Notes and Reflections on Books and Media
by Hannah Leitheiser
"In the name of the Galactic Spirit and of his prophet, Hari Seldon, and of his interpreters, the holy men of the Foundation, I curse this ship. Let the televisors of this ship, which are its eyes, become blind. Let its grapples, which are its arms, be paralyzed. Let the nuclear blasts, which are its fists, lose their function..."
And the ship died! For it is the chief characteristic of the religion of science that it works
"Save our souls, your reverence. We are poor men, ignorant of the crimes of our leaders," one whimpered.
"Follow," said Aporat, sternly. "Your soul is not yet lost." - Isaac Asimov, Foundation (1951)