..like it or not..
September 23, 2010 (Thursday)
My granddaughter, Jennifer Haden, now lives in Jacksonville, Florida, with her U.S. Navy husband, Stephen. They moved clear across the country from San Diego, California during the summer. She was visiting her parents recently and she and her dad came over to my place so we could go out to eat. We decided on “King Biscuit” for lunch and as we headed toward it in the car, she pulled out her iphone and spoke to it. “King Biscuit,” she said. Her phone’s display lit up with a map and detailed instructions, changing as we drove to adjust to our new location. Wow! And it’s also a phone, an address book, a computer with access to the internet, etc. etc. What is this world coming to?
Today I have been looking at ads for solar-powered, radio-controlled wrist watches. How about that? You never have to set it or replace batteries in it. And it’s always set to the exact time, right down to a fraction of a second.
Sometimes the new technologies seem intrusive. Cameras are everywhere you go, taking your picture and recording it. Now you are watched by “Big Brother,” Big Sister, Big Daddy, Big Mama, and the whole family. Google’s street view has come in for criticism and has even been prohibited by some governments in other countries. Why? Because it intrudes on a person’s privacy. Maybe you have noticed that the pictures sometimes include people. Well, some of those folks did not want anybody to know where they were at the time. And governments have agents here and there who don’t want to be found. And so it goes.
Some of our credit cards broadcast a signal so that the person using it has only to wave it at the ATM to make it work. Problem is, it is always broadcasting, and crooks have devices that can read the signal and get your info just by standing near you.
Are we moving toward the day when every person will be carrying his/her number implanted in some sinister way? The apocalyptists love that theory. To them it means these are the final days of planet earth’s journey through the heavens.
It’s always sump’in’.