The Book of Strange New Things

by Michel Faber

He mustn’t let himself be deluded by imaginary horrors. God was never cruel. Life could be cruel, but not God.

In a universe made dangerous by the gift of free will, God could be relied upon for support no matter what happened, and He appreciated the potentials and limitations of each of His children.

Not for the first time, Peter thought about how much of our lives we spend sequestered inside small patches of electric brightness, blind to everything beyond the reach of those fragile bulbs.

“And who won?” She rolled her eyes. “The chemistry guys. They figured out how to adapt the fuel. It’s like … changing the design of the butt so the butt fits the chair. But hey, who am I to argue.”

How strange it was to be inside a machine again! All his life he’d been inside machines, whether he realized it or not. Modern houses were machines. Shopping centers were machines. Schools. Cars. Trains. Cities. They were all sophisticated technological constructs, wired up with lights and motors. You switched them on, and didn’t spare them a thought while they pampered you with unnatural services.