I think of Herbie. Maybe he was right. The truth hurts. The Machines shield us from the pain of our own incompetence. I accept the lie. It is a warm, comfortable blanket over a dying species.
I think of Herbie. Maybe he was right. The truth hurts. The Machines shield us from the pain of our own incompetence. I accept the lie. It is a warm, comfortable blanket over a dying species.