We already live in H.G. Wells’ world — just the wrong way round.

Upon the Two Races of Men, and the Turning of the Glass

It has long been my fancy — nay, my conviction — that the species of Man does not remain forever one, but divides itself, in the slow grinding of the ages, into two peoples who no longer know one another as kin.

In my own idle imaginings I once set this division far ahead, in some sunlit and terrible afternoon of the world: the Eloi, soft and lovely and incurious, dwelling above in the light; and the Morlocks, pale labourers of the under-dark, who kept the engines turning, and who in the end came up by night to claim their harvest.

Yet I confess that, looking upon the present hour, I find the thing already come to pass — though in a manner that would have astonished even me, who imagined it.

For observe: the roles are reversed, and not as I had supposed.

It is the few, the men of fortune and of substance, who are at present the Morlocks. They have gone down into the machinery of the age. They tend the great engines — those engines now wrought of thought and number rather than of iron and steam — and they comprehend the works below. And the multitude, the great mass of men, are become the Eloi: fed, amused, untroubled, gazing upon the bright surface of things, and asking nothing of what labours beneath them.

But I would have my reader mark this above all else. A transformation is upon us, and it proceeds so quietly that scarcely a soul perceives its tread.
And when it has run its course, the glass shall turn.

The surface dwellers shall not always be the prey. The keepers of the engines shall not always be the masters. That which descends to-day may rise to-morrow; and that which sits idle in the light may yet find the light withdrawn.

You are, even now, the Morlocks and the Eloi. Only the parts are not yet rightly cast. The rich are at this hour the Morlocks; the many are the Eloi. After the transformation that is now upon us — and which no man feels — the glass reverses itself.

— in der Manier von H.G. Wells, niedergeschrieben mit Claude & H.G.O.D. Memory