We play the machines, but the machines also play us. This we don’t deny like they do in conventional music. There the man is always considered superior to his machine, but this is not so. The machine should not only do slave work. We try to treat them as colleagues so they exchange energies with us.
“
The most astonishing suicide took place in this resort community. A young man descended into the basement of his family’s home, where the father maintained an elaborate hobby workshop with all manner of meticulously cared-for tools, and he severed his leg with a table saw. Before losing consciousness, he cut off a hand as well.
He left no note, nor, as is the fashion these days, a video of himself.
His classmates at school said that in the preceding week he had been quieter than usual and he hadn’t been as neat or as organized as he usually was, or on time. But no one knew him really. How many ways do we discover the inaccessibility of another’s mind.
“
Joy Williams | “Mr. Sandman”