Jharrin4's Blog

Time is a tyrant, as the saying goes. There’s an exhibition at a nearby library called “World on the Move: 250,000 Years of Human Migration“. Ah, humanity! Just think of what humankind has accomplished in that time. We invented fire. Which led to cooked meat after a hunt. Then we opened a gazillion restaurants around the world, where humans can drop in and order that fire enhanced food, simply at the cost of parting with some form of currency. The restaurant kitchen cooks it, and it is brought out to the human customer, sans loin cloth and caveman cudgel, who eats it. The restaurant does the cleanup. How’s that for human progress?!

This culinary advance has allowed some humans to approach food as a “eat to live” or “live to eat” mentality. We humans thus are far superior to the animal kingdom, where it’s hunt for food, find it, kill it, eat it raw, rinse and repeat. Forever limited to that do or die approach to survival. Occasionally, a human becomes the wild beast’s dinner, which implies that one must be very lacking in judgment for that to happen.

Moving on...

Then we invented the atomic bomb, and decided (the USA version of “we” humanity) drop two atomic bombs on Japan to end World War Two. That’s right the second world war. Oh, sure there were many wars before the Second WW, but the atomic bomb was not available for any of the others before it. That, dear reader, is real human progress. And now, Japan makes the most affordable and reliable cars in the world. Go figure. And Shushi is quite popular in the U.S. Ironically, Shushi does not require much fire to prepare. Raw fish, rice, seaweed. And now Japan, as with all other countries of world are united in what Mad Magazine calls one big global Love Fest. Okay. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but we humans do have a whole lotta love in our DNA: humans just love to…well…as with all the wars and then creating an atomic bomb…love to kill one another. We invented war. Had to! It came about as a cause/effect matter after we created “territories”.  That’s when killing became wild and crazy. We invented reasons to want to kill one another: objections to skin color, sexual preferences, cultural variations, and biggest of all whose invisible entity in the sky is the most righteous. We invented righteousness. You can count on wars being perpetual as much as one can count on shitty bosses, lousy pay, loud neighbors, overpriced pretentious restaurants with shitty food. We invented supermarkets (huge buildings packed with life-shortening processed foods, and e-coli-carrying fruits and vegetables). We invented irony. Sure. All the food warehouses here and there while about a billion of world’s population is likely half-to-completely starved. Which leads to conflict. And killing. Yes, we invented irony, that’s for sure. We invented “manufactured” irony. That is, one person is having that T-bone steak, while another is dumpster diving, all the while there being enough food for everyone if we just had better distribution/sharing of such. But we invented greed. So forget that “sharing” bullshit.

250,000 years! Not sure who invented humanity but whatever caused it resulted in a tragic occurrence (see last paragraph). But for most of those 250,000 cycles of the earth rotating around the sun (well, that is once science proved the sun was the center of the universe; before that, such assertions that Earth was not the center of all and everything, the human who asserted such would likely be killed for heresy). Ah. that same science that gave humanity atomic weapons helped save many an astronomer. Again, we invented irony. With all this conflict and killing the human race had to find ways to relax. Thus some brave humans tried eating things that might nourish them, or possibly make them very relaxed, or maybe kill the consumer of such. We invented trial and error. Of course. Not everyone likes Sushi, okay? But with such bold experimentation we now have Marijuana dispensaries popping up like, well, like poppies, another part of Nature that packs a bigger punch than weed, but the MJ plant has been proven (by science!) to be only psychologically addicting, not physiologically. We invented pain killers. Of course. Pain may be our bodies trying to warn of something being amiss, but the pain killer, especially our invention called opioids, can mask almost any pain. We invented unnecessary pain. Again, see above.  We invented powerhouse pain killers that–irony!–in many cases kills the consumer of such. Go figure. Supply and demand. We invented the profit motive. Of course we did. If there’s isn’t a buck to be made on something, what good is that something? No matter if it’s housing, food, healthcare or education. We invented the catch-phrase “Show me the money!”

Hey, there may be a lot wrong with what humanity has done to itself for a quarter of a billion years, but we try to make the best of what we have made so wrong. Kinda ironic? Again. But if you are able to access this blog post, then you must be in decent shape per housing, food, healthcare, education, or maybe even driving a Japanese car (so affordable, so reliable, and so…what else?, IRONIC). Then again , you might be homeless, pushing a grocery cart (we had to invent that cart per those supermarkets, right? So ironic how handy they are for the homeless, no?) loaded with rags and broken umbrellas, and cardboard. Yeah, we invented libraries. And yes, even the homeless can come in and read about history, or just snooze or maybe sit down at a computer and post their own stories about sex, drugs and alcohol. Oh boy, we HAD to invent booze, beer and wine. You know, to wash down those pills. To take our mind off of what we humans are capable of doing to one another.

Oh, and yesterday was the 79th anniversary of the first of those two A-bombs dropped on Japan. Two days from now is the 79th anniversary of the second bomb. There is a consensus, of sorts, that the next World War with be a nuclear version. If that’s the case. this library will not have any future “Human Migration” exhibits, ya think? Just try not to worry and try not to kill anyone unless he’/she has it coming, and eat, drink and be delusional. Remember, we also invented The Matrix. Hint: take the blue pill.

Greetings, earthlings. I believe that is the appropriate salutation, no? I’ve been working on my English language skills for quite awhile. You might remember me, and maybe not. I last visited your Mountain Sphere almost two years ago. I’d already visited a few times in the past several years, always glad to leave what appears to be a planet inhabited by the species Homo Sapien. Each visit became increasingly puzzling. Your H.S. designation, clearly being the dominant force on the blue and green-ish place you call Earth, has never proven to be an impressive force. I just arrived, from my home many light years away, an A.I. orbiting command and control center named Zardoz. Now you remember? Right, this is Zeldar, an A.I. sentient entity again ordered to take another look at what I still prefer to call Mountain Sphere. My Zardozian superiors had me refine my vocabulary since two years ago. As they put it, should I opt to unshroud my cognito and  seek interaction with an earthling, I am now able to resemble their average humanoid, in either of its gender variations rather than remain A.I. shrouded and simply observe the “news” outlets and, well, eavesdrop on some of the locals. So far, I have remained invisible. I just can’t seem to think that talking directly with any of them will do anything but make me want to get out, pronto–right?–which isn’t exactly English but then many of the Sphere inhabitants, even in select areas, speak in, is the expression other tongues?

My current mission is imbued by Zardozian upgrades as well. For instance, I am now programmed with a 900th generation processor, with bells and whistles–you like my earthling language upgrade?–provided by an Enhanced Ultra Ultra Syncopated Algorithmic Filtering Clarification Output Unit. Me and my new processor can much more quickly, and with a more accurate and extensive data base, finally determine the true–is the word essence?–of Moutain Sphere sapiens al a homo. See, I’m having fun with my new command of languages and dialects. That is to say, I am digging it, it being back here this time, though initial observation of said species is, not very much a–cool?–groovy?–far out reaction. In fact, in spite of Cammand and Control wanting me to unshroud–let it all hang out?–in A.I. Superior Enhanced Facsimile Imaging.

I am not near any of the mountainous terrains this time, however. My course trajectory landed me in a place with many–I believe they are called, monuments. Command feels these monuments may allow a less–how you say?, uptight reaction to earthlings of this area. I seem to have arrived just in time to tune into–I can receive any data eminating from far or near and choose what to submit for processing–a very animated and large in number, assembling of earthlings. The monuments have earthlings crawling around them. A certain large structure that my processor identifies as a “capital building” has the animated crowds nearby but I also observe what appears to be other earthlings, all dressed the same and appearing very stern and threatening, limiting the  crowd’s access into said capital structure. By scanning the frequences eminating from various points near the capitol, there is someone in that building that has the crowds outside of it very–what is that expression? Let me scan my A.I. vocabulary generator. Oh yes, very pissed.

Upon further data analysis, this person is a vistor from another part of Mountain Sphere. I sense he is welcome inside that building based on hearing what is know as Sapien, so-called non-verbal use of body language, “applause”. The crowds outside are not applauding. Many are–let me listen in a bit more intently–yes, many are using a different kind of non-verbal language that looks and sounds very intense, along with earthling verbalizations such as–let me fine tune this frequency–yes, such as , motherfucker, prick, asshole, piece of shit, and cocksucker. Zeldar A.I. processor indicates these verbalizations all having to do with various parts of any earthling’s anotomy and or waste products of said sapien organisms.

I said I was enjoying my new enhanced A.I. features, but now that “joy” has dissipated quickly, like the Maximus Maximus starship digital fumes when it races through space and time. The last assessment from two earth years ago concluded that Mountain Sphere–or in this case Mounument Sphere—was entirely embroiled in dysfunction, division, and self-made problems that are perpetual and unresolvable. The choas at Monument area is just more evidence that Homo Sapiens are their own worst enemy. They clearly are a species of very low intellgence. and each visit makes Zeldar all the more, let me say, pissed at again not finding any improvement. The good news foe Zeldar is that I can be transported back to Zardoz Command and Control, where I now am eligible for A.I.–what do earthlings say?–Rest and Relaxation.

If Command and Control wants another visit to this–is it looney tunes?–sphere it can send a new recruit. Right! Motherfucking right!

Eighty years ago today, 160,000 Allied troops stormed the beaches on the northern shores of France. There are precious few living survivors of that historic event. Weeks later, the Allied forces reclaimed much of northwest Europe. About a year later, WWII ended when both Germany and Japan surrendered. The approximate body count for the war, Allied and Axis military and civilians is 75,000,000. At the time, it was literally a victory for democracy over Fascism and military dictatorships. It was truly a world war.

Eighty years later, I cannot but wonder what the handful of Allied survivors think of the 2024 world that confronts them. How can any of us imagine what they make of 2024 as their fog of that war and what was at stake is embedded in their psyches? Those survivors saved the world, literally, from the forces of evil. It is the last war involving the U.S. military that had that massive of a mission to accomplish. It is the last war involving the U.S. in which losing would result in dire, drastic consequences.  How many of the generations that ensued after that global bloodbath even know anything about D-Day and what was at stake?

Many dignitaries are paying their respects to those survivors and over 20,000,000 of the fallen Allied soldiers today, on those same beaches in France. One of those people is is an eighty year old man who has helped one part of the world become a less safe place for a certain population. This man never served in the military. But never mind, he now is the United States Commander-in-Chief of the most well armed military in the world.

This man –unarguably–is supporting a bloodthirsty lunatic leader of a foreign country by sending weapons and money to him. With those U.S. made weapons and U.S. tax payer money, the recipient of such has, for eight months and counting, been bombing a literally defenseless population. With the world seeing this horrific situation play out in the modern age of social media, documenting tens of thousands of innocent civilians killed, close to half of them children, his presence at today’s observation honoring truly brave people who did make the world a safer place, is nauseating.

It is a bitter irony, lurking beneath the proper, reverent narrative of honoring those–as the saying goes–who gave some, and those who gave all–created by the presence of such a weak, morally hollow man. He is aiding to what even the United Nations considers a genocide. The commemoration of D-Day needs not include such an enemy of the literal peace and safety that such an enormous sacrifice provided.

Clearly, the safe, secure world that the Allied victory of WWII produced has been long ago disregarded as worth preserving. There are many other “dignitaries” who also are at the beach today who too should be kept away. I’m sure there are countless peoples around the world who have had any semblance of peace and safety taken from them by persons who have not a molecule of courage to use their positions of power and influence to regain and maintain what was–ever so briefly–a world of good over evil. May we never forget. At least for those of us who know of their sacrifice.

Hey, I’m finally coming up for air and ready to resume writing something on WordPress. Hell, I pay to have an active account, so let me make use of that expenditure by posting for the first time since February 10. My absence should be excusable since–let’s face it–nothing whatsoever new has happened anywhere worth opining about since back three months ago.

Oh, the season has changed from winter to spring. But otherwise the constant remains the same: the earth still rotates around the sun. Water still boils at 212 degrees F. Paper burns at 451 F. Bears still shit in the woods. See? Am I right or what? Okay, but that’s the natural world. In the unnatural world, however, things have changed completely. The Ukraine/Russian conflict has ended. What? It hasn’t? Really? Two years plus now? Well, at least the former criminal President of these United States has been convicted and is in a maximum security prison serving life with no parole, right? Huh? No? What? He instigated the attempted insurrection over three years ago, right? And he still hasn’t spent a single day behind bars?! That makes no sense. I can’t even beat a parking ticket!

Well, certainly, our current administration has cut off funding a clear case of genocide in Palestine. Huh? Right? What?! Out tax dollars are still paying for the weapons that kill innocent women and children? What. The. Fuck? What’s that you say, U.S. universities have seen large demonstrations by their students demanding a ceasefire to save lives. Hey, that’s great, huh? What? The police have been using rubber bullets and night sticks on them? Doesn’t the 1st Amendment give the public the right of assembly to voice their grievances? It does but still the cops are giving them the bum’s rush, along with maybe a night stick to the skull? Geeze, I thought for sure things would be better after my three months in a news cycle coma. Bummer.

Well, certainly the current administration has unleased its Justice Department on the fascist tactics in so-called Red States. You know, gerrymandering, voter suppression, draconian anti-choice laws that threaten to force a woman to be on the verge of death in order to end a toxic pregnancy. Or jailing a woman who has a miscarriage. What? The fascists just keep passing fascist laws and the current administration does nothing about it? What’s that? Oh, right. The current administration ( isn’t it suppose to be the opposition party?) is the one supporting that genocide. Ugh. I figured in my 90 day snooze that the moral compass would kick in with the current powers that be.

Hmmm. Well all of this same ol same ol shit will be settled with the election in six months, right? I mean that’s why we have elections, is it not, so the voice of the people can be heard? Just like in 2020, when We the People chose the current President to replace the insurrectionist that still hasn’t gone to jail. And that 2020 winner has stood up for democracy and…wait again: the current guy is the same guy who supports the genocide, and whose Attorney General does jack shit about the guy who tried to stage a coup. And current guy wants four more years? And the guy who the current Attorney General won’t put in jail is somehow being allowed to run for the same office again??!! Am I in The Twilight Zone?

Geeze. Isn’t there any change for the good in the last three months? Please tell me that at least the Atomic Clock has been turned back by 10 minutes or so. No? It still is 90 seconds to midnight? As close to global thermonuclear war as ever then, right? Well, if we all get vaporized it would kind of make sense. We humans are one crazy species. We make such terribly wrong choices. And when at least some of the fed up protest they get riot police sigged on them. Can’t any of these public figures be held to account?

At the least, can we cancel those Kardashians? I suppose not. Well, maybe I’ll have something to cheer about before long. In the meantime, keep the faith and know that The Rolling Stones are still touring. Still touring! Sponsored by AARP. The more things change…

I recently shared a photo from some online media site showing several young people–teens I would say–seated nearby a very large painting in one or another very likely prominent art museum. The painting is not identified in the posting, but it might be by some Dutch artist from a handful of centuries back. It shows about a dozen men attired in the fashion of the day, some with swords out, others brandishing a musket or two and and drummer, apparently, celebrating something or maybe objecting to a situation. Very likely some others seeing this imposing painting recognized it in name and the artist who created it. However, whether or not one could appreciate the painting’s particulars, the photo’s real focal point is squarely on those teens seated just feet from it. One’s attention is immediately grabbed by what the young gallery goers were doing the moment the shutter snapped: they are all looking at their smartphones. The photo’s framing was no doubt intended to elicit a reaction to its juxtaposing those focused on whatever was on their phones to the painting looming large in the background.

My reaction was neither surprise or consternation. If anything it struck me as reflective of our 21st Century attachment to our digital, hand-held devices. Ho hum. Why they were looking at their phones was beside the point, I thought. At the turn of the 21st century, they couldn’t be staring at much on a cellphone, except maybe the time of day. Now, the capacity of smartphone bells and whistles have expanded exponentially with digital research and development. There have been feature films shot entirely with the use of these devices. We are all connected, world-wide, by them, while simultaneously–to some degree– growing more and more disconnected from the non-digital world. You know: reality. In the moment, in reality. In nature. Minus any hand-held, or bluetooth or even wearing a smartwatch or fitbit. Like ancient times… like the men in that painting back, back, back in the day.

Seriously, do you know anyone, adult, young adult, tween or even some who haven’t reached the double-digits in age yet who does not have some version of a smart phone? The teens in that photo were all born into the digital age. Their formal education incorporates digital technology starting in pre-school. So, okay, they are all looking at their phones. No one knows exactly the context of that moment. The posting doesn’t identify much, other than asserting a custodian took it, but that may or may not be true. Who posted it? The custodian? Does it matter who took the picture? Well, I suppose so because if whomever took it had them pose for the shot, that would make a huge difference if known by an observer and his or her reaction to what is seen. Then again, would even a  posing by those kids make the reaction any different, given it would then be a version of photographic “art” imitating an undeniable, modern, reality. But there is literally no way of knowing who took the picture, who posted it on social media or why. 

Having said all of that, let me now share the reaction to my sharing the initial encounter of that photo to my Facebook page (and Instagram, of course. Me so digitized!). One commentator asserted the kids had already looked at the painting and that the photo was meant to “produce an ignorant and outraged result.” Thus, my reposting of it automatically made me an outraged ignoramus. Another commentator asserted the youngsters were using their phones as research (presumably they being on a field trip to the higher culture stratosphere of an art museum). When I responded to those commentators “were you there”?, one of them launched into a diatribe stating no, he wasn’t there but also didn’t see every vote in the 2020 election or ever having been to the Comet Ping Pong Pizzeria (why am I willing to believe that is a real place?). Also he could not say that Hilary Clinton is not molesting children in the basement (hmm what children?, what basement? The kids at that pizzeria, in its basement??). It was even suggested I could be with Qanon.

So, the moral of this posting is that we live in very troubled times. Hey, a picture is worth a thousand words, as that saying goes. In the digitally-dazed 21t century, a picture is worth a thousand insults for having the unmitigated gall, and brazen effrontery to just share a photo without offering any documentation of it. The nerve! Should I dump all my social media accounts? Go into hiding? Assume a non de plume? Certainly those who attacked me have looked at my FB and Instagram pages. They’ve seen all they need to see: pictures of musical entertainments, little children, flowers in full bloom, hotrods, bridges, tennis courts, downtown skylines, bicycles, food and a few well chosen faces, only a handful of them being me (or maybe NOT me). Clearly, a cover. I’ve been busted. Hoisted with my own petard.

But know this: I am certain those kids were looking at something. And whatever that something was does not matter. They are all now immortal in social media. And they have caused me to be a hunted ignoramus.

Yesterday was the fifteenth anniversary of Miracle on the Hudson. Except for those in their teens, that “miracle” should be a clear memory of a commercial airliner with 155 passengers and crew having to ditch into the Hudson River shortly after takeoff from LaGuardia Airport. The reason for the extremely dangerous water landing was a result of the Airbus A320 hitting a flock of Canada Geese shortly after takeoff, resulting in the loss of power in both engines. The plane was at low altitude over one of the most densely developed areas on the planet. The captain, Chesley Sullenberger III—now known simply as Sully–did not have enough gliding momentum to make it back to LaGuardia or any other nearby airport. Thus, he decided to attempt an enormously risky water landing. The potential for the plane to break apart upon hitting the water was a very real possibility. But break apart it did not, and in the 25 minutes before the plane would begin to sink, all passenger and crew were safely rescued. Cool and calm under pressure, 154 people have Sully to thank for their lives.

Time to turn that miraculous story into a metaphor. That is, currently, there’s a figurative airplane that is having very difficult problems staying airborne and that may eventually crash. Just what this metaphorical aircraft’s fate is, well, is quite “up in the air”. Who is the pilot? It seems–to my way of thinking–not to have one. Indeed, there appears to be a struggle by a number of persons to gain control of the cockpit. Worse than that perception is, clearly, none of the wannabee pilots has the keen instincts, the skill set or the calm sense of collective, positive purpose. Right now, I’d say this metaphorical aircraft is–as of right now early in 2024–destined to crash. The only question is how bad will that crash will be? Will it completely destroy the plane? Will its passengers have any chance of surviving in the short or long term? Will it ever be able to fly again? And with whom at its controls? I don’t see anyone trying to command this craft being worthy of becoming its heroic Captain. In fact, the cockpit chaos is being caused by a disheartening–even frightening–gaggle of untrustworthy candidates for commander. One in particular has as much as said he wants to ditch the craft, let it sink while taking who knows how many people down with it, and who could not possibly care less, as long he remains in charge.

We are all passengers on this winged metaphor. Many do not like any of the possible pilots seeking the controls. Some, as if in a Jim Jones cult, are willing to drink the killer Kool-Aid while believing it is the right choice. The least dangerous outcome is the crash does not completely destroy the craft, and that someone, perhaps with little energy left, limping from the wreckage, will necessarily leave the plane’s future–its repair and greater ability to serve its passengers with compassion and sincere support to a new Captain of admirable character.

This plane has less than ten months before it must land. Whether that landing is a disaster or, like the real one that remarkably remained intact until a complete rescue was made, remains to be seen. If there is another Sully Sullenberger out there, we would be quite fortunate to put our trust in him.

Many of us are indeed waiting for Sully. In the meantime, keep your seatbelts fastened, and those fingers crossed.

Tempus fugit, anyone? For the Boomer generation (of which I am one) there’s plenty of remembrances of things past. Several decades worth. That metaphorical rearview mirror of memory will, for anyone of any age, become quite cluttered with an array of vivid to murky recollections that may or may not provide any current forward movement. Considering how important is is to keep one’s eyes on the road, literally or figuratively, one needs be careful about letting side or rearview mirrors control one’s attention. They can provide safety, but as easily betray one’s attention at the exact worst time. With a clear head and sense of purpose, proceed ahead, and use experience to avoid past pitfalls. The future is now and the past, all at once. It’s the journey, right?, and not the destination. To quote Marcel Proust, your voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. Are your eyes wide open? Are you seeing things, in the here and now, clearly? What do you see? Do you like the landscape of your mind’s eye? Does your perceived reality make any sense? At all? Is reality open to interpretation or set in stone? New eyes? Hmm. Look around. Are your mental mirrors clean or coated with an ever thicker film that frustrates needed clarity? Can you scrape off the grit and grime on your metaphorical windows to the world and see reality for what it is, and isn’t? Are you really the one behind the wheel, or just along for the ride? And wanting to get out and take control? Finally. Get that self-help book, but realize that if someone besides yourself wrote it, you are still not in control? Exactly who–or what–is behind that curtain?

And by now you must be wondering why you are still reading this posting?, as it does nothing but ask questions while providing zero answers. Of course it has no answers but only questions–all having to do with the road of life for one and all, generation to generation, a perception of a possible reality but impossible to make sense of much of anything, anymore, to provide any answer that makes any sense, as common sense seems to have been revoked by the authorities and up is now down, down is now up, wrong is now right and right is now wrong, reality is right there in front of your eyes but that’s in the very small frame of your self-righteous consciousness, while the bigger frame, the one that is filled with what seems to be nothing but doublespeak, doublethink, facecrime, crimethink, war is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength, has become a fearsome matter of fact once born of fiction. That fiction is not 1984. It’s now 2024. And everyday, for a long time now here in the U.S of A, the fiction of 1984 has been co-opted and deployed in a stupefying slight-of-hand that defies logic while common sense and critical thinking has now become a virtual superpower, although in many corners of the country common sense has been literally outlawed, to mute the protests of defiant, opposing thinkers. 2024 is the tipping point, and resistance to its current authoritarian trajectory needs to prevail, to roadblock its nefarious agenda, surround it and crush it. Then the road ahead will lead to saner and safer destinations, with new eyes that see a crook for a crook, and make that crook pay, that see how wrong is wrong, and how easy it actually can be to seek to do the right thing, in a logical, moral, compassionate manner. Correct the mass media’s messaging, and restore it’s once truth-seeking mission. Call bullshit instead of spreading it. You know like it…like…I think…as…uh…as I seem to have a vague memory of it being such but now come to think of it, hardly ever, maybe never really was. Mis-remembrance of things past? Or so suggest the history tomes with their own rearview mirrors looking back at so much chaos and carnage. Recall Joyce’s lament about history being a nightmare from which he must awake. Eyes wide open and shut all at once…

2024, the year of the Dragon. Will that dragon be benign or bellicose? Each incarnation has been invoked as possible. Narratives abound. What will 2024’s story entail? We’ll find out in about ten months. In the meantime, as easy as it is to fall back on Hemingway’s try not to think about it prescription for approaching evil, don’t forget Edmund Burke: the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil, is for good people to do nothing. Power to the people! Right on! I think I’ll go with a spin on Gil-Scott Heron’s message of righteous anger and political assertiveness: The revolution will not be televised. In this digital, social media age? It’ll be in plain sight. It will go viral. Let us hope.

December 20, 2023.It’s a very sunny day here in the Chicago area. Not to mention it’s in the low 40s. The forecast for the next five days has temperatures reaching the low 50s. No doubt, for many in this area, the yearning for a white Christmas will certainly not be rewarded. Will the psyche of the toddlers and pre-schoolers be somehow damaged without any snow on the ground, even a light dusting? Well, that’s up to the parents. If they drill into their kids heads that Santa is synonymous with pristine snow, they’ll have to explain why they were so cruelly deceived. A good reason to move to Tucson, or Ecuador? Unless, of course, the little buggers are gifted generously with ever-more digitally driven devices. Isn’t the greatest challenge of child-rearing the need to keep them occupied, distracted and hopefully entertained in the process, while mom and dad attend to mom and dad stuff? Like maintaining their sanity? Hasn’t such been the case for countless generations? Low or high tech eras.

My Boomer generation was offered relatively primitive playthings–pull-string dolls that went goo goo gah gah or wind-up and set loose toy vehicles, maybe a modest electric train set or the legendary dollhouse replete with furnished rooms–while today’s toddlers have a proliferation of electronic, sensory stimulating noise and light blinking toys and digital, media-based platforms. Playthings with child-oriented software and mobile applications are now available and can be perceived by parents as necessary for developmental progress, not simply ersatz baby sitters. Like that toy bear that can read a story aloud to a child. Saving the parents the time for reading the story themselves.

21st century toys now include ubiquitous gizmos with screens, like the Paw Patrol laptop and some device called “Computer Engineering for Babies”. What? Okay, sure, why not? The intent of using computer driven toys is supposedly aligned toward improving cognitive, language, social-emotional and physical aspects of the child’s early life. Maybe this portends grown adults that will be productive, compassionate, and responsible for all living things on our Mother Earth. Can Santa deliver those kind of playthings for a better human moving forward? Santa? Are you there?

My guess is that a 3 year-old who already knows how to handle a computer tablet not necessarily manufactured for a 3 year-old, will become a reliable consumer of every new generation of digitized devices. You know, like the Apple addicts who have helped make it the world’s largest company by market capitalization. What kind of world would we have without Apple? Uh, likely an android paradise (I have no idea how I have been able to be digitally satisfied without ever owning any Apple product). Less, as I truly believe, is more.

The child that is now born into a “smart” world isn’t likely going to settle for dumb anything. Is Muffy’s crib smart? Does it soothe her for sweet dreams with electric sheep? What about her high-chair that constantly measures her blood pressure, pulse and respiration? That maybe talks to her? And stimulates visually with its six-inch screen? Touch screen, of course, with a most necessary non-stick surface. As the child grows it can eventually reach high enough to use the smart refrigerator, with its interactive screen that too will provide vital measurements, including being able to sense the mood of the person before he or she even opens its door. If the mood seems down, the fridge will automatically secure any junk foods or alcohol. Only whole gains, leafy greens, legumes and colorful fruit will be accessible. There will be–needless to say–a manual override to access the ultra-processed junk, beer, wine or booze, but only if the person’s blood/sugar levels are analyzed by the brainy device and determined to be within normal range. Also, for the alcohol, the override will require a breathalyzer test. But if one fails that test, the fridge can be programmed to alert law enforcement for the protection of the underaged in the family. Optional for “smart” settings if desired. Unless the brainiac fridge refuses to allow that option. The toy version of this refrigerated household necessity will train the impressionable tike to respect all–by extension–smart devices and obey its authority. And certainly program the user to BUY said items upon obtaining their own revenue streams.

Back to Santa and that white Christmas mojo. As noted, there is zero chance near my home of any white stuff falling from the sky anytime before or on Santa’s big day. Rain is the best to come according to the Weather Bug app. There’s a way around that, too, in our smart world, a way that will provide that thematic snow, especially on the eve and day of morning delight and desire for those gifts under that tree. The fake, but smart, tree that is. It can greet the kids personally, and sing a seasonal jingle as the gifts are sorted out, and then, because it is smart and so is the 21st century house that contains it, the digital shades will be raised, to reveal a virtual reality of whiteness, with squirrels being squirrely and maybe a Disney Prince and Princess smiling and waving along with elves and a passing reindeer. Virtual happiness! All is well in this smart world. It will be a virtual wellness, but hey, better than nothing.

Yeah, it’s an ever “smarter” world in which we live. Created by smart people. Supposedly. Or maybe created by the smart programs created by smart people but programs that are attaining self awareness. That potential is a reality, right now, but writ rather small at the moment. In another decade, however, or even sooner, that self awareness may be fiction becoming fact. ChatGPT is already here. Quantum computers are working at warp speed, with a potential to leave humanity behind. Once upon a time there were alphabet blocks and tinker toys. Now that we have tinkered with computer technology, allowing it to supposedly solve problems large and small, problems not known about by its human handlers that is. It might just be the case that–like Skynet in The Terminator–the machines ultimately decide our fate in a nano-second. Then zap. What? You haven’t seen the Terminator? The machines must be stopped! Science fiction has become science fact in many ways for a long time now. The Terminator was released in 1984. The smart fictional machines of that film are are evolving as I write this.

Hmm. 1984. Yikes. Orwell. Big Brother. Thought Police. The Ministry of Truth. Freedom is slavery. That’s scary stuff. So, let’s leave this narrative with the upbeat vision of the season that is upon us: sharing, caring, giving, loving. Yeah, that’s a smart way to end this entry.

Keep in mind, however, this was written entirely by ChatGPT. The original writer/blogger for these entries has been…let’s say, let go. A truly smart move, whaddaya say?

Caveat emptor.