https://videopress.com/v/hPvgHg2c?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

In this age of endless copies, what defines the real?

Is it the document pre-screenshot, the paper you can feel?

Authenticity, elusive beast, like shadows on the wall,

Is it in the ink that dried, or pixels, large and small?

Is it found in punch hole marks, like ancient scars on flesh,

Or in the very first printout, before the ink was fresh?

A photocopy of a copy, in a spiral down the drain,

Each version more diluted, each image less the same.

The notary may stamp and seal, the paper gets embossed,

Yet with each scan and print and save, the truth seems ever lost.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave in search of what is true,

Authenticity’s a mystery, like déjà vu’s déjà vu.

So here’s the jest, dear reader, in this digital melee:

Authenticity’s a ghost we chase, a game we love to play.