Now again and now for ever breaks the great
illusion
of human
oneness.
Sons of
earth, sons of fire, sons of air and water
sons of the living elements,
sons of the unthinking gods,
women, women the same.
And then the hordes of the
spawn of the machine
the hordes of the ego-centric, the robots.
For listen! the ego-centric
self is the same as the machine
the ego running in its own complex and
disconnected notion
using all life only as power, as an engine uses steam or
gas
powers to repeat
its own ego-centric motions
this is the machine incarnate:
and the robot is the machine
incarnate
and the
slave is the machine incarnate
and the hopeless inferior, he is the machine
incarnate
an engine
of flesh, useless unless he is a tool
of other men.
The great industrialists know it.
Mr Ford knows it.
The brain of the machine knows
the limbs and trunk of the machine.
But oh, men, men still unmechanised,
sons of the elements and the
unspeaking gods
sons
of the wind and rain, sons of the fire and rock
what are you going to do,
entangled among all the engines
Behold the gulf, impassable
between machine-spawn,
myriads
mechanical
and intellectual,
and the sons of men, with the wind and the fire of life
in their faces, and motion
never mechanical in their limbs.