I give you the work of one of the world's greatest novelists. I am quoting from one of his stories that struck me as remarkably timely To make your read more challenging, I have only removed a term used then and replaced it with one we use now, "The Computer."
When, do you think, was this written? And by whom? You do not know him for science fiction, which made my discovery of this tale yet more astonishing.
Here it is:
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
Come back next week, and you will find out who wrote this.