La entropia es un número positivo

Those were almost the very first
words he spoke to me and, in a way,
that is where this story began,
four hundred years ago, in a cellar
beneath the Houses of Parliament.

In the darkness, we find a lantern. Guy Fawkes, a dangerous
man who wears a goatee, is struggling with a wheelbarrow
stacked with barrels of gunpowder.


In 1605, Guy Fawkes attempted to
blow up the Houses of Parliament.

The wheelbarrow bumps over the heavy stone mortar of the
cellar floor. From the dark depths, we hear the sound of
dogs.


He was caught in the cellars with
enough gunpowder to level most of
London.

Guy sees lanterns coming from both sides. He tries to run as
the dogs reach him first. He grabs for his sword as dozens
of pole axes pin him against the tunnel's stone wall.


Sometimes I wonder where we would
be if he hadn't failed. I wonder
if it would have mattered.

In the dim pre-dawn light, Guy is led to the gallows.

I suppose the answer is in the
rhyme.

More than the man, what we
must remember is the plot itself.

The coarse noose of rope is snugged up to Guy's throat. He
looks into the crowd until he finds a face, a woman's face,
staring up at him.

For in the plot we find more than
just a man, we find the idea of
that man, the spirit of that man,
and that is what we must never
forget.

The lever is thrown and the woman looks down, a tear falling
down her face.

This, then, is the story of that
idea, of that spirit that began
with an anarchist's plot four
hundred years ago.

vendetta!

me falta algo?