Cyber-souls in the age of human automatons

It’s a sign of the times: People are becoming dehumanized, and machines are increasingly human.

As for the dehumanized part of the equation, little needs to be said. The average American watches four hours of television per day. ‘Nuff said.

But machines, computers especially, are filling the void. In fact, they have more personality to them than a lot of people do.

This came to mind a couple of days ago when I ordered a new computer. My old one is getting old and cranky. I suspect he forgets things. He’s getting weak, too; sometimes I open a few too many files and he struggles under the weight, slowing to a crawl.

Increasingly he falls down entirely, crashing the operating system and often times sending my hard work out into the cyber-ether where it vanishes, never to be seen again.

My computer is, in a sense, a trusted old hunting dog that has started peeing on the carpet.

So earlier this week I whipped out the credit card and bought the latest, greatest, whiz bang computer, which will no doubt be obsolete by the time I get the thing hooked up and running. I started wondering where I’ll put my old computer (I’m still using the old one to write these words). There’s a corner of the office where he can sit, I suppose, and I can power him up once or twice a week to keep him alive. At least that’s what I tell him I’ll do. But I know I’ll eventually neglect this old friend, the dust will gather, and the memories of our good times will recede into the dim shadows of my memory.

I can’t be the first person in this position. In fact, I think we need a cyber graveyard, with little headstones, so we can give a dignified resting place to our computers.

Have you ever found yourself besieged by morons, dullards, and bozos? Sometimes–no matter how hard to try to avoid them–they manage to pin you down (they do, after all, have the benefit of superior numbers). If you have a notebook computer with you, though, you can sometimes get the thing fired up and get some work done, thus staving off the brain atrophy that would result from the corrosive influence of that vast, growing confederacy of dunces. There’s a lot more going on in the brain of a Pentium chip than there is in the brain of the guy who insists on telling you all about his dart team.

Computers aren’t the only devices with personalities, of course. Cars are people, too. They have moods, don’t they? Ever notice how much better your car runs after you wash it? There’s no mechanical reason for that. No, the only conceivable reason is: gratitude.

So–go ahead–cuss at your computer. Bad mouth your car. They’ll hear you, and they’ll get back at you. I’m convinced they’ve got little souls. Indeed, in era when people seem dull, repetitive, mechanical, and uninspired, it’s nice for computers to fill the void and keep the creative and intellectual wheels turning.