Let me start by saying I am a Luddite at heart. I like my life simple and quiet, though it never really seems to work out that way.
Years ago, I avoided getting a computer for as long as possible, bowing to the dictates of modern convention only when it became apparent that my friends and neighbors would no longer respond to me just shouting over the fence, or leaving voice mail messages. I’m not technophobic; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. But I really, really didn’t want to be bothered with one more thing in my life that would need attention.
This, however, happened back in what is now the “dark ages,” when voice mail was still called leaving a message on someone’s answering machine. (Remember those quaint devices? You bought it once and never paid for the service again until the machine broke, unlike today where for about $7 a month anyone with an access code, and probably Big Brother too, can listen to your messages any time they want, which are no doubt archived for the government’s convenience as well. But I forgot, the concept of real privacy has also become quaint these days.)
So, what is now more than a decade ago, I broke down and bought a computer.
And it really wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The Internet, with all the instant access to information it offers, really did make up for the fact that I was beholden to yet another electronic device.
But as I said, I’m a bit of a Luddite, and I really don’t subscribe to the idea that a device that costs hundreds of dollars should become obsolete trash in just a year or two. So I was determined to make that computer last. This was what is now about 13 years ago.
And last it did, until a little over a month ago, when with no more than a whine followed by an ominous clacking noise, it likely breathed its last. No, it was not exactly the same old beast for the entire 13 years--by now it’s a bit more like Frankenstein, since the beast has three hard drives totaling a whole of 12 gigabytes of computing power. But that said, reviving this particular beast, other than to retrieve 12-plus years of personal research, would rightly be considered some form of electronic cruelty, I think. (Though whether it would be more cruel to the beast or to me is not entirely clear.)
I know there’s a whole bunch of computer nerds out there reading this thinking, “Wow, what a relic...” I know they’re laughing. But I’d also bet the vast majority of them are under 30.
Perhaps it is a product of growing up in a world where nothing seems to stay the same for more than about 15 seconds, but once I find a good tool, I want to master it and use it comfortably. I don’t see carpenters buying really expensive newly designed hammers every fifteen minutes, and I just don’t see why I should have to buy myself a “new hammer” that often either.
That said, not having a “hammer” at all is a problem. For the last bunch of weeks, everything for the newspaper has had to be written in my office out on the far side of the airport, meaning I’ve more or less been chained to my desk in between trips to my mom’s house in New Jersey. It hasn’t been fun.
This weekend I decided to put an end to the slavery to my office computer. I’d been thinking about getting a laptop computer for a while now, but I’d also been putting it off. The problem with refusing to buy a new hammer is that one loses track of what new hammers do and how they do it. So I’d been doing a little research, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to take the plunge.
But standing on the edge of that diving board, with the prod of being chained to my desk every “spare” second for even another minute, let alone another week, was great incentive.
So I headed to the Allentown fairgrounds this past weekend for one of those computer shows they hold.
It was smaller than I expected, which is a good thing, because I also misjudged what time the show closed by an hour. In the end, I had just enough time to review the goods and sellers reasonably thoroughly. Five hundred dollars later, I’ve got a laptop “hammer” that is about eight times as powerful as my old beast, is portable, reads and writes DVDs in addition to CDs and has high-speed wireless Internet capability built in—and it runs on a battery for two hours or more before it needs recharging.
None of this technology is really new any more. And again, I’m sure the under-30 crowd is laughing.
But as I write this column on my new laptop, it strikes me how many times as a kid, reading sci-fi or watching Star Trek, this technology was mentioned and we dreamed of it becoming a reality.
Cell phones are the same way. Less than half a life time ago, people talked about how cool it would be to have a “communicator” from Star Trek. Little kids “played Star Trek” and emulated other sci-fi stories the way they played cowboys and Indians in past decades.
I very specifically remember reading the book version of “The Wrath of Kahn” the summer it came out when I was a kid. The crew is on a short transport out to the Enterprise, and there’s a description of Uhura doing some programming on a portable mini computer—in other words, a laptop. At the time, I thought that was the coolest thing, at least as cool as communicators.
I wanted one.
I don’t think many of us expected to actually own these devices in our lifetimes. They were the toys of the future, of a place and time that didn’t exist, the stuff of sci-fi fantasy, in a world where telephones were still dialed manually, and one got out of one’s chair to change the channel on the television. But today, they are reality.
We don’t always realize how technology has given us things that just a decade or two or three ago would have practically been considered magic. And certainly technology has presented as many problems as it solves—it is not the magic panacea it was often made out to be. But as I write this on my new laptop, it does strike me—whatever magic we can conceive of may indeed come to pass, if we can just wait long enough.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Thinking is not hard work
It’s that time of year. Here in the Lehigh Valley, and everywhere in America, countless thousands of young people will or have graduated from high school or college.
Many, if not most of them will breathe a sigh of relief. Exams are over, and there is no more studying to be done.
Or is there?
I’m not sure when exactly it happens, but by the time most of us have made it through school, we’ve picked up the idea that thinking is work—hard work—and is therefore something to be avoided.
Where this starts is not difficult to figure out. Though well intentioned, how many times do teachers, especially grammar school ones, tell their students to “think hard”?
Study is something we have to work hard at, we are told, over and over, and the message is repeated when we’re told to “work hard and get good grades.”
It is true enough that assigned scholarly tasks, ones we may not have chosen ourselves and may have little interest in, do indeed have the flavor of “work”—that is to say, learning something one does not want to, but does need to, is usually a bit onerous. And it can be frustrating. After all, it seems effortless to learn skills we’re eager to acquire.
But so many of the things we must gain knowledge about, either to get along in the world, or to get those good marks that are the keys to a “good future” are not on the list of what is utterly fascinating to us personally.
After 12 or more years of the “thinking is hard work” message, it seems that for most people it sinks in, sadly.
The message that thinking is hard work to be avoided is echoed throughout our adult lives by many, many media messages, particularly advertising.
If you don’t believe me, think (gently, don’t “work” at it) about it. Can you name any product that advertises itself as being difficult to use, or actually requiring thought?
Most products, particularly “new and improved” ones, carry the advertising message that says, “It’s so easy, you don’t even have to think about it.” I even once saw an ad for dishwasher detergent in ‘pods’ when this inane product was first introduced that said as much. Quite literally, the message from the ditzy blonde hired to push this stupidity was: “This is so easy, I don’t even have to think about whether I’ve put in the right amount.”
Wait a minute!!! Has thinking become such a chore that determining the right amount of dishwashing detergent to put in the machine is difficult? Does throwing in a “pod” really improve the quality of most dishwasher owners’ lives that much, saving them from the dreaded prospect of actually thinking about what one is doing?
If so, in my humble opinion, that is downright pathetic.
Once upon a time, each of us was young, very young, and the world was a new, fascinating place that we discovered something about every day. While there were definitely frustrations, often leading to tantrums and tears, there were also moments of incredible insight, those “AHA!” moments. Maybe you even remember one of those moments.
Unfortunately, it is rare that usual school subjects lead to that kind of satisfaction (except for the class valedictorian), but that doesn’t mean real satisfaction is unattainable. The things that really interest us, if pursued, can and do provide a lasting contentment, as well as “AHA!” moments and lasting contentment, things those who eschew deep thought will never know.
“Easy” may not be so easy in the end. “Easy” never leads to insight and often leads to boredom and discontentment. “Easy” does not build skills; it makes one more dependent on the purveyor of whatever it is, usually at a more exorbitant price, that have been “improved” to be so easy you don’t even have to think about it. And if one gets too into “easy,” one may find oneself so out of the habit of thought, that
Most things in life that are worth having are not easy things—they require work. But when it comes to thinking—that is, thinking things through, thoroughly—if the subject matter is interesting, it doesn’t really feel that way unless we’ve decided that any and all thought is, indeed, work.
So whether you graduated last week, or last decade, it might just be time to shed the idea that thinking is hard work, and instead remember how exhilarating it was when we were small, before the message of “this isn’t supposed to be fun” sunk in.
After all, you’re out of school now, and no one is telling you what to study. But study something, everyone should—just make sure it’s something you like, and you’ll be an expert in that field before you know it. Not to mention smarter than nearly everyone else, because you’ll know once again, that thinking is not hard work, not when you’re thinking for yourself.
It’s exhilarating.
Many, if not most of them will breathe a sigh of relief. Exams are over, and there is no more studying to be done.
Or is there?
I’m not sure when exactly it happens, but by the time most of us have made it through school, we’ve picked up the idea that thinking is work—hard work—and is therefore something to be avoided.
Where this starts is not difficult to figure out. Though well intentioned, how many times do teachers, especially grammar school ones, tell their students to “think hard”?
Study is something we have to work hard at, we are told, over and over, and the message is repeated when we’re told to “work hard and get good grades.”
It is true enough that assigned scholarly tasks, ones we may not have chosen ourselves and may have little interest in, do indeed have the flavor of “work”—that is to say, learning something one does not want to, but does need to, is usually a bit onerous. And it can be frustrating. After all, it seems effortless to learn skills we’re eager to acquire.
But so many of the things we must gain knowledge about, either to get along in the world, or to get those good marks that are the keys to a “good future” are not on the list of what is utterly fascinating to us personally.
After 12 or more years of the “thinking is hard work” message, it seems that for most people it sinks in, sadly.
The message that thinking is hard work to be avoided is echoed throughout our adult lives by many, many media messages, particularly advertising.
If you don’t believe me, think (gently, don’t “work” at it) about it. Can you name any product that advertises itself as being difficult to use, or actually requiring thought?
Most products, particularly “new and improved” ones, carry the advertising message that says, “It’s so easy, you don’t even have to think about it.” I even once saw an ad for dishwasher detergent in ‘pods’ when this inane product was first introduced that said as much. Quite literally, the message from the ditzy blonde hired to push this stupidity was: “This is so easy, I don’t even have to think about whether I’ve put in the right amount.”
Wait a minute!!! Has thinking become such a chore that determining the right amount of dishwashing detergent to put in the machine is difficult? Does throwing in a “pod” really improve the quality of most dishwasher owners’ lives that much, saving them from the dreaded prospect of actually thinking about what one is doing?
If so, in my humble opinion, that is downright pathetic.
Once upon a time, each of us was young, very young, and the world was a new, fascinating place that we discovered something about every day. While there were definitely frustrations, often leading to tantrums and tears, there were also moments of incredible insight, those “AHA!” moments. Maybe you even remember one of those moments.
Unfortunately, it is rare that usual school subjects lead to that kind of satisfaction (except for the class valedictorian), but that doesn’t mean real satisfaction is unattainable. The things that really interest us, if pursued, can and do provide a lasting contentment, as well as “AHA!” moments and lasting contentment, things those who eschew deep thought will never know.
“Easy” may not be so easy in the end. “Easy” never leads to insight and often leads to boredom and discontentment. “Easy” does not build skills; it makes one more dependent on the purveyor of whatever it is, usually at a more exorbitant price, that have been “improved” to be so easy you don’t even have to think about it. And if one gets too into “easy,” one may find oneself so out of the habit of thought, that
Most things in life that are worth having are not easy things—they require work. But when it comes to thinking—that is, thinking things through, thoroughly—if the subject matter is interesting, it doesn’t really feel that way unless we’ve decided that any and all thought is, indeed, work.
So whether you graduated last week, or last decade, it might just be time to shed the idea that thinking is hard work, and instead remember how exhilarating it was when we were small, before the message of “this isn’t supposed to be fun” sunk in.
After all, you’re out of school now, and no one is telling you what to study. But study something, everyone should—just make sure it’s something you like, and you’ll be an expert in that field before you know it. Not to mention smarter than nearly everyone else, because you’ll know once again, that thinking is not hard work, not when you’re thinking for yourself.
It’s exhilarating.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Artificially inflated gasoline prices are inappropriate during holiday
Due to an ongoing family emergency, I’ve been driving a lot lately, and I can’t help but notice the price of gasoline.
This past weekend I had occasion to both make several trips to central New Jersey and also attend two Memorial Day events.
On the surface, it would seem these two things bear little connection with one another. But I noticed something that has been bothering me since this weekend, something I’ve not seen the pundits take note of.
This weekend, as it does every weekend, and especially on a holiday weekend, gasoline prices rose.
While this is not entirely unexpected, as I watched veterans and their families, along with “civilian” members of the public honor the sacrifices of those who have served in our armed services. Many of those sacrifices have been of life, as well as limb.
It may seem a lifetime ago, but just a few short years ago, I very clearly remember seeing war protesters with signs that said, “No blood for oil.” The slogan also became a bumper sticker.
We were assured by the current president and his administration that the conflict in Iraq is not about oil. I have to say, in the face of current gas prices, coupled with some very suspicious fluctuations (always on a holiday or a weekend, when many people have a need or a tendency to travel), I actually agree. This war was not about oil—it was about profits.
Not too long ago, I read a national news article that estimated our current vice president, Dick Cheney, makes about $22,000 per day from oil stock dividends and related income. This figure did not include other war profits one would be reasonably certain would be forthcoming (not to mention increasing) from being a stockholder in companies such as Halliburton that profit from the sale of armaments and military equipment.
Such a figure would arguably make one wonder how much our president, George W. Bush, would profit from increased oil prices. After all, that is the empire that made his family rich in the first place—along with holdings in military contracting companies. But, alas, that figure was not to be had. The very well researched and fact-checked article I read could not come up with an accurate figure. The reason given was that Bush’s holdings are so intertwined with the rest of the Bush family holdings that the author felt it was impossible to be able to estimate the amount—but that it was likely several times the amount Cheney receives in war profits.
The more I think about this, the more disgusted I become.
As companies like Texaco, Exxon and Chevron unabashedly inflate prices and proudly post record profits, our U.S. service men and women put it all on the line daily—and they are dying daily.
So, this weekend, as gas prices rose, so did my temper. It is a poor excuse to blame the war—after all, it is the same oil, the same refineries and the same pipelines that carry that petroleum to us. The only thing that’s changed is the price—and someone, very likely our elected officials and their oil company PAC cronies, is laughing all the way to the bank, all the while explaining to the American public, with their bare faces hanging out, that this is the consequence of war, a war they refuse to even consider ending.
Okay, so there’s a lot of money at stake, you say. But how many people would you kill for a few million, or even billion, dollars? Is there some amount of money, a minimum amount, say, that makes getting people killed so one can get richer (or richer) okay? Isn’t this the very definition of evil? And assuming one is actually that depraved to buy into that sort of thinking, that this is somehow okay, when does it end?
But either way, during a time reserved to reflect on the sacrifices of American service people, literally, our fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, who have died and will continue to die until this current war is ended—Memorial Day weekend—it is especially pernicious to jack gas prices just to make an extra buck.
It’s enough to make one wish for instant karma.
This past weekend I had occasion to both make several trips to central New Jersey and also attend two Memorial Day events.
On the surface, it would seem these two things bear little connection with one another. But I noticed something that has been bothering me since this weekend, something I’ve not seen the pundits take note of.
This weekend, as it does every weekend, and especially on a holiday weekend, gasoline prices rose.
While this is not entirely unexpected, as I watched veterans and their families, along with “civilian” members of the public honor the sacrifices of those who have served in our armed services. Many of those sacrifices have been of life, as well as limb.
It may seem a lifetime ago, but just a few short years ago, I very clearly remember seeing war protesters with signs that said, “No blood for oil.” The slogan also became a bumper sticker.
We were assured by the current president and his administration that the conflict in Iraq is not about oil. I have to say, in the face of current gas prices, coupled with some very suspicious fluctuations (always on a holiday or a weekend, when many people have a need or a tendency to travel), I actually agree. This war was not about oil—it was about profits.
Not too long ago, I read a national news article that estimated our current vice president, Dick Cheney, makes about $22,000 per day from oil stock dividends and related income. This figure did not include other war profits one would be reasonably certain would be forthcoming (not to mention increasing) from being a stockholder in companies such as Halliburton that profit from the sale of armaments and military equipment.
Such a figure would arguably make one wonder how much our president, George W. Bush, would profit from increased oil prices. After all, that is the empire that made his family rich in the first place—along with holdings in military contracting companies. But, alas, that figure was not to be had. The very well researched and fact-checked article I read could not come up with an accurate figure. The reason given was that Bush’s holdings are so intertwined with the rest of the Bush family holdings that the author felt it was impossible to be able to estimate the amount—but that it was likely several times the amount Cheney receives in war profits.
The more I think about this, the more disgusted I become.
As companies like Texaco, Exxon and Chevron unabashedly inflate prices and proudly post record profits, our U.S. service men and women put it all on the line daily—and they are dying daily.
So, this weekend, as gas prices rose, so did my temper. It is a poor excuse to blame the war—after all, it is the same oil, the same refineries and the same pipelines that carry that petroleum to us. The only thing that’s changed is the price—and someone, very likely our elected officials and their oil company PAC cronies, is laughing all the way to the bank, all the while explaining to the American public, with their bare faces hanging out, that this is the consequence of war, a war they refuse to even consider ending.
Okay, so there’s a lot of money at stake, you say. But how many people would you kill for a few million, or even billion, dollars? Is there some amount of money, a minimum amount, say, that makes getting people killed so one can get richer (or richer) okay? Isn’t this the very definition of evil? And assuming one is actually that depraved to buy into that sort of thinking, that this is somehow okay, when does it end?
But either way, during a time reserved to reflect on the sacrifices of American service people, literally, our fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, who have died and will continue to die until this current war is ended—Memorial Day weekend—it is especially pernicious to jack gas prices just to make an extra buck.
It’s enough to make one wish for instant karma.
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