This got me thinking further. I'd be willing to bet that a bat can calculate about as well as a computer. A bunch of bats would have quite impressive skills. What I'd like is to have a bat colony in my house, providing all the processing power I'd need and, at the same time, keeping the house free of mosquitoes. I'm sure it would be much more reliable than Sluggo, and there'd be a bonus in all the guano I could collect for the garden. So, somebody needs to invent some sort of wireless connection between bats and computer peripherals, and we can get rid of the damned boxes. Just plug the monitor and keyboard and mouse and drives into a power source, and let the bats take care of the processing. The perfect solution, aside from the occasional case of rabies.
I've celebrated Independence Day by turning on the air conditioner. What could be more American than using up vast amounts of (largely imported) energy merely to make myself a bit more comfortable? I feel terribly patriotic because of it, and truly grateful to all those who have died for the United States -- all those Indians, for example. If they hadn't died, we wouldn't even be here. We'd have to be in
Well, the day is almost over, now, and I've heard hardly a boom from anywhere in town, and no sirens. I guess we've gotten through another Glorious Fourth without some patriotic scofflaw torching the place. I think I'll send the day off in style, with a bit of thoroughly American dissent in the form of the following verse. Although it dates from the 1950's, the fact that the more things change, the more they stay the same, keeps it curiously timely.
by Donald Petersen
Those days were like the country's politics:
As hot as hell and full of nasty tricks.
Women passed by with almost nothing on;
All things were joggled in the noonday sun.
Six days a week one labored to compete
With those who slaved like zombies in the heat:
"Jesus, I guess we're in it now for life,
The cat, the baby and the pregnant wife
Are paying for the world's mismanagement.
Sun pounds the roof but they are innocent --
While far away a foul-mouthed senator
Rages and snorts upon the Senate floor,
Reviling men and laws, and all the while
(His mouth contorted with a cynic smile),
Drunk and enamored of his posturing.
Oh, say, Sow-ee, Sow-ee, of thee we sing,
Our patriotic pig, our cornball king."