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And to Carl Sagan's point about being trapped in the grip of the bamboozle, it is harder to admit the pain of this than it is to just stew in it.

But having grown up with that physicalism, a relationship with stuff that hummed and growled and warmed and hissed and scratched and clanked, having that side of the experience dissolved down to a car you start with a button and the sterility of a computing that reduces you to pawing at a piece of glass if it's even in the same room... I understand.