the industrial revolution amplified the ability of human hands with machinery, thereby turning craft into industry. this speeding up of production hasn`t slowed down in 150 years. the individual can now, with power tools and machinery match the output of a small factory and , with computerisation and robots, one man can run a megafactory, turning hundreds of cars onto the street each day. in many ways our means of production has far outstripped our ability to consume the products we produce. we can`t possibly earn the money to buy all the things we are making and selling.
consumerism will eat it`s self.
what will be left is a robotisation of the human psyche. we have extended our brains, through our limbs, and into the pulse of the microprocessor assisted machines. we have become part of the machine and have given up the earth rhythm that nurtured us for thousands of years before the orgy of the factory arrived.
our souls cry out for the smell of the green grass and the breeze on our faces, yet the clock ticks by eating up the moments until we go back to work, to match the grinding of industry that presses artlessly along, oblivious to the wash of the tide and the ebb and flow of the seasons and the organic life that we are a part of.
we so precisely match the industrial rhythm that we wake moments before the alarm, barely feeling that we`ve slept, to rise and race to meet the clicking and ticking and rolling of the work attached to the factory. whether we push paper or buttons or tools the rate is the same. marked by the payments of bills and punching of timeclocks and filing of taxes, our hearts beat in sync with this inhuman meter to the point where our hearts and minds can`t keep up and we fail into sickness and stress and we become useless to the machinery.
and why do we do this to ourselves when we wouldn`t do this to a dog?
because everybody has to have a job. everybody works. what`s wrong with you?
the robot can talk...........