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 #154 New Moon of July 14, 2007 Contents copyright 2007 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. ********************* As I write this portion, a couple of days before the issue is actually due, I notice another article in the paper about the Summer of Love back in 1967. Has it really been forty years? Part of me waxes nostalgic, but then I notice another article, or perhaps a Web page, with a list of news events of that time: Lots of riots and protests and reports of police brutality. I'd evidently been looking at my memories of those times through rose-colored glasses. I had sort of forgotten that for many it was a time of troubles, of living in fear. But it was also a time of optimism and faith that together we could create a better world. And indeed it was a time of profound changes. Now we are in the midst of another time of changes. But this time, instead of flowers in their hair, the stereotypical agents of change are wearing pocket protectors and strong eyeglasses. And instead of music with strange-sounding sometimes-incomprehensible lyrics, they're writing something most would see as even more incomprehensible: Computer code. Yes, computers existed back in the Sixties, but they were big expensive tools of the Establishment. The Flower Children viewed them more as engines of oppression than a means of liberation. That changed in the final decades of the century with the rise of the personal computer. Now, what with the Internet, the World Wide Web, and the likes of Google and Wikipedia, we are in another time of profound change. What to me seems most significant about the changes now underway is that it has become much easier for people with non-mainstream needs and interests to find one another. At the same time, geography is becoming less and less of a barrier to communication. Instead of (or perhaps in addition to) communities based on geographic proximity, we are forming communities based on common interests. Of course such communities of interest have long existed, even back in the days when the only means of long-distance communication was messages written on paper. But back then they were the exception. Now they may be becoming the norm. And we are starting to see the dim outlines of a stage beyond that, where one's physical surroundings become even less relevant as we spend more and more of our lives in virtual worlds of our own making. Who knows where that may lead us? ********************* In the process of making some decision between two alternatives I was reminded of the old custom of saying "He loves me, he loves me not ..." while pulling petals off a flower. The outcome depends on whether the flower has an odd or even number of petals. Are there species for which that number varies randomly? If you use a species that always has the same number of petals then what's the point? Barring some odd happenstances like one petal falling off the flower before you get it, you'll always know the result before you start. ********************* Speaking of cliches and expressions and such, has anybody here ever actually shot fish in a barrel? Is it really as easy as the expression would indicate? Assuming live fish in a barrel full of water (with the top open to allow access), it may not be as easy as it sounds. For one thing, the way water refracts light may throw your aim off, even if the water doesn't deflect the bullet. And live fish are moving targets. On the other hand, no matter how bad your aim is a sufficiently powerful round may generate enough of a shock wave in the water to stun the fish. Then you just grab them as they float to the surface. So shooting fish in a barrel may indeed be as easy as it's cracked up to be. It may even be easier than shooting sitting ducks. Whether either is as much fun as a barrel of monkeys is probably a matter of personal taste. ********************* There's a place not far from here that rents out construction machinery. They have a big yard full of fork lifts and backhoes and such. The yard has always been fenced, but they've recently added what looks like an electric fence, with signs proclaiming "7000 VOLTS" in English and Spanish. I'm wondering how real that electric fence is. I didn't notice any obvious conclusive evidence that it was fake, but parts of it were kind of questionable. There were a few places, mainly around gates, where the supposedly charged wire was threaded through holes in what looked like wooden dowels rather than hung from insulators. There were things that looked like insulators where the wires turned corners and such, but they didn't look like high-voltage insulators. I kind of doubt the ability of the system to sustain seven thousand volts, especially when it rains. In addition, I have questions about the legal aspects of the whole thing. What if, for example, a child were to poke a stick or a metal rod or some such in through the chain-link outer fence and get shocked? Litigation would be a definite possibility. So I'm inclined to believe it's fake. But then again, there's a chance it may be real, designed and installed by people ignorant of the finer points of electricity and safety and building codes and such. Either way, I don't plan on finding out by first-hand experience. ********************* Something reminded me of a movie I saw many years ago. I forget what movie it was, but it was based on the life of Jesus. There was one scene where some king or some such was spouting off about how powerful he was. For every man Jesus had healed, he had maimed dozens. He had killed many more men than Jesus has raised from the dead. And so on. Thus he was way more powerful than this upstart Jesus person. He wasn't giving credit to an extremely powerful silent partner: Entropy. When you break, kill, or destroy something you're merely hastening a process that would have happened sooner or later anyway. If, on the other hand, you're trying to repair, heal, or restore something, you're working against entropy. And entropy always wins in the long run, at least in universes like this one. It's probably not a conscious decision, but if you're seeking ways to gain control over your little corner of the world, what better way to do it than to ally yourself with this invincible force that lets you take all the credit. ********************* All that talk about violence and killing and such reminds me of something that may have just been coincidence or may have been something more. I went to a Heather Alexander concert a few days before Christmas of whatever year it was (I don't recall exactly). Toward the end I was feeling all mellow and ready for the holidays. Then she closed with "March of Cambreadth". That song is from the viewpoint of warriors about to go into battle. It has a repeated line that the audience is supposed to join in shouting: "How many of them can we make die!" I didn't feel that kind of battle cry was appropriate to the mood that had been established up to that point. It definitely wasn't the type of mood I wanted to be in for the winter holidays. So I just sort of sat there while pretty much everybody else joined in shouting that line. Then the concert was over and we all went our separate ways. End of story? Possibly so, but possibly not. A few days later I heard that a young woman I know from local fandom had been mugged. And if I'm recalling the details correctly, it happened just a few hours after the concert. And yes, she'd been there. I recall seeing her in the audience. She wasn't hurt, and the cops caught the culprits within hours. They plea-bargained or something, so there wasn't much in the way of a trial. So in a sense it wasn't that big a deal. But it did get me to wondering: Was this sequence of events just coincidence, or did some of that violent battle-cry energy from the concert have something to do with it? ********************* I recently had occasion to email the landlord about problems with the dumpster. In the email I referred to the company that handles the dumpster as "the garbage people". After I had sent it I noticed that that phrase sounded like something from a cheesy low-budget horror movie from the 1950's or 60's. I can almost see it, in black and white with a title something like "Attack of the Garbage People". Perhaps some mad scientist is cleaning out his lab and puts a bunch of bottles of assorted chemicals in the dumpster. The bottles break on the way to the landfill and the chemicals start bringing the surrounding garbage to life. The process takes a while, so nobody notices anything out of the ordinary until a bunch of vaguely humanoid monsters tunnel their way up out of the landfill and start terrorizing the neighborhood. As is common with such things, these monsters are immune to most weapons, but they do have one weakness. For a while all seems lost until one of the good guys figures out that one weakness, or stumbles upon it, or something, whereupon the monsters are vanquished. Life then gets pretty much back to normal, except for some hints of the possibility of a sequel. ********************* This summer marks the sixtieth anniversary of certain mysterious events at Roswell, New Mexico. In other words, flying saucers and space aliens as we know them have just turned sixty years old. Of course people had been seeing strange things in the sky and meeting strange not-quite-human beings for centuries, or even millennia before that. But back then such things were generally thought to be the work of angels or devils or witches or the like, not visitors from other worlds in our universe. Yes, there had also been fiction written about beings from other worlds before the Roswell events, but those stories were presented as fiction, not supposedly true accounts. That doesn't necessarily mean that that's what those mysterious apparitions really are, if they are any one thing at all. But that's the current way the public, or at least that segment of the public that believes in them, seems to want to think of them, at least for now. ********************* Take Us to your Poets I came upon them by a lonely road Deep in the wilderness With something strange hovering overhead. They'd learned my language, not important how: "Standard procedures, like hundreds before; no big deal." But they did have a favor to ask. "A favor? Like taking you to our leader?" "Your leader? Eventually. We should exchange assurances of good faith, Agree on ground rules, mark the traffic lanes, Stuff like that. All quite necessary. But there's plenty of time for attending to that, And we have more urgent needs. So take us to your poets, Your dreamers, Your dancers in the moonlight. Those your leaders cannot speak for Because they make their own worlds No others can invade or conquer." (awkward pause) "Uh, ... that's all well and good, But not quite what I was expecting. Maybe first I should take you to our scientists?" "Your scientists? Eventually. We should cross-check our knowledge against yours, Finding where each can fill the other's gaps And what each can learn from the other. But there's plenty of time for attending to that, And we have more urgent needs. So take us to your poets, Your dreamers, Your dancers in the moonlight. Those the physical cannot limit Because they see beyond beyond And do not stop at 'That can't be'." (awkward pause) "Uh, ... that's all well and good, But not quite what I was expecting. Maybe your ship needs something? Our ship? Eventually. We are a little low on fuel And before we leave your world Certain items will want minor repairs. But there's plenty of time for attending to that, And we have more urgent needs. So take us to your poets, Your dreamers, Your dancers in the moonlight. For we are dangerously low on dreams And need to relight our inner fires Without which all worlds are dark and empty." Thomas G. Digby entered 1635 hr 4/11/92 format 14:02 12/22/2001 ********************* 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. 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