Age of Hermes

When you clasp hands with another and say, "Thank you, talk soon,"

I am there.

I am the god of making it happen. Letters, data cables, and messaging.

I am the god of enterprise and, not coincidentally, thievery. I have cameras for eyes and speak through wavelengths invisibly.

I was a minor God once, when you were herding, orating, and by stars navigating. You feared storms, you feared death—Hard power was king.

Now, we simply evade it—better ships, forecasts, and medicine. Lightning trapped lightning in gold filaments, we made Zeus our denizen.

You once prayed for swift passage and a good price at the market. Today, my clients include Best Buy and Target.

I am the god of the multinational corporation, surveillance, conspiracy. We ushered in what some call the Anthropocene.

I’m all grown up now.

My followers run C-suites in tech, finance, and SaaS. Winged sandals became the wingtips I wear in first class.

I’m the god of information, darling. And in your world, that’s everything.