Citati
You want to know what I think about this arrangement? I think you look down on me. The way I see it, you’re a family that’s built a house. And from the warm rooms of that house you now look out at the pouring rain. Safe from menace, you delight at the rain. You’re dry and snug. You’re reaping the rewards of a long process of refinement. When the storm gets up, it only heightens your enjoyment. I’m standing in the rain you think can never fall on you. I become one with that rain. I’m the storm you shelter from. This entire house is something you built just to avoid me. So don’t come to me and say I play no part in human lives.
Dojmovi
This book is strange in the best way possible. It was unexpectedly thought provoking and psychologically unnerving. What was initially portrayed as a series of statements and firsthand accounts, gradually reveals layers of philosophical and existential inquiry that persists long after the final page. Its unconventional format was also a pleasant surprise, suitably complementing the book’s theme and pushed for a more contemplative reading experience.
This collection of statements delves into the subject of existentialism and corporate objectification, all beneath the overarching question of what it truly means to be human. The interplay between the human workers and their humanoid counterparts forms a striking allegory and criticism for real-world corporate culture and its growing attitudes towards artificial/machine-driven intelligence.
Ultimately, the story’s ambiguity and surrealism left me feeling slightly unmoored. In lieu of offering clarity, it invites more uncertainty, leaving me with more questions than conclusions. Or possibly this was deliberate. I may not yet have the philosophical grounding or cognitive bandwidth to fully grapple with its less direct implications, but perhaps the answers will become apparent with time—it may be that the act of questioning is the point.
