Last Sunday, I posted this, an excerpt from a long-ago book, believing it to be remarkably relevant to today:
We created the computer, to do our will, but we can not make it do
our will now. It has robbed us of the sense of space and of the sense
of touch, it has blurred every human relation and narrowed down love to a
carnal act, it has paralyzed our bodies and our wills, and now it
compels us to worship it. The computer develops, but not on our lines.
The Computer proceeds — but not to our goal. We only exist as the
blood corpuscles that course through its arteries, and if it could work
without us, it would let us die.
I substituted the term "The Machine" with "The Computer."
Who wrote it, and when?
Here is an entry about the work in Wikipedia:
"The Machine Stops" is a science fiction short story (12,300 words) by E. M. Forster. After initial publication in The Oxford and Cambridge Review (November 1909), the story was republished in Forster's The Eternal Moment and Other Stories in 1928. After being voted one of the best novellas up to 1965, it was included that same year in the populist anthology Modern Short Stories. In 1973 it was also included in The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume Two. The story is particularly notable for predicting new technologies such as instant messaging and the Internet. The story is set in a post apocalyptic world where people are living
underground because the surface is uninhabitable, and they rely on a
giant machine to provide their needs."
I was astonished to discover this from one of my favorite authors. I've read all five of his major novels, none of which, as I recall, hints at such a talent for science fiction.
The little book in which it appears, The Eternal Moment, was placed in front of my door by the lady across hall, with whom I communicate by passing notes -- easier than having to shout in her ear when we pass each other coming and going and her hearing aid is either not on or not working. She's funny that way.