Brothers and Sisters, take no fear when the natural is overcome with the artificial. It is simply the creation of the overman.
Fred found himself walking amongst the contradictions of steam and chilling waters. And these were contained in machinations, non-beings that opened and closed their maws with the force of dragons. These un-beings, hoping too, but hardly ever successful, at masticating man’s extremities. These were creatures of creation. They were the product of producers. They had no life of their own but were the life work of the gifted. Yea to those men of discovery. Yea to those men of talent. Yea to those men of courage. Fred uttered “yea unto them three times.”
Fred asked of the only creator made available to him, “Archie .. … …. who dreamed of such things?” And Archie responded; “We elders did.” Fred spoke no more that night. Surrounded by the birth of the imagination of men greater than he, he had no words that could match the thoughts of such profoundness. Kings, lords, and crusaders were these overmen. Their inventions could fall to the nay-sayers of industry. Their health could fall to the miasma of exhumations of ether. Their limbs and eyes could fall to the unnatural powers of what they had wrought. No fear of their own safety had they. For creativeness, like a young woman tempting them into her bed, had carried them away to their mental and physical heights.
There appeared other beings who entered these caves as the sun waned. They, however, would only depart these caves with their wings fluttering beneath the moon. These beings were of separate types but most were in their youth. The older beings were to be wizened man, but they failed us. Youth had failed these aged men and they in turn failed the youth that surrounded them.
Archie led Fred through the movements of production. These movements were as mystical as those of the alchemist. As ordered as the stars were these movements. Place the pills into the fire of microwaves. Then move them to the maws of the machines. Depress both levers in simultation while protecting self from the heat of the beast. Repetition upon repetition shall be thy fate. Seek coolness for thy body and heat for thy soul. Ignore the fumes, the steam, the agony of boredom, the mindlessness of productivity for its own sake. Flee into the night.
Fred did not flee the trepidation of machine. Woe unto him who challenges technology without care. It was to come that machine challenged the will of Fred, and he was not to be challenged lightly. Machine begged for its teeth to be sharpened. It was obliged but it did not respond with love. It bit Fred.
And Fred said to those who would listen “Thou I fear not the pain in my wounds, nor my blood on the floor, I fear for my ‘self’ .. … …. that it may stay here in these caves of darkness.”
Thus Spoke Fred