[LMB] O.G. Rappers OT:

Luke Bretscher rocketman0739 at gmail.com
Tue Aug 27 16:30:59 BST 2019

On Tue, Aug 27, 2019 at 8:29 AM Gwynne Powell <gwynnepowell at hotmail.com> wrote:
> I've referenced The Man From Snowy River here a few times. And probably
> Clancy of the Overflow as well. But here's another from Banjo Paterson:
> (This one is particularly good to read aloud, with great verve and emphasis.
> And, at the right moment, yelling.)
> The Man from Ironbark

That's a good one! Here's a poem that I especially like, not least
because it expresses an early-20th-century optimism about technology
that we seem to have lost today. Not without plenty of reason, to be
sure, but it's still fascinating to put oneself in a mind to consider
technology as unambiguously pro-humanitarian. And even from today's
perspective, there are plenty of far less admirable technologies than
hydroelectric power.

THE POWER PLANT - by Berton Braley

Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr!
The mighty dynamos hum and purr,
And the blue flames crackle and glow and burn
Where the brushes touch and the magnets turn.
Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr!
This is no shrine of the Things That Were,
But the tingling altar of live Today,
Where the modern priests of the "Juice" hold sway;
Where the lights are born and the lightnings made
To serve the needs of the world of trade.

Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr!
The white lights banish the murky blur,
And over the city, far and near,
The spell extends that was conjured here,
While down in the wheel-pits, far below,
The water whorls in a ceaseless flow--
Foaming and boiling, wild and white,
In a passionate race of tireless might,
Rushing ever the turbines through,
And making the dream, the Dream come true!

Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr!
The dynamos croon and hum and purr.
And over the city's myriad ways
The jeweled lights all burst ablaze,
And the peak-load comes on the burdened wires
As the folk rush home to their food and fires!

Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr!
This is the heart of the city's stir,
Here where the dynamos croon and sing,
Here where only the "Juice" is King,
Where the switchboard stands in its marble pride,
And the tender watches it, Argus-eyed;

Where Death is harnessed and made to serve
By keen-faced masters of brain and nerve;
This is the shrine of the God That Works,
Driving away the mists and murks,
Turning the lightnings into use.
This is the shrine of the mighty "Juice,"
Flowing ever the long wires through,
And making the dream, the Dream come true!

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