Posts Tagged ‘future

20
Sep
19

I’m Sick of These M-F’n Tools Saving Every Species on the Planet!

***

That was my weak attempt at sounding like Samuel L. Jackson in that infamous movie about snakes on a plane.

But, let’s talk about a bigger tool.

Common, you’re such a tool. Those AI ads he keeps doing…just rub me the wrong way for some inexplicable reason. And, the latest one really struck a sour note.

One more pitch to save some “endangered” species.

I’ve got nothing against respect for nature and being concerned about all life on the planet. But, if nature decides to eliminate any species, we need not be responsible.

Do you understand what I am saying?

Nature decides what species will live, what new species will join the rest and which will become extinct.

As much as humans like to play god, and as much as Americans like to boast being the best at everything these days, we humans are responsible for the crimes we commit against nature as well as how much we are willing to treat it right. We are capable of maintaining the planet better than any other species. But, we cannot be the overprotective parents, especially when our energy and resources are needed to save ourselves from our own mistakes and from nature’s harsh backlash, probably for the crimes we’ve committed and thus are rightfully doomed to face.

If someone is pitching an AI solution to keep every species known on the planet alive and thriving, isn’t that a bit silly?

For one reason, what happens if, among all of the preserved species, new ones appear in small numbers? Well, we have to protect those, too. And, the next group? Yep. Them, too. Before long, we have a planet swallowed up in lifeforms without adequate resources to sustain them all, sort of like the junk lady in that 1980s Labyrinth movie piling stuff up on Sarah’s back.

[If I may be so blunt, are we just preserving these species because they make pretty photographs for some wildlife magazine you want to print on excess glossy paper which is just going to end up in a landfill when the multitude of shrinking attention spans cast them aside like yesterday’s hot topic?]

Ya know why the big ol’ dinosaurs went extinct? It wasn’t just some massive rock from deep space that created a sinkhole in the planet and devastated the climate. It was a population boom that couldn’t be supported by available resources. And, nature took them out, replacing them with a wide assortment of lifeforms, including us, sort of like an American football team replacing its most expensive player with a few cheaper ones to fill some holes in the defensive line. Now, we are the dinosaurs. And, if we don’t get a grip on our actions……..

Secondly, the planet will be overrun with technological gizmos, not just those keeping watch on every animal like some high-tech spies for some company surely getting something out of this access to what is probably some privacy nature did not intend us humans to take.

Those gizmos will require maintenance and resources we must provide, further depleting our time and resources which could be applied to means capable of preserving all life, not just one rare species at a time, invading the privacy of nesting and other rituals. And, just as your personal computer-phone puts out enough “heat” to fry an egg or your ear, and just as cellphone towers and electrical towers in general put out invisible radiation which impacts all life around them in negative ways, those flying and roving gizmos sent with the supposed intent of protecting all of these other species are sure to put out something that could very well be harmful to something if not everything in its path, because when have humans been known to create anything perfectly clean and safe? Mmm…never? At least, it seems everything we’ve made has had some negative output in the news.

[Can you imagine some drone appearing outside your bathroom, claiming it’s just making sure you’re still alive while you stand there naked about to take a shower? How long before that becomes so annoying that you change your washing habits and/or your whole daily routine, ultimately impacting your life expectancy? And, what if that supervising drone puts out some kind of radiation to scan your home and detect your body heat or some other signature? More invisible rays passing through your body and everything you hold dear, possibly invading your sleep cycle, causing you to wake with the feeling something weird was buzzing in your ear like a mosquito, a species we certainly do not need to preserve unless we are using them as weapons…and that is dangerous talk.]

[What if it doesn’t stop at drones? What if we get tags like all those species humans tag to track their numbers? That, too, is a human habit I find repulsive. Yet, we spend enough energy doing just that while water supplies and other resources continue to become hazards to us all. Would you want to walk around with some colorful plastic tab clipped to your ear or neck or ankle for the rest of your life? Maybe if your the sort who likes tattoos and/or piercings. But, not me.]

We are as responsible for upsetting the environments of all these other species as we are preserving them. But, two wrongs don’t make a right. And, yes, in a way, boxing every life form into some kind of human protection system isn’t right.

I know it’s a bigger and more vague goal to correct the other wrongs we have done to the planet, but that’s the homework we need to get done. Not being the policing, over-protective parents of the planet’s population.

If the world loses its snow leopards, it will go on. But, if the world loses its clean water supply or safe atmosphere, more than the snow leopards will suffer; all species will suffer. If one more human tribe puts its faith in nuclear power as a resource, more than a few snow leopards will suffer for a longer time than any human petition mob can survive to protect those snow leopards.

If you spend your time and resources sending machines to watch over some small cluster of one or two species instead of cleaning up the environment or protecting all life in a particular area you can manage, your effort is futile. If you are in a desert and give all of your water to a lone lizard you think is the only one of its kind, you will die in that desert before you learn that the lizard will be just fine on its own.

And, if no one bothers to read this, if it doesn’t make an impact on improving the way we humans treat the planet, then it was a waste of my time, energy and technology. All of which could have been saved had I not bothered to turn on the TV and see the man, calling himself Common, in one more lame commercial.

 

 

Advertisements
16
Sep
19

A Fatal Choice -Which Do You Choose?-

***

Let’s say you enter this life and have two choices of how to live.

A) You survive until you are 60 to 110 years old but are doomed to die from a plague sweeping the planet which ultimately touches nearly every person like mold on pumpkins. Your life expectancy is a blend of genetics and whatever man-made products you put into yourself which keep you going as long as you can…as well as bringing you down in the end.

B) You sign a contract or invest in the necessary equipment (sort of like paying for college and all that goes with it to get a degree) to transfer your “doomed” human identity into a machine supplied by a monopolizing company already spreading its financial cloak of dominance over the planet. However many years and however you live those years as a human being are inconsequential; as you will join the collective hive/mind of billions of other robots who bought into this “life insurance plan.”

Which would you choose?

Or, do the prospects of both make you wish you were never born?

[More on that philosophy in a near-future post.]

Just answer the question. Don’t LIKE or star this for later and forget about it or pass it on. And, if it’s not too much trouble, explain your answer/decision; what makes you choose that path?

18
Apr
18

Too Many Offices Behind the Screen?

****

Everything is going internet and APP these days.  Or, so it seems.  No one wants to do anything face-to-face, anymore.  Where do you think that will lead?  And, what kind of faith do we have to have to trust those we cannot even see?

I mean, we might chance the occasional online shopping to get something that isn’t available in the local store.  But, if it’s near home, can’t we sum up the courage and resources to go get it?  [Not if we’re going to support drone service, download the app for everything and do what when something goes wrong?  Who are you going to call for help?  Some Uber android service representative?  Some remote control repair person?]

What gets me going on this tangent today?  Well, I’m noticing sooooo many bloggers writing advice columns for just about everything.  They take up probably 2/3 of this blog site, leaving the other 1/3 to personal tales and soooooooooooooooooo many poems.  Oh, and a few artists’ simplest of works.  Look, I drew a pencil.  LIKE it.  And, random photos from people looking to scrapbook life.

I get to thinking…who takes this advice seriously?  Who reads all of this stuff?  And, how do you trust some advisor you never met?  Are you going to consult a doctor who never touches your body or witnesses what you are suffering?   You prefer self-diagnosis and assumption?  [And, what of the advisor who isn’t even legitimately advising but leading you on to some linked sham?]

I forget that’s what we’ve been doing for a long time with tabloid TV shows and magazines featuring countless ads for pills, cigarettes, ridiculously expensive cars and watches, etc.  Magazines are known for this sort of thing.  So many articles and cover blurbs about how to do this and that better than you probably know yourself.  Why ask someone you know when you can read about it from a complete stranger?

Except, with good ol’ magazines and TV, there was nothing to open or click on to give you trouble.  You slowed your life down to read or watch.  You didn’t invite “malware” to shut down your TV or fingers.

Whatever happened to “word of mouth” or consulting your neighbor?

So, what am I achieving by writing out these thoughts?  I dunno.  Who really cares.  You’ve got more important things to do, see and read.  Like all those advice columns.  This isn’t exactly one of them.  But, it might sound like one.  And, while I know I am a genuine heart and soul writing these words, I realize you only know the text on the screen.  Everything else you feel is your imagination (and, maybe, gut feeling if you’re lucky).

 

 

09
Jan
17

Argh! What and Where Is That Beer Commercial?!

****

It’s in my head, again.  An old beer commercial.  I thought it was Budweiser.  But, now I am thinking it’s Miller Lite.  CAN ANYONE HELP ME FIND THIS?!

Okay, so the commercial starts with a couple at a bar/club in the 50s or 60s.  As they get up and dance, their outfits change to meet the disco era/70s.  And, the longer they dance, the more time periods they pass through until the pitch line and a scene of the future in which the woman has a necklace that is floating around her neck like orbiting asteroids.  I’m pretty sure the phrase, “I like it like that,” is repeated a few times during the ad, which seems to fit Miller Lite.

Name and locate this ad!  Please.  So I can relieve the nagging pulse in my head.  [I even tried to record this ad once back when I still used a VCR.]  I’d peg it as somewhere between 1992 and 1998.  But, I could be off.

24
Nov
16

The Future of Black Friday?

*****

Imagine if you will…

The future of Black Friday in a world of internet shopping…

Just wait. It could all turn around. But, instead of people fighting in the stores, they’ll fume and fight over internet/web site crashes. They’ll keep the foreign hotline operators busy with complaints about internet service. The operators will offer them fake sympathy and minor discounts to keep them plugged in yet mildly happier.

After all, do you think families will get any closer the more they push fast computerized everything from radio speakers to watches?

No.  This is like driving cattle.  Retail and outlet stores drove people for decades to chase their sales.  Now, as so many stores give up and move resources online, the stampede route shifts in a slightly different direction (until the next big movement in sales appears on the horizon…if there is a horizon left).

Maybe someday, all the lonely people of the world will surround themselves with AI families, their phone, clock, TV, etc. It will be like Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, except all the characters will be digitized voices and flashing lights.

Amazon.com is putting all of your shopping money into dominating Mars and consuming the global economy. But, go ahead and feed the beast, a beast not unlike Wal-Mart type stores trying to house everything and run all hours of the day. Soon, Wal-Mart will create its own extinction event, and online empires like Amazon will stand out like skyscrapers…skyscrapers no one will see because all they know are numbers, words, video clips and flashing icons on digital screens.  Unless people get wise to some kind of reading/writing and math Apps, I fear even being able to read a label or balance a bank account could become a challenge.

I think Black Friday can be a fun time for a small family/group if they keep a positive attitude and camp together. But, more often, bargain hunters turn around to make a profit off their “hot items” or get really cruel and competitive about the hunt as if their life will be empty without the sale item. If you’re not on your A game, you tend to feel like a squirrel in rush hour traffic. If you’re not with a happy group that doesn’t care if they get every sale item or any sale item and just enjoys shopping together…don’t go.

—–

[I was just inspired to write more about Black Friday, the USA way to spoil a family holiday with thoughts of bargain hunting amid mad crowds of careless people who will trample each other and suffer buyer’s remorse, later.  ‘Amazing what glancing over blog posts will do.]

 

28
Apr
14

Blogging at Homes in the 21st Century

If you’re just joining the rest of the world in its present state, welcome to the modern world of sharing one’s thoughts via computer in the 21st century. I’m not exactly Mr. Popular. My online postings are typically spontaneous criticisms/philosophies and personal reflections. ‘Not recipes, advice columns, diet or travel journals, religious passages, school calendars, video links or art galleries (which are apparently far more common and popular). So, when I find someone new “following” my blips in the “social media” universe, I have to wonder what made something I shared so interesting.

Most of the time, these “followers” say nothing. And, more often than not, they come with these unusual corporate identities involving everything from hair care to home construction to pharmaceuticals. I suspect this is due to the addition of what we now call “tags” to my posts, or blog/journal entries. A key word might send a signal to some company’s radar system which then sends a team of robots or specialists (PC zombies swiveling mindlessly in their chairs while fumbling with something between their fingers) into action.

As it turns out, that’s just what happened to me recently. And, here’s that story:

It was a mild April afternoon when I felt compelled to pass along a few thousand words about my distrust of modern medicine and disgust with all the commercials rambling about terrifying side-effects (which are necessary to know in advance though they should neither exist nor make people their lab rats). The following afternoon, I discovered a young man with a shaved head and sunglasses–going by the name Barry Swan Pharmaceuticals–“following” my blog. “Well, that’s…interesting,” I muttered before taking a moment to fetch some lunch.

Just as I closed the fridge, I heard a knock at the front door. A stranger–faintly resembling the young man in the picture (with a fuller head of dark brown hair and more flesh in his cheeks)–stood outside in a midnight blue suit (a “twinge” lighter than black in the daylight). I hesitated to answer, fearing all sorts of uncomfortable chats I might end up having. As I withdrew, he knocked, again, stalling me in my tracks. I proceeded to the kitchen where I then heard a loud “clang” or “clap” and jumped back to find the front door ajar. The unknown man remained silent but now visibly restless on the other side. I took a deep breath and confronted the uninvited guest to my doorstep. “Uh. Hi. What can–what is it you wanted?”

Adjusting the clipboard in his pale, waxy hands, the man began, “Mr. (Writingbolt)? I’m here to talk to you about a convenient medical supply service we just recently started and why you should sign up–for a nominal fee–to have any prescriptions you might need right to your doorstep.”

“I-I’m sor– I don’t– I’m not a retiree avoiding nursing homes like the plague.” I clasped my left hand around the outer edge of the door and eased it ahead of the adjacent shoulder. “I’m not even in my forties, yet. Isn’t that what you guys always ask about in your commercials? Being over forty?”

“Mr. (Writingbolt), we’re not so concerned with your age at this moment. The entire nation is getting on board with the new medical insurance system. We’d just like your signature so we can proceed with adding you to our database of potential customers. And, then I’ll be out of your hair. By the way, we sell products for improving the quality and quantity of your hair, too, if you’re interested.”

“Yeah…no thanks. Sorry. Some other time, perhaps.” I don’t know why I even bothered to use such courtesy. As I shut the inner door in his face, I saw him raise an index finger and felt a cold wave of air rush up along my neck and the back of my hand. I didn’t give the whole scene a second thought. [At least, not for the next few minutes.]

Weeks rolled by, and I continued to find new and questionable faces (and some icons instead of faces) tracing my online activity. It’s not the first time such oddities have carried over into my e-mail (electronic mail) box. I’m not surprised (anymore) to find ads for male enhancements and the like though I am grateful most of these get automatically swept into what’s known as the junk folder.

Then, one evening, I thought I saw a car drive by the house with a curious shift in speed. Its headlights slowed to a crawl and then zipped out of sight with an unusual engine sound. Poking my nose through the sheer curtains, I looked for some trace glow of a tail light. All I could see were the amber glows of the aging streetlights and a reflection cast by the table lamp at my back. I lingered for a while, waiting to see if some wild animal might surprise me. [It’s not uncommon for a deer, goose or fox to cross the front lawn.]

Just as I was about to give up my vigil, a searchlight stream cut across my left shoulder. Shielding my eyes, I let go of the curtains and moved toward the table lamp. When my vision cleared, I squinted through the veil and noticed a dark object–roughly the size of a small charcoal grill–hovering outside the window. Another crossed behind the first and curved over the roof. I was only able to make out the shape because the bright beacon had been dimmed. And, now, I could see a small red “eye” glaring at me near the UFO’s base. [Except, this UFO was not from some other planet. It was a “domestic” disturbance of my peace.]

The moment I lowered my guard, the “drone” buzzed back a few feet and began peppering the windows with gunfire. Running down an adjacent corridor to my master bedroom, I noticed one of these flying probes scanning the items laid out on my dresser. A little alarm went off, and the drone paused its data collection to turn its targeting sensors onto me.

Before another window could be shattered, I turned and ducked into the nearest bathroom where no natural light could enter. Here I thought I’d be safe for a moment, at least. I expected to hear police sirens if anyone reported the sounds of gunfire like good neighbors. But, as I counted the beats of my heart, the lagging silence became unnerving. Eventually, I rose from my crouched position beside the toilet and tiptoed back to the picture window where my hands shook as I cautiously fingered the finely cut bullet holes. [Luckily, I had come away from the incident without a scratch.]

I sat down with a book of crossword puzzles and a cup of hot…beverage…for a half-hour before I finally heard a police car easing down my street. The mustached officer waited for me at the front door, and, this time, I didn’t hesitate to answer. But, the questions he proceeded to ask became increasingly uncomfortable. After getting a detailed description of the drone activity, the policeman inquired about my medical insurance plan. At that moment, I decided to cut the interrogation short and excuse myself to take a leak. Officer Ginsborough…or Gingerpecker…told me to watch what I “go around discussing” whether or not I do it online. Then he folded his notepad, settled for a courteous “goodnight” and returned to his station. [Suffice to say, sleep did not come easy neither that night nor any night the following week. It took me two weeks just to get the picture window replaced and two more to afford the bill.]

The next time I had the irrepressible urge to vent my frustrations online, a few days passed before I had another uninvited drone party outside my home. I could barely utter my disapproval before more gunfire sent me diving for protection. This time, they brought some sort of saw and began cutting away a portion of the roof. A brief “whomp”–followed by faint footsteps–sprang from the back door, tugging at my left ear. I felt the warmth from a pair of searchlights before a foreign pair of delicate hands shoved me aside.

Catching a glimpse of curling brown strands–burning red-orange in the path of the probing beacons–I couldn’t focus on the woman’s face as she huffed, “Stay with me if you want to live.”

[And, if you’ve seen your share of sci-fi/action films, you probably can guess how the rest of this story goes. I’ll leave it to your imagination as I remind all of you in the land of blog to be mindful of what you make public from the comfort and convenience of your personal (or office) computers. Those “drones”…they’re practically everywhere. You keep your eyes open and your mouth shut if you know what’s good for ya. But, if you’re going to “follow” or “like” someone’s post, be sure to leave a personalized comment, discussing your interest in the matter. Otherwise, you–and especially I–may never know what’s lurking in the digital shadows.]

 

 

~Writingbolt, 4-25-2014

25
Feb
14

It’s So Sad When You Don’t Know Where to Turn

It’s nothing new, but, upon either going to bed last night or waking this morning, I had a low moment.  And, in this moment, I pondered the weight of discomfort from not having someone with whom I can feel completely comfortable and share my deepest thoughts in the same living space.

Now, for those of you with your heads wired to some digital gizmo like a PC or–more likely these days–a “pad” or “smart phone”, don’t get your brain coils in a pinch.  For some if not most of you, this space right here is where you turn to divulge your deepest thoughts.  This is your breathing room, your therapist couch, your venting space.  You probably have more (Fbook) friends than those you can actually pat on the back and visit with when you’re blue.  For you, this may be a living space.  But, not for me.  This is almost the equivalent of talking to someone through a styro-foam cup phone.  ‘Don’t know what that is?  Look it up.

While it may seem like I am venting, I am but scratching the surface of my brewing, stewing emotions, my volcano of internal conflict that cannot decide which way is up and who to trust.  When you can’t trust your own family and don’t have at least one friend you can sit down with for more than an hour a week, you may find yourself “spinning tires” and wondering what really is right from wrong.  Often I question myself along similar lines.

[I may have written some of this before.]  In my youth, I thought I was always doing right.  At least, I did my best to be good and make my parents proud.  But, beyond my consciousness, there were those who kept pointing at me and telling me what I did wrong.  And, no matter how I tried to remedy the situation, I couldn’t get it right.  Was I simply disobeying instructions?  Was I a rebellious child who needed to be disciplined?  I didn’t think so then.  And, I’d like to think there was/is more to it even now.  But, something denied and occasionally continues to deny me the right to be right in the eyes of others.

Starting probably in high school, I began to distrust people and shed my optimistic naivete.  I began to realize reputations were often lies cooked up to make/demand more money.  I stopped buying into brand names and started scrambling to find my own unique path.  Pretty soon, it seemed no one was left to trust.  Nearly everyone used the same words (I didn’t like) and didn’t seem to care if what they did or said upset me.  Some even snickered and chided me for reacting defensively.  I wasn’t about to trust people who snickered at me when I was upset. 
It’s probably gotten worse over time, the nagging question of trust.  What (commercials) do I believe and which do I just brush aside?  Who’s selling a scam, and who’s trying to offer genuine help?  [I know I’ve made my share of stupid financial decisions, already.  And, I don’t want to continue the trend.]

On top of all this, the judgement of others has influenced MY judgement of others.  I am fairly certain being critiqued and questioned much–if not most–of my life has made me a judge/critic o others.  It’s like carbon dioxide spewing from my mouth.  I don’t consciously take pleasure in it.  But, it happens like breathing.  And, only with aging and deep reflection do I comprehend the reactions of many I meet.  I wouldn’t be too comfortable around someone critiquing my decisions/choices every day.  If they don’t accept me as I am, I know I’ll be on guard/defensive.  However, I think I am possibly more tolerant than some I meet who are quick to turn silent and distance themselves.  I think.

I went through elementary school with a handful of those I’d call friends.  I was lucky if two stuck by me for more than two years.  One did stand by me for nearly ten years before we lost touch.  I went through high school lucky if I had one friend who stood by me for a year.  Every following year, it seemed people changed, and I once more found myself grasping for a life preserver.  As I got out of school and into the working world, making friends became even harder.  There might not have been as much gossip going around, but it was (and has been) difficult to socialize with anyone without some supervisor/boss finding fault with this.  Take it outside of work?  I’d sure like to do that.  But, I can’t seem to find the right words to convince anyone to try it.  No, I was lucky if I could talk at work.  Anything more was cutting into their time with other people.  Or, I didn’t/don’t fit their “circle” (age group).

So, here I sit, with a number of tasks stacked on my “to do” list and little to no “stamina” to see them through “simply” because I feel the need to have some…support (sort of like a small child counting on their parent/s to be there for them) and/or companionship.  And, every day I don’t tackle one of those items, I feel guilty.  I feel lousy.  I endure tension in my body which clamps a vice on my elbow and tightens my breath.  I look around me and tremble, wondering who I should chance speaking with about what’s bothering me.

Then, I look at the computer and think back to all the years I already spent on the thing hoping to make better connections with people far from home.  On top of paying an internet service bill, my eyes have paid for my time here.  And, what do I have to show for it?  Some foggy, bittersweet memories of people who would mean nothing to those I deal with on a daily basis face-to-face. 

I listen to/read/watch the local news and try not to absorb all of the negative, frightful and discouraging crap that goes on here and in other parts of the world.  [I don’t enjoy it but need to stay informed lest I be completely unaware when some important stranger knocks at my door over something I missed.  It’s better (for me) than trying to scan a tiny screen flooding my hands with battery “heat” and wireless transmissions and waiting for my eyes to cross.]

I worry–one of these days–someone is going to come along and pack my life up in a heap or stack of boxes, leaving what’s left of me in the dust with no redeeming sense of satisfaction.  I worry I’m either going to end up homeless, starving and mad…or locked away somewhere because I failed to follow some procedure which was intended to create order even though it upset my soul and the souls of so many others I may encounter.  I worry what the future may bring as stupid humans chase their whims with little to no respect for who is involved/affected by them.  It’s like watching two infants fight over a toy.

Part of me hopes everything will work out for the best (including my best), and that all my worries will be smoothed out by reassurances I simply had to age to find.  Another part of me anticipates some drastic disaster (or prolonged waste of time and resources) that will turn this world into one of those futuristic, dystopian movie settings with robots running amok and people fighting in filthy streets for the last scrap of food or clean water.  If you want my opinion on the possibilities of alien life/worlds and making contact with them, I’d say the aliens should–and probably do–keep their distance until Earth straightens itself out (unless they have the strategy/means humans fail continually to find/establish, the ideal road to mutually beneficial compromise and teamwork without competition over money and/or land).  Otherwise, they risk becoming the next batch of slaves (by feeding human greed) or starting another senseless war (by being viewed as a threat).  Just like those who get divorced struggle (well, some struggle while others jump right into another hot mess) to shed the baggage of the past and start anew, I am not sure the aliens could presently handle Earth’s baggage if they hope(d) to start a friendship.

Some of you out there (here) might come from “broken families” and find it “easy” to take command of your own lives…because you “have to” to survive.  You might not like it, but you see no other alternative to calling hotlines and consulting complete strangers for assistance.  But, for me, growing up with the confusion I did and feeling burned by those I “had to” trust early on, it’s excruciating (like an elderly person who can no longer stand with ease trying to go to the bathroom alone) for me to take those chances.  I don’t multi-task well.  I forget things and miss details when something unexpected suddenly overwhelms and preoccupies my mind.  I fight the forces that drive others to suicide almost daily.  [But, in the end, I may have no choice.  Yet, people say, “There’s always a choice.”  And, I wonder…]




Archives

Advertisements