It started with a ball point,
A little plastic pen.
Forget replacement cartridge.
Buy new, begin again.
Before too long, repairing
Became something of a myth.
Discard the old, spend afresh.
Commerce’s great self gift.
Advancements in technology
Had ideas about forever
But panic is a fearsome foe.
Reduce their spending? Never!
‘We’ll have to get a grip on this
Before the market fails.
Put a halt on progress, chaps, or
We’ll be going off the rails.’
‘How about some plotting then?
Some bugs to keep them keen?
Repairs cost more than buying new?
Nudge, wink. Know what I mean?’
‘You’re joking, man, they’re not that daft.
Unless of course we’re wary.
This could save our arses, guys.
Penury is scary.’
‘How about we use components
That fail in maybe five years?
That would keep them buying.’
‘Sure, we’ve found the answer. Cheers!’
‘Now profit margin’s down a bit.
Some work is needing done
On putting up the ante, folks.
This could be such fun!’
‘Keep in reserve the best of stuff
And filter through the trash,
Give them a taste of what’s to come.
Same stuff, we’ll just rehash.’
‘We’re owed some homage for our work,
Humility, some obeisance.
We’ll get our kicks, lads, never fear
By planning obsolescence.’
It never ends. Manipulation.
Market forces, it seems,
Determine days from when a pen was filled
For inscribing future dreams.
scottishmomus 