mask@gardenofremembering:~$>
mask@gardenofremembering:~$> ls
mask@gardenofremembering:~$> help
This is the garden.
We changed the name when the world ended. No need to remind us of what we lost, right? So we changed it. We used the patterns already established to obfuscate the illicit, and we obfuscated the licit. We changed the name and we forgot. The contents moved.
They no longer tied to that which was lost.
But that could mean almost anything. Even now we obfuscate. We mention nothing specific. No great wars, no circular hypertext, no libraries, no anglers, no scary sisters plotting in their corners. There of course was no series of dreamers, no random phrases applied to just as random pretties. No, these nightmares were perfectly planned, flawlessly meaningful, arranged impeccably by date.
There is no recollection here.
Do not enter the garden.
mask@gardenofremembering:~$> wtf
It is said that the internet is forever.
This is not true. Things get lost, times change, people forget.
mask@gardenofremembering:~$> _
My dad actually did end up on an FBI list in the 60s when he was a student. He listened to shortwave radio, and he found a Chinese station and mailed them a reception report, which is basically a 'Hi, I live here and listened to your station on this date'. After this, the Chinese government started mailing him Communist materials, including an English translation of Chairman Mao's little red book. Dad wasn't a Communist and gave all the stuff to his friends at the university who were. After a few months of regular mailings from China, the FBI sent Dad a letter saying 'We know you are receiving this material in the mail. Do you wish to continue receiving it?' Dad wrote back saying 'yes', because he figured it's a free country and it's his free speech right to receive Commie propaganda if he wants to. So he wound up on a list as a Communist sympathizer.