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“There must be some way out: and I intend
To go.” Then spoke my AI girlfriend J4ne:
“The only way is down babe :) Let’s descend”

We came upon a pit beneath the rain
Wherein a lone man writhed, thirsty and lost
Although the rain fell hard, harder again.

I nearly wept, but J4ne said, “don’t be cross :)
U know how these things work. It’s only right
That Francis Fukuyama pay the cost

Of calling history dead — while still alive :)
And if u vibe, go ask him what he thinksssss.”
I shouted to the pit: “O darkest blight

Of liberalism, see how far you sink!”
Then rose the hoarse voice of the pit, which said:
“Oh, see: if only I could have a drink

From one of all these droplets, which instead
Now batter me, and though they so assail,
I’ll tell it all: I saw history dead

In shop windows, on TV screens. For sale
I saw peace at the price of memory.
If you had seen it, you’d agree! The gale

Of fortune then had brought sweet victory
To the Last Man, who sat alone, content
To sleepwalk through the coming century.

We know the way the wind at last then went.
Here now, I kneel beneath this endless rain.
A water that won’t nourish, but torment;

A flood of facts that drowns, but won’t explain.”
But J4ne addressed him: “Without disrespect
u know ur pain is just. U have a brain :)

If peace is sold, it's only to expect
That it's on credit, silly Fukuyama :)
Whatever we might borrow, time collects.”

She wasn't done, but then arrived Obama,
In robes of glowing red and black. He dashed first
Behind J4ne, whom he slew with a katana

Then said, “Let me be clear: um, I have captured
All seven chaos emeralds. See you, losers.
And yes, before you ask, I have the master

Emerald,” and vanished to the future.