Well, it’s another Labor Day weekend, and wife is watching Paladin. Interesting. I remember how I used to think, when they flashed his business card, how “Wire” was an unusual first name. Kidthink, I think.
Well, no matter, somewhere
along the line I began to understand just what that business card meant. Today the card would have said “email
Paladin” with an accompanying address.
Or, maybe it would have referenced a web site to go to, to find a
contact form (docs do this all the time—guess they don’t trust email.) I guess
a hundred years or so would give a person a range of options in the contact
department, right? Maybe in another
hundred years we might just voice our message to Paladin and expect an answer
whenever.
But wait—isn’t that something
“Alexa” might be able to handle today?
Goodness. Maybe in another hundred years we will just have to think
about contacting Paladin and our friend “Alexa” would take it from there. Then, again, maybe Alexa will be out of the picture
entirely, then, and all of us will automatically be in touch with whomever over
an all-overriding thoughtnet.
A good idea? Not in my book! Those messages from the WhiteHouse would
eliminate all hopes for having the least bit of independence in that thought
department—and the substitute for personal thought would be totally obnoxious
babble.
God help us! Another 4 years? God help us if this is to be our fate—in a
hundred years, or a hundred +/- days.
Trump? T-Rump?
Or (4 our of five ain’t bad, they say) just plain Rump.
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