A million gigs is what the human brain has. And yet we give ourselves over to these paltry computers with their one hundred gigs or even worse some GPS that is barely functioning with the slowed time of civilian map questing. It is amazing that we always assume computers know better when many times they steer us wrong. How many times have you ended up in some cornfield looking for that festival that was supposed to be right there but the computer mixed up Canal Street with Canal Avenue. It happens.
Or just in our day to day. My son spilled some paint and I told him he had to clean it up. He googled how to clean paint off a cement floor thinking the answer lay there. When the answer didn't come he looked at me and I said well how would you clean it up. The blank stare. Making it up as you go is not a logarithm he is familiar with. Finally though some experimentation with shovels and drop cloths and gasoline he cleaned it up.
But we give ourselves over too easily to the plastic machine. I saw a man whose job was to hold up a placard saying five dollar special to join a health club. He had his sign under his arm and his phone up looking for that next text or email to bail him out of the fact he was working for less than minimum wage by the highway. Sadly, he should know his salvation is not in the little device in his hand that a million other people hold looking for the same answers.
It is in his head. In that million gigabytes God gave him. The only real super computer.
www.williamhazelgrove.com
The PItcher...Sometimes a Dream is all you have
Or just in our day to day. My son spilled some paint and I told him he had to clean it up. He googled how to clean paint off a cement floor thinking the answer lay there. When the answer didn't come he looked at me and I said well how would you clean it up. The blank stare. Making it up as you go is not a logarithm he is familiar with. Finally though some experimentation with shovels and drop cloths and gasoline he cleaned it up.
But we give ourselves over too easily to the plastic machine. I saw a man whose job was to hold up a placard saying five dollar special to join a health club. He had his sign under his arm and his phone up looking for that next text or email to bail him out of the fact he was working for less than minimum wage by the highway. Sadly, he should know his salvation is not in the little device in his hand that a million other people hold looking for the same answers.
It is in his head. In that million gigabytes God gave him. The only real super computer.
www.williamhazelgrove.com
The PItcher...Sometimes a Dream is all you have
