The Singularity (with apologies to Yeats)
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The admins cannot hear the faculty;
Things fall apart; the future will not stop;
Mere job training is loosed upon the (first)world,
The educated tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of employment is drowned;
The best lack all grant funding, while the worst
Are full of passionate Shirkyosity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Singularity is at hand.
The Singularity! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of the Chronicle
Troubles my sight: a waste of pixels;
A shape with Kurzweil body and the head of a borg,
A gaze brute and guileless as the endowment,
Is moving its slow bureaucracy, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant PhDs.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That two centuries of universities
Were vexed to complacency by an ahistorcial professoriate,
And what rough MOOC, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards the Internet to be born?
evening redness 
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