Our National Flower Is The Concrete Cloverleaf.

What Plethora Of Material Goods Can Possibly Atone For A Waking Life So Humanly Belittling, If Not Degrading, As The Push-button Tasks Left To Human Performers?

Mechanical Instruments, Potentially A Vehicle Of Rational Human Purposes, Are Scarcely A Blessing When They Enable The Gossip Of The Village Idiot And The Deeds Of The Thug To Be Broadcast To A Million People Each Day.

The Life-efficiency And Adaptability Of The Computer Must Be Questioned. Its Judicious Use Depends Upon The Availability Of Its Human Employers Quite Literally To Keep Their Own Heads, Not Merely To Scrutinize The Programming But To Reserve For Themselves The Right Of Ultimate Decision. No Automatic System Can Be Intelligently Run Byautomatonsor By People Who Dare Not Assert Human Intuition, Human Autonomy, Human Purpose.

It Has Not Been For Nothing That The Word Has Remained Man's Principal Toy And Tool: Without The Meanings And Values It Sustains, All Man's Other Tools Would Be Worthless.

The Cycle Of The Machine Is Now Coming To An End. Man Has Learned Much In The Hard Discipline And The Shrewd, Unflinching Grasp Of Practical Possibilities That The Machine Has Provided In The Last Three Centuries: But We Can No More Continue To Live In The World Of The Machine Than We Could Live Successfully On The Barren Surface Of The Moon.