I met a traveler from an antique land who said, to vast and trunkless legs of stone stand

in the desert.

Near them, on the sand, half sunk a shattered shattered visage lies, whose frown and wrinkled

lip and sneer of cold command, tell that its sculptor, well those passions read, which

yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, the hand that mocked them and the heart that

fed, and on the pedestal these words appear.

My name is Ozymandius, King of Kings.

Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.

Nothing beside remains, round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless in bear, the

lone and level sands stretch far away.

That's what drives us, Anazzy, the idea that more is possible, and we're not afraid

to challenge assumptions about the way the world is, in order to see the way the world

it could be.

That conviction is right in our name.

Yup, it's from the Percyfish Shelley poem Ozymandius, and yup, most folks read that poem

as a caution against big egos and the impermanence of power.

We read it differently.

To us, the poem says, think big, but be humble, lest you end up, too vast and trunkless legs

in the desert.

We know that's an unconventional interpretation, and that's who we are, because in a world

we're littered with conformity, we like to see things differently.

We hope, through Ozy, you will, too.

...