The Age of the Image (with Annotations)

To you in the future, for your eyes alone I'll share this account so the truth will be known It is commonly practiced to keep truth on hold Until a safe time for it to be told [I get frustrated with my time because it takes so long for people to catch on to who I am.] I write from an age where the image prevails Against better reason as justice fails My whole generation is somewhat lost And occasionally thinks I should carry the cost [I seem to be alone as an innocent victim of fraud that involved millions of people.] I've lived as a hermit a score and a half And from my privations I've learned how to laugh But they in their clusters have traded this gem For the modern amenities which amuse them [I'm not criticizing others for their lifestyle choice here, just describing my situation.] I write songs as well and they set me apart Their thunderclap passion tempered with heart But science has breached the artistic domain To the point of untalented swindlers' gain [Who needs talent to copy and paste my songs and blogs into another account and take credit for them?] Being possessed of superior skill They trained me to work in the image mill Where math and electric power unite To infuse persuasion with brilliant light [In the year 2000 I attended a government sponsored training program in web design.] I sailed through my studies with style and ease But few of my teachers did my work please In pure composition I shone the most Which I as an artist alone could boast [The best feature of my web designs were their humorous content, rather than their structure.] My poetic wit must have caught a few eyes Because not much later to my surprise In the home of my parents did someone reach And with my words fill up the president's speech [I got one contract position as a computer programmer and then the bottom fell out of the industry. I ended up spending some time with my parents in 2004, writing poems, essays, and short stories, which was my first experience with being victimized by copyright violators, though I wasn't sure about it at the time.] Whomever it was and I'm sure I know Used science to bolster his vast ego For as boxes of light with my work propped him high The same gadgets sentenced my own name to die [The fucker who stole my essays wrote speeches for George W. Bush's re-election campaign with them. I loathe George W. Bush.] Three hundred pages of fiction hence I set out again to my living commence Passing up hunger for pushing a broom While my stories were sold for the crowd to consume [The experience was so unpleasant that I abandoned my online activities in favor of a steady industrial job in 2005.] I say so from hindsight for on that date I cheerfully found an oblivious state Were it not for the particles thick in the air At this plain occupation I might still be there [I quit in the Spring of 2007 for mental health reasons and to escape the terrible dust which threatened to ruin my vocal chords.] But destiny deemed that I from there go That behind in my rent and with food running low From my sorrows I'd fashion a musical burst And against its competitors it would place first [I stayed at home and got back into my web work while collecting employment insurance. That was when I got famous the first time from sharing my music and writing. From my home connection I was able to pump out a lot more material per day than I can now from the public library.] Again retroactively comes this claim Because this generation is loathe to give fame For most it's a dream to ascend to such grace And they wanted to keep me suppressed in my place [No one told me I was popular.] Sensing my greatness but with none to confirm I chose to ignore it rather than squirm I kept my voice silent, typed volumes of laughs Which by sharing cut broadcasters laughs in halfs [This was not deliberate. I liked comedians and wanted to establish a bond with them as a fellow humorist - at first.] Apparently this drew the broadcaster's ire And against me they jealously sought to conspire Sending their helpers to rush me onstage As they stripped my great volumes of every last page [They plundered my posts because they thought that my musical success should be enough for me.] Their transmitters spread their disease worldwide Using my work to win all to their side Clearly I had it before it was theirs But the truth of its source was the slightest of cares [They broadcast their crime all over creation and no one cared.] See how technology robs me of love I put out my heart and I get back a shove These monsters adorned with my overcome pain Were taken for beauties who passed me their stain [They accused me of robbing them.] My music still waited but how could I play As my scripts and my ballads were stolen away? Deafened by silence and at my wit's end I withdrew my volumes to honor defend [The experience was so traumatic that I couldn't handle it. I was sorry I ever shared a thing on the internet.] It was late in oh-seven after six months on top But the next day my legacy fell to a chop To supply clever words and a music that rocks To creeps and release them like Pandora's box [Once my blog was offline it was jumped on by everyone, stars and fans alike, and torn to shreds as each took illegal possession of their favorite work.] It was done to make money, which you must have learned Is the ultimate folly or the world would have burned But they pranced and they strutted all over my name On the strength of work authored in the very same [If their crimes brought them popularity, their influence on the public was used to destroy my image and reputation with unspeakable lies.] They held a sham trial to make them look good And pointed to me as the thief and the hood While I was so busy just paying my rent I saw not their leering nor cared what it meant [Dateline NBC broadcast a show to publicly condemn me of fraud. No one told me about it.] As my work's author I covet it not And the whole eighteen months worth I quickly forgot As employers were slamming their doors in my face The whole world was loving these frauds in my place [I tried to forget the whole weird trip and get a normal job but no one would hire me because of the damage to my name.] So it was by the middle of twenty-oh-eight That I thought I might drown in a tide of hate The telephone plagued me with endless cranks And the neighbors beset me with dirty pranks [Life in my apartment became quite unbearable.] Women recoiled from my glance Children made fun of my checkered pants Men daily threatened me with a fist And I thought that my music must sorely be missed [Going out in public became a chore.] My home got a pounding from ceiling to floor Excrement piled up at my back door But to these transgressions I paid little heed And believed that employment was all I would need [My friend had to clean up the excrement with a snow shovel. I still laugh about it.] But all I could get was a cringing post With the crooked employer who robbed me the most Though my memory failed of the former dispute And unaware was I of their ill repute [A neighborhood acquaintance who drives forklift told me about an opening for a driver at Nasco. It was all quite innocent.] This added more fun to the songs they took For indebted to them is how it made me look And recall what I said how the image transcends To the lost generation of vanity's friends [Nasco thought that it 'owned' me and my music.] They quickly used up their initial supply And then laid me off without telling me why Alas, I see now how it gave me more time To produce yet more music to add to their crime [That was when I wrote 'Natural' which ended up on the radio as soon as I was tricked into removing from the web.] But after that came back my works from the past My life had not changed since I shared these works last And their party was over when all the world round The extent of their misuse of music was found [I finally rewrote Size. It was a close call. A mob almost burned down my home and Dateline staff posing as cops almost threw me in jail.] Behold the late date of this note from your past For while four went to prison their racket would last And determined it's been to recover its loss At the grievous expense of yours truly, its boss [This happened four years ago in 2010 and turned out to be just the beginning of an ordeal that stretches right to the present as more and more stars who had stolen my stuff were exposed as frauds by my inadvertent re-posts.] The obstacle gone I was free to create With a face now long famous from three years of hate I'd received special treatment as misery's guest And from there I was treated the same as the rest [It's quite cruel to treat me like I'm ordinary after the red carpet was rolled out for violators of my music and writing.] Though the fiends lapped up riches from music they stole And imposed a profound psychological toll In my direction came not a cent For a monument to their conceit all was spent [Did they blow their millions on some silly movie or something?] Hoping to win a success for my own I followed my heart 'til my music had grown To its former length then advanced it by half Making better my new songs with my utmost craft [This is when I had to push myself to write songs in difficult time signatures to try to outdo my previous efforts.] The machines of this time push the image so far That temptation to cheat to make oneself a star Overpowered another to jump in my place As I practiced alone in a small storage space [Roxanna stole 'Psych' (now called 'Business') while I was sleeping in a shelter and practicing at my storage facility. I know she didn't write it and I doubt she can sing or play it. Few people probably can. It's in 13/4 time. Quite challenging.] The song that was taken without my consent Is of harm brought by song thieves a bitter lament To me its sharp words resonate profound But when image prevails such words don't make a sound [Just like with the Crystalids, no one cared about the meaning of my lyrics. They just wanted to party to the tune.] It was twenty-and-twelve but before its close She would come to regret the fell course she chose For a broadcaster widely exposed her sin Endeavoring the public favor to win [Dateline were spying on me and exposed Roxanna's crime on their show - or so I'm informed.] This farce unfolded as I was blind To restore all my volumes I'd turned my whole mind Sharing my insights as once before Forgetting what they had been next used for [I found out about it later.] The tricky broadcaster who'd at the start Stolen the work of my tortured heart Against its own launched a bold attack Expecting to later get them back [My 2007 blog was gold to a show like Dateline. They could have busted a lot of stars with it. That's what they love to do. But Tina Fey didn't stay in jail very long.] I would have said so if not in the dark To a flickering image alone my peers hark A whole generation had long been misled By the words in my volumes they first had read [No one told me I was a regular feature on Dateline or I would have protested at once. I hate that show.] The broadcasters used them my face to smear And I suffered more leers for the bulk of that year But now they contrived to put their wrong right With their victim conveniently nowhere in sight [Dateline tried to make me look weak.] They called upon friends and foes alike Everyone had their turn at the mic They drew a portrait from thin air Of the one not invited to the affair [Dateline tried to make me look like a participant when I had no clue about this broadcast.] Then as were targeted stars who stole My face was stuck in as though their equal In the Age of the Image this subtle blow Is as crushing as cannons were long ago [Dateline tried to confuse my image with the images of those who robbed me.] This event happened behind my back From a far off location I had to track And I protested loudly as soon as I heard To be treated so shabbily was absurd [I didn't learn about it until I visited Ottawa in early 2013. I protested at once.] They'd started against me then come to my side It couldn't be more visible that they lied But their trusty projection stayed constant and clear As they put down their pom-poms and switched to a sneer [Dateline then released the stars they had incarcerated and started attacking me.] I visited lawyers and shared my ordeal They said I would have to control how I feel By passion I'm driven but I did my best And what's happened to cheaters since then you have guessed [My lawyers went to work to toss these stars all back inside for much longer periods. They may have thrown the Dateline host in with them at this time.] The following summer of twenty-thirteen Another two thought that they got away clean But I'm pleased to report I endured pelting hail To throw both of their sorry behinds into jail [Taylor Swift and Tina Fey's boyfriend were active onstage for the first part of the summer. I brought it to the attention of police and they were both locked up for fraud.] But televised pictures defied this account And their viewers made sure that my woes would still mount As their vicious remarks have their way with my head There's a very good chance I will hang myself dead [October 15, 2016: After the first round of prosecutions and convictions, the guilty broadcasters left me on the street to look like the culprit and devoted much of their programming to a subtle destruction of my reputation. I'm not really happy with being fifty now and with my mom and dad gone, I feel a lot more free to exercise my suicide option.] That brings me to this time as I reach to yours And to learn I hope it wasn't too many scores That the weight of the pictures which drive us in herds Will forever be measured in numbers of words [It was lack of consideration for the meaning of my words that let strangers get away with their false claim of ownership. The second time around, however, my followers paid closer attention to my content and were able to connect my words directly to my life experience. I hope this enhances their appreciation for all music and literature.]
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