Peter’s computer crashed last night. I don’t mean, crashed/reboot/you’ve lost the afternoon’s work you haven’t saved. I mean crashed/terminal. The computer has no more life: it is beyond all the revival systems 35 years of experience has taught us.
All right, I recognize it’s not up there with life’s Tier One challenges along with diagnosis of an incurable disease or the break up of a significant relationship. But it does belong a little higher up the list than the wash machine breaking down or burning the bacon.
As I was looking up a local contact for computer data recovery (also frequently sympathetically referred to as “disaster recovery”) I was remembering Google’s enthusiasm for the prospect of a brain implant that may one day soon enable one to access the internet merely by thinking about it.
I’m not kidding. There are people seriously thinking about how this can be done. Doctors already know how to annihilate traumatic memories that may be causing acute and ongoing distress. While this sounds quite benevolent, the potential possibilities also sound terrifyingly malevolent to me.
Already, having someone hack into my desk-top computer is disruptive, and losing my computer altogether can make me feel as if half my brain has been disabled. What if I have a brain implant that spreads the entire internet out before me as a mere thought? On good days I might start feeling like a genius. But what if somebody hacked into my brain?
No. I’ll keep my unpleasant memories, thank you. And I’ll stay with my old-fashioned computer.
And count it a small blessing when it crashes.