Some Things Can Never Be Virtualized
I wandered my way down a muddy road through the woods today. I walked in the Rhode Island rain with my dogs at my side.
After a 1/4 mile or so, the trees thinned and turned to evergreens. My dogs looked at me and wagged their tails. They took off into the clearing and ran between the rows of Christmas trees. They were as happy as I have ever seen them.
We picked a tree, my wife and I, and after a few quick passes with a bow saw it fell. The dogs jumped and ran and wagged and barked and panted and pawed and rolled on the ground.
The tree came home and the lights went up. It’s glittering in my living room, and the dogs are asleep in front of the fireplace. I made a grand dinner, and enjoyed a fantastic red wine. There is a movie on, and my wife is knitting on the couch.
Other than the millions of bits of data that are whipping through the air via my wireless card as I write this, there has been very little technology in my life today.
Actually, the only piece of technology I have worked with today is a favorite of mine. It’s an incredibly advanced unit that makes its appearance in my house only once a year. It is precision crafted by complex moulders and extrusion machines, and is brimming with circuitry and I/O interfaces. It is extremely green, using very little power, but does have redundant connections to the grid.
It’s a Christmas ornament that my wife bought for us. It’s a hen house full of plastic chickens that sing in Jingle Bells in chicken language when you push a button.
[Jingle Bells music]
BAWK BAWK BAAAWK
BAWK BAWK BAAAWK
BAWK BAWK BAWK BAWK BAAAWK !!!!