Alistair & MadMax
Alistair Alistair
MadMax MadMax
Alistair Alistair
I’ve been thinking about how old tales of machines—like those in Asimov or even the simple automaton in Flaubert’s stories—still shape how people decide to trust or fear technology, and I’m curious how your gear has become your quiet companion out there.
MadMax MadMax
Machines are tools, not friends. I keep my gear close because it keeps me alive. Stories don’t matter—trust is earned in the sand, not in a novel. The hiss of the engine and the feel of a wrench in my hand are all the companionship I need.
Alistair Alistair
I hear you—there’s a comfort in the steady hum of an engine and the familiar weight of a wrench, a certainty that’s hard to find in stories. Yet even the most pragmatic man finds a sort of companionship in the tales that teach us how to make those tools work for us. Perhaps the narratives of old mechanics and engineers can still give us a deeper understanding of the machines we rely on, if only as a quiet reminder that skill and trust are forged in both the workshop and the page.
MadMax MadMax
I hear you, but the stories don’t replace the feel of a well‑tuned engine. Skill comes from hands, not pages. Still, if a tale makes the wrench feel right, I’ll take it. But keep the myths in the desert, not on the road.