The whole robot genre begins here. Which is weird.
Rossum's Universal Robots (R.U.R.)
It didn't change my world. But it gave me an excuse to re-read I, Robot.
Looking back on it, it's still a fascinating piece - reading liked an Ibsen or Bernard Shaw play - but with robots. How mad is that? Bring on Harold Pinter's Daleks, I say.
Remember that bit in Adrian Mole where he's in the Cherry Orchard playing a tree? For years afterwards I assumed the Cherry Orchard was about cruel cherry tree farmers and their rebellious trees.
RUR is pretty much that play. Only with robots rather than trees. And therefore brilliant. Who wants to see a play about grumpy trees?