"the randomness that emerged from such precisely set-up machinery ... where, in the end, gravity always won"

From "Transition" by Iain Banks - in the voice of Patient 8262:

In Detroit I played pinball, in Yohohama pachinko, in Tashkent bagatelle. I found all three games enthralling, fascinated by the randomness that emerged from such highly structured, precisely set-up machinery knocking shining spheres of steel from place to place within a setting where, in the end, gravity always won. The comparison with our own lives is almost too obvious, yet still it gives us an inkling into our fates and what drives us to them. It is only an inkling, because we are submerged within a vastly more complicated environment than the clicking, bouncing steel balls and the pins and bands and buffers and walls they collide with - our course is more like that of a particle within a smoke chamber, subject to Brownian motion, and we are at least nominally possessed of free will - but by reducing, simplifying, it allows to grasp of something otherwise too great for us to comprehend in the raw.

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Orwell feared that what we hate will ruin us; Huxley feared that what we love will ruin us

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Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

Villanelle by Dylan Thomas, 1951

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

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