On the shore of Windy City,
within a theatre grand and proud,
Caffeine-laden, seated there,
notebooks readied, pens to hand,
And here we learned, and listened, and noted:
Theremin’s Thing, Celebrity-as-mythos,
Fearful futures displayed, and hope.
Gaps in the aethersphere,
in which are found magic;
dangerous and wild and wonderful.
The path of ease was offered, rejected, quit,
spurned for its high cost.
The damage it wreaks, and has wrought.
Perhaps at this point, you feel that
poetic structure has failed me.
That’s the point.
Webstock is, on paper, a conference.
There is a form – speakers and talks,
in a schedule.
The form is a lamppost. It provides utility,
yes. Familiar & predictable, it binds
Yet, the purpose is not the lamppost:
It is the light.
Webstock shone brightly.
And now, so must we.