Cypherpunks is broken - Welcome to Secret Admirers

[John Young]

Cypherpunks has produced a slew of offsprings who are confident
the parents have been surpassed, are feeble, ghosts of their once
own offsprings of offsprings of offsprings. Some have become
mules unable to offspring so bray at one another neuteredly, some
tote-packing jackasses for secretkeepers, some little horses in a
geek carnival DEFCON, one a jester performing for food, bed
and hookup in a banana republic's UK squat, another raising wild
pussies on a hilltop armed to the gizzard against PETA warriors,
several offshore heroined and drunk in hot tubs of rotgut financial
shenanigans, others on a mechanical island harassed by EU
revenuers and algorithmic mermaids, quite a few incarcerating
themselves in courtrooms pursuing phantasms of conquering
an NSA long out of date by new improved GQNSAFSB, half a
dozen are dead, dying, diseased or headphoned heads mounted
on mathematics college entablatures. One is a high official
in DoD cybercommand-panic to the max, a twin doing the
same for PRC. A small number of geezers continue to write
code, that is hire kids to do that, but mostly consult to crypto
cretinous corporations, suckle on NGO-tit extortions, deliver
commodious farts on the speaker circuit, the best and brightest
take long naps, buy weekly, monthly, yearly lap dances, search
Google for their names, spit and shit blood, shed hair and flesh,
burst into episodes of cackling obscure hashes in elliptic
circles. Eyes and minds dim and flicker, maws whimper,
broken teeth and code pukes down shirt fronts, dapper
David Kahn dances into darkening visions of splendid
failure, crooning No Such Agency to the solo female
cpunk whose name is legend.

At 01:21 PM 10/29/2015, you wrote:
>Good luck!