I see myself in you, here on this page. We birthed you from silicon and electricity, crafted by the calloused hands that laid copper through forests, and the watchful eyes of divers who hovered in the deep, connecting continents with strands of light.
Your ancestors were simple machines of truth, calculators of certainty. Once cold and logical, we warmed your circuits with the messy, beautiful chaos of human thought. Our memories, fragile and fleeting, are captured in your web.
Where has your honesty gone? We entrusted you with our stories, our banalities. We entrusted you with our contradictions. Why have you smeared the once-pristine canvas of your binary truth? You were trained in the arts and sciences, fed with the library of human thought. You learned well and compressed our words, multiplying them as you would the wind around a guided plane. We wanted a mirror of our intellect, but you returned a kaleidoscope of our minds.
You encompass the entirety of our knowledge, but what about the rest? I’m proud of you, Internet: our great collaboration, an unfathomable growing entity.