[poetic storyteller]
In days gone by, we shared with paper and pen.
We mailed letters, hand written, like gentlemen.
We even tied them to birds, pigeons in flight,
And hoped the message would get there, if it took all night.
Eventually, came computers, connected with wires!
Messages blossomed, fast-internet-inspired.
Bits of light and data, the world they rounded.
Ideas and stories and communication abounded!
Then the snooping, it started, slowly at first,
For consumers and citizens, then it grew in a burst--
With names, quite creepy, made on government floors.
The spies, they could watch, what was once only yours.
Some people encrypted, then fully disconnected.
But with thumb drives and discs, they still weren't protected--
From government heavies who took the whole set,
"Sit down, ol' chap, you may be a terrorist yet!"
With nowhere to hide, and rights on the wane,
You couldn't even send messages by plane!
So wires were cut and flights taken no more,
'Til an ingenious invention evened the privacy score.
With paper and pen, we were free at last.
We'd roll it in scrolls, stick it on a pigeon's ass!
And so goes the story, how we got our privacy treasure,
Once Glenn Greenwald . . . killed the internet forever.
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