In 1971, FACIT thus sits alongside the other, global firms that had helped remake the world of business in accordance with principles of scientific management, Fordism, and Taylorisation beginning in the interwar period. Indeed, 1971 might very well be seen to mark the beginning of the end of FACIT’s four decades of expansion as it saw its market dominance in mechanical adding machines decline sharply with the advent of electronic calculators, throwing the company into crisis and prompting a move into “data products”, printers, and computer peripherals. While the other big typewriter brands - Olympia, Aristocrat, Remington, Olivetti, Underwood - are cheekily misspelled, “FACIT” is not, a choice that speaks to the company’s stature in the industry, even as Enright’s “maid” reproduces the gendered stereotypes that had attached themselves to the typewriter since the late nineteenth century. All of these changes, it would seem, are imminent in the typewriter itself, and at the centre of Enright’s poem is his own machine, “a Swetish Maid/Called FACIT”. Here, as if already fully formed, are the “feels”, “LOL”s, ‘ersatz orthography’, and neologism that we have come to recognise in online discourse, from email and text messaging to social media and internet bulletin boards. No doubt meant as a critique of the havoc wreaked on poetic craft by the advent of the typewriter, from our contemporary vantage point the poem cannot help but read as an uncanny anticipation of the way digital modes of communication have come to reshape writing and the use of human language. Enright offers a reflexive commentary on the literary possibilities opened up by mechanised writing. In his 1971 poem, “The Typewriter Revolution”, British writer and critic D.J.