It’s that the only logical companions on a journey to the center of the Earth are “science enthusiast will.i.am and actor/producer Seth Green.”
Obviously.
Science enthusiast? It’s like “I can totally do your apendectomy. I mean I’m not a doctor, but I DVR a lot of Health Channel.” Plus, if we don’t get a remake of Space Camp out of this, I call shenanigans.
One more reason my mom is awesome. His & Hers matching “Use With Your iPhone” gloves?!
That says love. And warm hands while texting.
(They will be tried out this morning biking in through the .078 inches of snow.)
It takes so much charging to leave the house, anymore.
Or rather, it takes so much plugging in to keep everything but our brains connected.
Winners Wear Yellow.
YES and. I maintain I was born at the precisely right moment in technology. I entered 1st grade the same year the library got its new Apple IIe. “Computer time” was spent waiting for the light by the disk drive to go off. “Don’t touch it while the light is on!!!”
I was the first class in high school to take Keyboarding instead of Typing. To this day it remains the only marketable, vocational skill I pulled out of 20 years of formal education.
I got my first email address when I got to college.
Facebook and internet sharing didn’t become an option until I was out of college, living as an adult — and it didn’t become a priority until I worked in professional internet sharing, and was well aware of the consequence.
There are photos from college and other early adult milestones but they are safely emblazoned on, as Mel says, the glossy paper of prudence.
And in a storage shed, in a box marked: MEMORIES/KEEPSAKES/PUPPY/GARAGE.
Right where they should be.
Let us credit Julia Roberts with what should be our National Robot Containment Policy. The motto comes from the great American film, Pretty Woman:
“I say who, I say when.”
The robot creep is stealthy and therein lies the danger. Encroaching by seemingly harmless measures, until one day we wake up, and humans control nothing.
The time to exercise our Julia Roberts is now.
No robot, I do not want you to decide that I’d like to be locked in my car as soon as I get in.
No robot, I do not want you to turn on the faucet if my sleeve accidentally gets too near, nor decide when I’ve had enough water.
NO robot, I do not want you flushing at me indiscriminantly.
NO robot key-card-thing-that-stops-working-at-random-intervals, you are not an improvement over an actual key that requires not power nor chip.
NO ROBOT I do not want you finishing what you think I was going to say.
I’m no Luddite. I welcome machinery — as long as those machines know I am their Lord and Master. Complete control is the only way to stop the power grab. Think I’m crazy? How’s that misogynistic robot personal assistant working out for you?
No Rosies, no Roombas, no robot pillow bear that hits your face while you’re sleeping to stop you from snoring. Because WHAT COULD GO WRONG THERE?
You say who, you say when. And take care of you.
Artwork by Nathan entitled, “WRONG” from norobots.org. There are a ton of marvelous drawings just like this. Go see.
And for more on this call to action, humansunitedagainstrobots.com.
“I watched a very provocative film last night about internet safety. It was called The Net.”
Because if you’ve only sat still for two films this year (The Great Justin Bieber Film Never Say Never ((HEY. John Waters liked it too)) and the Russell Brand Arthur, a historical 15th Anniversary viewing with a technology anthropologist is… well, it happened.
Verdict? The one thing the film predicted with great prescience: ordering pizza online.
Of all the reasons to begrudge Mark Zuckerberg’s Fantastical Book of Faces, this is tops: It cultivates lazy internet.
Back in the Ye Olde Oregon Trail IIe Days, you had to work a little to publish something online. You had to think about it, put effort into learning the platform, and not everybody did it. Online Sharing wasn’t the compulsory course it is now, thanks to Zuck.
And because it’s everywhere, it becomes the default platform. Every vague, half-spelled passing fancy and photo of meal ends up there, every rant and opinion. And unless you’d write the same things in the margins of a phone book broadcast on a JumboTron, it really ain’t the place.
With great ease, comes great abuse.
Novels don’t belong on Post Its, some photos only your mom cares about, and therapy doesn’t happen in the town square. You don’t have to take it offline, but allow me to show you how to tell you might need a little more room for your needs.
The Top 5 Signs You Need a Blog:
You’ve Ever Started a Tweet or Status Update, “Dear Someone Not Reading.” Oy. A cliché that needs to die, but let’s unpack its hideousness. If you use this “Dear Airline, Thanks for losing my luggage,” nonsense in a status update it means either a) You have a story about your day which might actually be interesting if you spent a moment telling it, in narrative form somewhere else; or b) You should be writing that thought to the party you’re directing it to. Facebook does not forward complaints.
You Direct Tweets or Updates at Someone Obliquely. “You’ll never know how much you hurt me. I saw who you’re dating now. You’ve lowered your standards.” If you’re going through something, by all means WRITE. Get it out on paper or post, where you have room for it to actually be of service to you or someone similar. A brief recap in a status update makes that sentiment cringey and desperate. You’re fishing for attention from half your audience and the other half just looked away in horror.
You Have Political/Religious Opinions. We all get worked up about something. Chris Brown. Michael Vick. On a blog, people choose to visit. In a News Feed, all of your controversy goes everywhere. It’s understanding your audience, and your polarizing peculiarities don’t belong in the mixed and literal [work-based] company of Facebook.
You Want to Post 70 Photos of Your Kid Everyday. By all means, go for it. Let grandma see your baby all day everyday, that’s what the web is GREAT for. But if it’s not news to everyone, it shouldn’t go in your News Feed. And more to the point, your kids need more privacy than Zuck thinks. If it’s on the web, it’s there for everyone. Throw the endless photos on a blog and password protect it.
Most of Your Day Warrants an Update. Facebook should get the highlights, only the standout stories that keep people vaguely in tune with the broad picture of your life. If you want to give a play-by-play, your big fans will pay for the premium channel and visit your blog.
Finally, BONUS: You Have a Particular and Peculiar Obsession. By all means, run with it and start a blog. I want, nay NEED, more WillIFit.coms. Way more.
