Metallica's Frayed Ends of Sanity: The Machines That Agree With Our Madness

Two years after I went wandering through madness with Metallica, Foucault, Nietzsche and Camus, an odd, loud quartet to take on a walk, I found that the question had followed me home. It had grown. It had learned to speak. And it was asking something more unsettling than before: what happens when a machine becomes the authority we consult about our own reality?