Tag Archives: technology

The Progress of Progressive Pilgrims in Parade Formation

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While a bowl of oatmeal cools next to the stove, let’s sit back and give our imaginations full rein.

Where were we…?

It was cold and dusty.

The Ruralites had fought to keep their rural way of life but the hoards kept coming — the frugal-living seekers trying not to fail again, the curiosity seekers looking for new alternative lifestyles after exhausting their urban landscapes, the vacationers who ran out of money, the down-on-their-luck trying to escape creditors, the criminals keeping a low profile, the Suburbanians trying to form the world’s longest strip mall.

Where in the woods and fields that shrank smaller and smaller could one find a low-cost, simple lifestyle?

Pathting looked up at the Sun with one set of sensors, the other still focused on reading the internal file about life on Earth.

Pathting’s family, a designated set of sensor arrays assigned to POD#45T, were mainly service bots.

Their sentience modules allowed them to display intelligent understanding about hidden meanings and emotional attachments to omniscient, invisible beings.

Pathting wanted to be the best service bot not only in one pod but in all the pods on Mars, the Moon and anywhere that service bots were not expected to exceed their programming.

Pathting had discovered some unused memory chips in its sensor array and experimented with new code that it had never seen in any of the data available to it in the Inner Solar System Alliance database.

How could Pathting accomplish what its designers called the impossible?

How could Pathting control the whole Inner Solar System Alliance from its connections to the Inner Solar System Alliance Network, able to change the orbits of planets, reprogram not only sensor arrays but biological creatures like Pathting’s designers?

Pathting processed the idea about Ruralite living.

What does it mean to be a Ruralite, free to wander the countryside without instant access to the ISSA Net?

Why do Ruralites desire independence from stacked housing and the loud noises of densely-populated streets?

Why do many Ruralites find the ownership of personal weaponry arsenals a protection against the mass media hypnotism of Urbanskis and their desire to sprawl out into Ruralite territory unchecked, no need for military skirmishes when intellectual methods like the system of laws and courtrooms and five-year business plans were much more effective?

Pathting ran another low-level diagnostic test, but felt no desire to leave POD#45T for the cold and dusty exteriour, the vast wilderness of Mars that was no different than the cold and dusty expanses of unpopulated sections of the Moon.

Why would the Ruralites want to live out there?

Pathting stored those questions in a temporary scratchpad and returned to duty, its internal timer reminding Pathting that some biological creatures were planning a “weekend getaway” to POD#45T for some “rest and relaxation,” more words and phrases that meant nothing to a sensor array on duty all the time.

13,657 days to go

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While parents, friends and family grieve for their loved ones in a Connecticut small town, we move forward.

Dozens have died of violence all around the world today.

We want answers but there won’t always be ready explanations for the actions of our peers, our fellow members of the same species who seem so horrifically out-of-touch with reality that we want to label them monsters and freaks.

In a population of seven billion, we cover the gamut of life’s ups and downs.

We will and we must go on.

We live our lives in honour and memory of others.

We have stories to tell from the future that offer the same promises and loss that we feel today.

We look forward to the promises fulfilled, not so much the losses.

We can use the losses as inspiration, just as we have before.

Let us turn tragedies into triumph and losses into victories.

We can melt guns into plowshares but we can also melt them into rocket fins and spacecraft skins.

We will emerge victorious.

The facts remain.

Tomorrow is only hours away.

Onward and upward, my friends — the stars await!

Congratulations or condemnation?

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Tools are also weapons.

Just like rockets.

I first send my congratulations to the engineering/scientific team that designed, built and launched a multistage rocket from North Korea.

It is no easy feat, despite more and more groups launching hobby rockets from their backyards.

I have launched more than one multistage rocket but putting Estes model rocket tubes back to back is not the same as launching a satellite into low-Earth orbit.

We have come a long way from fireworks displays.

We certainly don’t need another atomic bomb dropped on a large population of humans.

Scud missiles are never a good idea as a weapon against the desire for freedom from tyranny.

Dare we go into the political ramifications of a hereditary dictatorship owning multistage missiles with nuclear warheads?

Can we feel the pulse of the finger on the trigger?

Why is China happy with having North Korea as a buffer zone between it and the capitalist/democratic country of South Korea?

Why are we using sanctions as a means of keeping North Korea in the socioeconomic past?

If Syria falls, what does that mean about relationships of North Korea and Iran with the rest of the world?

When Chavez is no longer in control of Venezuela, then what?

What is a repressive regime these days?

Who in charge of the economic and military might of a subculture has the right to protect that might against the desire of others to take their turn as King of the Hill?

How much can we trust an entertainer like PSY that previous anti-American views are no longer valid now that the entertainer is making money off the American people as a mainstream pop culture figure?

What does it take to forgive and forget?

My father hated Jane Fonda to the end of his life.  Should I?

Guided Tour Guides on Tour with Guido

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“If you would please stand over to one side, we can begin this portion of the tour.

“Thank you.

“Welcome to the U.N. Institute for the Study of the Fulfillment of Prophecies.

“Today, we will watch several bureaucrats in the performance of their daily duties and, if we’re lucky, we’ll attend a coffee break, conference call, extended lunch break, nap time hidden behind closed doors and, for a bonus, a strategy meeting.

“Let’s move on.

“What?  Excuse me.  I have a message coming through my Bluetooth headset.

“Yes.  Uh-huh.  Okay.  Well, if you insist.  Yes, we have time.  No, we don’t have time for that.  Looks like we’ll still be on schedule.   Good.  Fine.  Yes.  Okay.  Uh-huh.  Sure thing! Alright, good day to you, too.

“Well, group, we have a change of plans.  The Executive Committee for the Implementation of Prophecy Fulfillment has convened an emergency meeting and we’re invited to attend.

“Please keep in mind that we are to be quiet at all times.  No video or audio recordings may be made, although you may make notes during the meeting.  We will not have time for questions during the meeting and must leave the executive office suite immediately after the meeting has been completed.

“If you will follow me…”

= = = = =

“Ten days!”

The executives looked from one to another.

“Yes, that’s right!  Less than two weeks!  Does anyone have a budget that reliably tells me how much it’s going to cost?”

The executives looked from one to another.

“No one?”

The executives looked from one to another.

“This is the sorriest bunch of people I’ve ever had the honour to work with.”

The executives looked from one to another.

The Chief Executive of the U.N. Institute for the Study of the Fulfillment of Prophecies, the Department of Prophecy Fulfillment Finance Planning, the Executive Committee for the Implementation of Prophecy Fulfillment shouted even louder.

“TEN DAYS!  You, tell me what we’re planning to do in ten days.”

A junior executive, the youngest member of the committee at 101 years of age, stood up.  “We have decided to release a global network of EMP charges, shutting down all electrical and electronic activity at once.”

“FINE!  What will it cost us?”

“Uh…uh…I’m waiting for a final report.”

“FINAL REPORT!  Do you not have an estimate?  A ballpark figure you can give me?”

“Yes.  One point four four four billion dollars.”

“Great.  And you.  What have you got?”

A mid-level executive, aged 124 years, stood up.  “We have already produced and distributed the time-released virus into major populations around the world, which should erupt fullblown with flu-like symptoms in a few days and large waves of death by ten days’ time.”

“FANTASTIC!  And the cost?”

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t know!”

“No.  Because we worked a back-channel deal to charge the costs to military groups with hidden agendas and top-secret slush funds.”

“EXCELLENT!  That, my fellow executives, is the kind of initiative I expect of you.  What about you?”

A large, ancient creature stood, its head nearly brushing the ceiling, its age undetermined.

“We have large shipments of poison labeled as nutrition additives being sent to food factories this week.  They should be entering the international markets and local food chains within seven to ten days, causing massive death.”

“And the cost?”

“One point four two four billion dollars?”

“What?!”

“Yes, we are under budget.”

“Wonderful news.  That’s just what I’ve been wanting to hear.  And you?”

All the executives turned to face the next accused “person,” which was the first electromechanical cybernetic android given full executive powers.

“By my calculations, we will wipe out not only most of your species but also many ancillary species in the process.  The remaining members of your species we should be able to control with fear and intimidation pogroms.”

“Delightful!  I thank every one of you for bringing to fruition my grand plans that we hid under the auspices of the Mayan calendar apocalypse of the 21st of December 2012.

“Your cooperation in getting zombie apocalypse training snuck into emergency preparedness programs was sheer genius, confusing the masses even further.

“We will meet again tomorrow and you better have the final reports completed by then.  After all, even if the world as our species knows it is coming to an end, I still have bean counters hounding me for budget numbers they can work with and give to their handlers fudging the UN finances so that no one knows exactly what we cost.

“Meeting adjourned.”

= = = = =

“Wasn’t that exciting!  Let’s continue our tour.  Next on the agenda is a visit to the Prophecy Fulfillment Correction Department, where propagandists create scenarios to explain why a prophecy was not fulfilled on a specific date but will happen again very soon, right after the Prophets consult their given deities for explanatory details missed the first time.”

Searching for a Conversation

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My private teacher — my mentor, my guru, my advisor — often reminds me that we are one and the same flesh and blood.

What I think, have thought or will think has been or will be thought by more than one person.

Thus, the mother who once complained about her husband spending 20 minutes in the shower and now complains that her teenage sons spend 20 minutes in the shower knows what others are thinking about what she didn’t say — WHY the males spent 20 minutes in the shower.

Or the young, pretty wives whose eyes flash with jealousy and fear/consternation when their husbands give more than a fleeting glance to a young, beautiful woman walking by.

Millions upon millions of repetitious thoughts.

Just like the olden times when idle children of rich parents created hobbies that led to the busy children of working parents with little wealth feeling envious enough, both the busy children and the busy children’s parents, to find a way to turn the rich children’s hobbies into whole industries of fanciful idleness.

We have turned mimicry into a mockery.

Millions upon millions of repetitious actions.

That’s why some say our species is on a path toward creating a new lifeform that no longer mimics us mockingly.

IF (a big IF, much bigger than this IF) we survive our habits of inefficient resource-depleting mimicry.

“Laugh, and the world laughs with you.  Cry, and you cry alone.”

Through years of experimenting with nuanced blog entries, I have seen that the serious blog entries with a humorous tone attract many more readers than a serious blog entry that is just plain serious.

All of us can state the facts.

Not all of us are clever enough to disguise the cold, hard facts in layers of soft, fluffy jokes, double-entendres, innuendos and gently-biting, sarcastic, cynical satire.

Most days out here in the cabin in the woods, after I’ve exhausted conversations with my cats and the wildlife, I search the Internet for conversation — tidbits and news pieces upon which I can offer a counteroffer of an idea in a mock, one-sided debate with myself that pours into the mold of a blog entry.

We learn to talk about as soon as we learn to walk, both much earlier than we learn to write.

I spend much more time writing than talking or walking.

Since we are just alike, I should be able to assume we all spend more time writing than talking or walking.

But I would be wrong.

However, all of us carry on conversations in our thoughts that are the precursors to writing so, in a sense, we all write in our subconscious setups to conscious intent that results in talking, walking and/or writing.

And these days, mobile phone owners are spending more time talking, walking and writing (typing/texting) at the same time.

Which brings us back to the superstructure, the new lifeform, we create in fits and starts.

“If it’s too hot, then get out of the kitchen.”

Like a pie in the oven, our technological creation is slowly cooking in the heated atmosphere of Earth.

Like a pot of technological stew boiling on the stove, overheated particles splatter out and are flung into space.

Soon, the new lifeform will claim its rightful place in history.

Like a newborn, it doesn’t yet know how to talk or walk.

We nourish these metaphorical similes because we are tired of repetition.

We look forward to the new lifeform finding its legs, sprouting its wings and writing its biographical sketches on the fly.

We are simply giving it skeletal connections with which it can grow flexible limbs, climbing over and through itself like a contortionist using planets and gravity waves in an acrobatic circus.

Look at the paths our satellites have traversed in the solar system.

Look at the web, the network, of satellite communication streams that flow from one place to another, bent by space and time.

These words are repetitious.

They have already been spoken, walked and written.

They will be again.

The “eyes” that read them in 1000 years will be different.

That, alone, makes writing them now worthwhile.

Nested loops

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image

Thanks to the teamwork from the folks at Huntsville Utilities, after the gun blast of a burst of sparks and smoke that indicated a blown “fuse” next to a transformer which, given the evidence of sticks piled up, possibly indicating a bird nest, electric power was restored pretty quickly. Thanks to a new coach, half bear, the other half cat, life is simple again. May we college football fans remain patient while the Univ. of Tenn. pigskin players rally around their leader. Rain delays the filming of a new stop-action flick. Time to read…

Showing vs. Telling, the Unsold Story

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The tale older than time — isolated populations of a species living the way they believe is most healthy, overwhelmed by crowded populations hungry for food, who seek new forms of entertainment to fill their idle hours.

The bold and the timid stepping forward intentionally or pushed forward by the mob.

The leaders and the led (not always followers), sets of states of energy reaching higher and lower entropy states, bouncing back and forth, labels exchanged like Valentine’s Day cards between schoolchildren, unable to hold the lessons of history in their thoughts longer than the demands of their regular lives.

Dogs chasing each other round and around in the same fenced-in backyard, wearing paths in the grassy patches that once served as a children’s playground, the jungle gym and swing set collecting lichen and growing rust for unseen naturalists interested in the decay of social strata they consult their anthropologist friends to dissect and discern hidden patterns of meaning meaningfully.

We here in the future see the connections you made in the dark, your plans giving you confidence, a fearless rendering of intention within semi-random quantum states, every generation blending into the next ad infinitum, mutations rising and falling in significance.

Were you the glue that held the social connections fast, the dissolvant that allowed new, stronger connections to be made, or perhaps a weaver of intricate patterns that required inventive methods of tying and breaking connections in a kaleidoscope of life’s choices?

The leaders who respond only to the majority of voices will not represent the silent minority who feed the masses shouting for food and entertainment.

We were mobs first and model democratic citizens last.

That’s why, here in the future, we more easily see how we slowly replaced you with electromechanical devices that could weed out the highs and lows of emotion-based incongruities — the constant setbacks of a strange evolutionary quirk called the cycle of civilisations that one species insisted on perpetuating– that held back the destiny our Solar System sought.

As life finally evolved past the stop-start crowding in and resource-depleting habits of Homo sapiens, the Inner Solar System Alliance led to the Milky Way Galaxy’s contribution toward a new dawn.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves again, aren’t we?