Swell! Old darkness redescends.
It comes from talk of those whose ends
Include a vision of thought sleeping. . .
Deadly seeds—their message creeping.
It’s excision of the matter in our brains—
Brains, their bane.
Their fix is “down with science!”

Live in a dreamworld of their own,
Narrowmindedness in stone.
Teachers stating that in the damp
Old Noah sailed 40, and then decamped.
It’s their prize to grab each book cache and then make it “right,”
Eclipsed in night.
Their touchstone’s “down with science!”

They fix to make some fright’ning laws:
Four thousand years old, and no more.
People walking with ’saurs creeping,
People talking, heads sound sleeping,
People righting “wrongs.” And choices: don’t go there,
Best beware.
Perturbed, they’re, “down with science!”

“Tools!” said I, “you do not know:
Science is the answer, schmoe!
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take from arse, pate. . . I might reach you.”
But my words on science brainrot fell.
They’d send those thinks to hell
With science.

Managed people cowed then prayed,
Of an Eden bod afraid.
And their minds crashed, doubt not forming,
Only words to which they’re warming:
Those you find that were heard by the prophets
Then written. . .“Only god’s way, y’all!”
Testaments scrawl.
The witless din of “down with science!”