I sit down to write this to clarify our (humans) path. To give it legs and arms and eyes.

Just as the Futurists of the fledgling Industrial Revolution, I let loose this battle cry.

The futurists bellowed as they ran headlong into a racing locomotive and instead of being run down, they adhered with love to the breast of the beast. There is, underlying their zealous endorsement of the machine, a hint of irony. Not a hint, an overwhelming aroma. Reading it now, one cannot but to be tactilely aware of the of the volume emanating from their statements. Wild enthusiasm for death as a cleanser to make way for the new, when the new was only a makeover of the old, now with clanking, humming, whistling and grinding.

With similar zeal and a sense of overwhelming joy, I yell as I retrieve the standard from the ashes of the industrial revolution. Now without 100 years to bake my declarations into crumbling confections of radical persuasion, this will lack, for all time, the ironic flavor of the industrial futurists' manifesto.
I yell, to get your attention. As you turn your heads to look, before your mind can assess, before you can look away as if you never had, you are infused with light.

Accept your uniqueness
Accept feeling/experience (how do you feel about it?)
Accept what you want to see around you
Accept positive change

The machine has shown us ourselves. The machine can free us from the mundane and put the power of creation into each of our hands. The machine can awakened the hidden/forgotten power within us all, if we choose it. The machine can allow us to gather the energy we need to prosper together, if we choose it. The machine eliminates the illusion of scarcity, if we can see it to be true. The machine can join us all in harmony, if we can understand.
The gears are in motion towards this ultimate resolution, but we must choose. Set yourselves within it.

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