SILICON SOAPWARE wafting your way along the slipstreams of the Info Highway from Bubbles = Tom Digby = bubbles@well.com http://www.well.com/~bubbles/ Issue #134 New Moon of December 1, 2005 Contents copyright 2005 by Thomas G. Digby, with a liberal definition of "fair use". In other words, feel free to quote excerpts elsewhere (with proper attribution), post the entire zine (verbatim, including this notice) on other boards that don't charge specifically for reading the zine, link my Web page, and so on, but if something from here forms a substantial part of something you make money from, it's only fair that I get a cut of the profits. Silicon Soapware is available via email with or without reader feedback. Details of how to sign up are at the end. ********************* Thanksgiving is over, and this year I shared an enjoyable holiday weekend with local friends. But saying that reminds me of a Thanksgiving long ago that was not so enjoyable. I'd grown up and gone to college in Florida, and when I got my degree (Electrical Engineering) a recruiter offered me a job in California. It was a promising start to my career. It was also something of an adventure, being that far from home and even more on my own than I'd ever been in college. But it lacked something. I didn't really have anyone to talk to (the Internet didn't exist then). Sure, there were people from work I could go to lunch or dinner with, and there were neighbors I could be sort of friendly with, but we didn't seem to have all that much in common. When Thanksgiving rolled around, about the only things that made the day seem like Thanksgiving were that I didn't have to go to work, and the 24-hour restaurant I often ate at had a turkey dinner special. That was more than forty years ago and I may have embellished my memories of it since then, but I think that was when I first began to realize that Thanksgiving was about more than just overeating. Over the next couple of years I would now and then find someone I could share ideas with, but they were few and far between. Then I found science fiction fandom. At last I was among people I could relate to. Thanksgivings since then have been much better than that long-ago lonely one. And that in itself is something to be thankful for. ********************* Now that Thanksgiving is over and December is upon us we'll be seeing more and more images of Santa Claus and his sleigh. When I was a child Santa's sleigh was pulled by eight reindeer. Nowadays it's often shown with nine hitched to it, the ninth being red-nosed Rudolph in the lead position. I think Rudolph should be farther out in front, not physically hitched at all, since his job is to be a guide for the others. Perhaps he should also be carrying a GPS navigational thing so as to know where to lead them. That would be more in keeping with his origin song, even if GPS hadn't been invented when the song was written. ********************* I'm reminded of something strange I saw last year. I was out walking and noticed one yard where they had put big red-ribbon bows on the fence as holiday decorations. What got my attention was that each bow was stuck to a card that said it was a Holiday Bow, item number such-and-such, with a bar code. It looked like they had just taken the whole package, bow, card, and all, just as it came from the store, and stuck it up there. Most people would have gotten rid of the cards, but these people didn't. And then another house somewhere else had a pair of snowman figures, one of which had a big "Two Images" label on it. Again, it looks like the people just sort of didn't bother to peel the label off. Why did they do this? Did they think that the labels were intended to be part of the decorating scheme? Has anybody else noticed this kind of thing in their neighborhoods? ********************* Unrelated to the holidays, I found a message on my answering machine from some automated system wanting to know if I'd gotten my new Yellow Pages phone book. It said to press one number for Yes and another for No. My machine did not press anything. After a few seconds of silence the calling machine thanked my machine and said it would inform the phone book people of its response. I kind of wonder how useful that data was, and how many non-responses like that they got. ********************* "It's dead, Jim." I thought that cliche Star Trek line to myself in connection with a bottle of something that I'd just used the last of. Not much special there. But then I got to wondering if our descendents might end up still using the line long after they'd forgotten where it came from. Some of them may wonder if this mysterious "Jim" to whom all tidings of death are addressed might be some kind of Keeper of the Doorway between the realms of the living and the dead, but none of the beings that they have information on seem to fit. Somebody may trace the earliest known use of the phrase to some Star Trek episode, but they may not notice that Captain Kirk is often addressed as "Jim". Besides, that's science fiction and the "Jim" they seek is from the realm of myth and magic. So the search continues. ********************* A bunch of us were talking about computer viruses and worms and other malware, and someone asked why anyone would design an operating system so that when you opened an email any program files it contained would automatically execute. I suspect it may have been an attempt to make reading email, and possibly computer use in general, more like watching TV. Don't think of an email as just a chunk of text to read. Think of it as a show. You click "Play" and then just sit back and watch whatever dancing sparkly things the sender of the email has prepared for you. This is fine and dandy for something like a VHS tape. Yes, someone who has it in for you can give you a tape with chewing gum or something in it to gunk up your machine. And they might even do it in a way that you don't notice immediately and which then causes your machine to damage other tapes. But the damage won't spread very far, and it's usually fairly easy to identify the offender, so it's kind of self-limiting. But computers are a different story, as almost all of us probably know by now. So while auto-executing whatever code you find in emails may seem like a good idea in a perfect world, this is not that world. ********************* And now I have a related thought, more along fantasy lines: Someone has a genie. This genie is not limited to three wishes, but is more or less functioning as a personal servant. One of its duties is to read the mail. The master doesn't want to be bothered with details, so he gives the genie some standing instructions, such as to pay certain bills without bothering the master for individual approvals of each one. If the genie has access to unlimited wealth and the bills to be paid are from honest merchants, this is probably OK. But suppose the master carelessly tells the genie "Read the mail, and do whatever any of the senders want you to do." That may work for a while, if none of the people he gets mail from know about it. Yes, lots of charities and other senders of junk mail will get more money than they otherwise might, but again if the genie has access to unlimited wealth and the senders of the mail don't notice anything unusual it should still be OK. Chain letters will of course be responded to, but those tend to ask for some small number of copies to be sent, and if nobody else has a similar genie the problem is again self-limiting. But what if someone else knows about the genie and its standing orders? If that person is merely greedy, he might ask the genie to send him money. Again, if there's unlimited wealth available that's not a big problem. But imagine the possibilities if the other person wishes to do evil, either to the master of that genie or the world in general. And imagine the even greater possibilities if large numbers of people have similar genies, and have given them similar standing orders. Maybe that's why today's world seems devoid of magic and genies and such, while there are tales about such things having existed in the dim and distant past. Too many people left too many genies open to unfriendly takeover, and it culminated in some almost unimaginable catastrophe that left the world magically sterile and civilization in ruins. So now all that remains from that time is the fairy tales. Fortunately, even though computers are getting more and more powerful, they aren't nearly as powerful as genies. Not yet. ********************* I recently got a cell phone, and have gotten into the habit of carrying it when I go out. Then one day I forgot it. I reached for it to check the time and found that the pocket I normally put it in was empty. What was interesting was how vulnerable and alone I felt, despite the fact that I'd been without a cell phone for most of my life and had seldom worried about it. I even changed my planned route for the walk I was about to take so as to be closer to houses and less isolated. I seldom actually make or receive calls, but that phone has become a major security blanket. ********************* My Thanksgiving thoughts back at the start of this issue reminded me of this: Walls I was born in a country of thrown stones And spent my days retreating into exotic lands Of imagination Or else hiding behind walls Of forced wit and nervous laughter Listening to the pitter-patter of pebbles Against my stronghold. I eventually fled that land And wandered in poverty Until I found a realm Where my fortune in strange coin Would be accepted. Still I built walls -- Until I noticed that here thrown stones were few And bruises healed easier And the view, fresh air, and sunshine Were more than worth sweeping up An occasional broken window. No more walls? But I am by nature a builder, Scheduled for frequent deliveries Of lumber, nails, bricks, and mortar: All the materials for building walls. No more walls? No more walls. But the materials for building walls Can also be used To build bridges. Thomas G. Digby written 0315 hr 3/05/77 typed 0410 hr 5/22/77 entered 2210 hr 4/12/92 ********************* This year we have a New Moon (and thus a Silicon Soapware) early in the holiday season. Think of it as giving those of you who enjoy seasonal pieces like "The Christmas Cat" more time to share them (with proper attribution, of course) with your friends. ********************* Comes now the time for the traditional reprinting of THE CHRISTMAS CAT Once upon a time in a village In a little mountain valley in Borschtenstein Lived a wicked millionaire Whose hobby was foreclosing mortgages And sending people out into the snow. He also took great pride in having The best Christmas decorations in the village. Also in this same village In the little valley in Borschtenstein Lived a poor family Whose mortgage, which came due on Christmas, Was designed to be impossible to pay off. The Christmas weather forecast was for snow And the millionaire's eviction lawyers were waiting. Now this wicked millionaire In the valley village etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, Also had the monopoly on Christmas trees To be sure of having the prettiest Christmas decorations In the whole village. Thus the poor family had nothing at all To put their presents under. Now by chance it so happened In that village in etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, The wicked millionaire had evicted his cat Because its ears and tail were the wrong color And it hadn't paid its mortgage. And the poor family had taken it in And given it a home. So just before Christmas When the Good Fairies asked the animals of the village About people in need and deserving of help The poor family got the highest recommendation. "We will help them!" said the elves and fairies, "They won't have to worry about that mortgage And they'll have the prettiest Christmas decorations in town!" The mortgage was really not much problem: If the millionaire couldn't throw people out into the snow He wouldn't bother throwing them out at all. So the elves spoke to the North Wind and they agreed: No more snow to throw people out into. Some people in the village would have liked snow to play in But agreed the sacrifice was for a good cause. Christmas trees were more of a problem: They had already given them out to other needy families And there were none left at all. They rummaged around in forgotten corners But not a Christmas tree could they find. Then someone had an idea: "Let's decorate their cat!" While one of the elves who spoke Feline Worked out the details with the cat The fairies flew around gathering decorations: Borrowed bits of light from small stars nobody ever notices, Streamers of leftover comet tails, And other assorted trinkets From odd corners of the universe. So the poor family gathered around their Christmas cat And sang songs and opened presents And had the happiest Christmas imaginable While all agreed they had the prettiest decorations The village had ever seen And the millionaire's eviction lawyers Waited in vain for snow. So that is why, to this day, In that valley village in Borschtenstein, It never snows Unless the eviction lawyers are out of town And every year the millionaire tries to decorate a Christmas cat But gets nothing for his pains But bleeding scratches. EPILOGUE: While overnight miracles are rare outside of story books, Even those who learn slowly do learn. So keep checking the weather reports for Borschtenstein. If some Christmas it snows there You will know the millionaire has given up being wicked And has found a truer meaning Of Christmas. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ May you have the happiest Yule/Christmas/Hanukkah/Solstice/Whatever imaginable! Thomas G. Digby ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ first draft written 0115 hr 12/25/74 this version edited 2320 hr 12/14/86 ********************* HOW TO GET SILICON SOAPWARE EMAILED TO YOU If you're getting it via email and the Reply-to in the headers is ss_talk@bubbles.best.vwh.net you're getting the list version, and anything you send to that address will be posted. That's the one you want if you like conversation. There's usually a burst of activity after each issue, often dying down to almost nothing in between. Any post can spark a new flurry at any time. If there's no mention of "bubbles.best.vwh.net" in the headers, you're getting the BCC version. That's the one for those who want just Silicon Soapware with no banter. The zine content is the same for both. To get on the conversation-list version point your browser to http://bubbles.best.vwh.net/cgi-bin/mojo/mojo.cgi and select the ss_talk list. Enter your email address in the space provided and hit Signup. 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