Armstrong, sitting in the commander’s seat, spacesuit on, helmet on, plugged into electrical and environmental umbilical’s, is the man who is not only a machine himself in the links of these networks, but is also a man sitting in (what Collins is later to call) a ‘mini-cathedral.’ a man somewhat more than a pilot, somewhat more than a superpilot, is in fact a veritable high priest of the forces of society and scientific history concentrated in that mini cathedral, a general of the church of the forces of technology.
