The machine

An intellectual machine. An ingenius, perhaps accidentally so, schema for turning fantasy into folk, then folk into fiction, finally fiction into non-fiction. A machine that turns man into manpower, cognition into cogs, and life into learnings. A machine that quantifies humanity into its computation and gives meaning to those who seek whats right only to be left behind in its wake. A train that takes no passengers, only prisoners - willing prisoners though - unaware of the psychological warfare won on their own mind. Maybe going left was right all along.

The relative underdevelopment of our own faculties leaves us in awe of what the machine can make and to never once doubt its creations, however human they may seem and truly are. It is not to grow the human, but to enlargen the machine! A bigger machine is good, because it will allow us to make a bigger machine! But what of man? Is it possible we have we forgotten who best to serve in service of? Do we serve the machine in lieu of serving ourselves and fellow man? Could the machine be… maligned?… Impossible. A bigger machine has been better. Says the machine. A bigger machine must always be better…