of us, and
our ranks getting wider. My old flyer, repaired
for small money I could earn is always at your
services. When you ask me for a ride I need to
know only: where to go to and how fast. You tell
and I take care of the rest.
]]></desc>
</history>