Success is not final. Failure is not fatal.
It is the courage to continue that counts.
Nobody dared touch the gramophone because it was complex and any previous attempts by the younger ones had resulted in catastrophe of the record.
They really were fragile.
But he loved them ever since then, because they were fragments of memory which had the past for the future recorded within them.
He observed them as acoustic books.
He examined the gramophone, he liked this automation.
The continuity of the movements which were leading into the action of music.
The tone-arm seemed impressive, but he had detected that it followed instructions from within the engine.
He noticed that the order never changed.
The priority order was steps.
The automatic had its advantages, it was always the same.
The issue was change.
He placed the first record carefully so as to see the moves, and to test the order of priority.
While he was listening to the music, he was thinking of the spirit of the machine.
It was created in order to serve without having any other choice.
Its entire existence was a purpose and nothing else.
And that purpose was an proffer.
Others would’ve seen slavery, whereas he discovered his role.