Lag Song by John Emig

This is the story of William White
who joined IRC one fine night
just to chat and pass the time
a smile to give and a smile to find.

William White had a power pc
the best you would ever want to see
he knew that he was perfectly ready
to hold a conversation, steady.

He dialed up his ISP
and put on a pot of tea
for William White had indeed decided
to take advantage of services provided.

And lo, he did dial
and lo, he did smile
for the signals were coherent
with the commands that he sent.

Imagine his glee and his delight
when his favorite crowd was on that night.
The emoticons, they flew happy
and the popups were all new and snappy
yes it was good and his TV dormant
for Bill knew friendships were more important.

But now creeps into his discourse
a sullen note of pained remorse
because he feels attention is lacking
from his loving hugs and joyful whacking.

What is this? Can it be?
Are all my buds ignoring me?
No, nay, it can't be so
it's something else that's stopped the show.

There's an evil force at large in the world
a Babelian spirit at innocents hurled,
an insidious device that can ruin talk,
an enemy at which the strongest balk.

lag - l. a. g.
not good for children, or you, or me.
It eats up all our online time.
It makes us loose the rest of our mind.
It makes me see all kinds of stars.
It makes others hang out in bars.
It holds back the hardy and destroys the weak.
I'd like to give its nose a really big tweak!

So brother Bill found himself, only
talking just to himself, souly.
Servers were sought,
curses were wrought
and even faster modems were bought
but the bashful Mr. Ping
did not his song of fellowship sing.

So now William White is alone again at night,
warmed by one-way waves - what a fright.