The Great Machine

S. Kilbey

Appears On:

The Great Machine

Narration (unofficial)

[rev. Sept. 13, 2013]

i already tangled with a machine once before
hell, the machine dispenses methadone, punishment, education, taxes, pensions
everything you need
everything comes from and goes back to the machine
the machine works on many levels
the machine exists out there pumping it all out
who made the machine
and if it wasn't necessary why did we invent it
these questions like fish swimming through a sea
pontificating on the nature of water
we are immersed in the machine
we are bits and pieces
we are its cogs and teeth
we are its oil, its spirit
we are its raw material
and we are its end product
masters and slaves
the machine hums on day and night
no one can understand all the machine
no one can fix every part
it seizes up occasionally and that part atrophies
bits get welded on or plugged in
bits get superimposed and modified
parts are used elsewhere
the machine sucks in and blows out
the machine is cold and sanely insane
the machine must never be switched off totally
the machine is not optional
the machine will make any important decisions
the machine is running hot
the machine will survive our individual deaths
the machine looks after itself first
the machine is as fast or as slow as it needs to be
sometimes it gets damaged
sometimes it gets hurt
sometimes it has to repair itself any way it can
sometimes it needs you and me
it already has us but it needs more of us
more time, more money, more commitment
you can dedicate your life to the machine
you can work in its service for a hundred years
look, some parts are pretty
look, some parts are almost human
it sits out there, somewhere
part organic, part mechanical
part electrical, part spiritual
part causal, part mental
part sentient, part beast
part theory, part conspiracy
boys, is there anything that the great machine is not
it encompasses us
it surrounds us
it holds us up and down
the great machine measuring, affecting, removing
making stuff happen
taking stuff away
drains and cables and sewers and pylons and poles
it's all connected
it's chattering to itself all day long
it's got your number
it's got your blood type
it's got your mother's maiden name
it's got a blind spot bigger than siberia
it gets in late
it never does what you want or what you hope
it always decides against you
it always turns away
it never sees what happens to you
it doesn't know how to laugh
it doesn't know how to cry
it doesn't know how to stop itself
it needs some adjustment
it needs some help
but it knows what it needs
and it doesn't need you, common man
not the great machine