I don't know how old this joke is, but the lesson in it holds true.

There was a flood. A man managed to make it to his roof which was above the floodwaters - for now. Someone came by in a small motorboat that had somehow managed not to be swept away and offered the man a ride to a safer place. The man refused, saying "The Lord will save me."

The rising waters were starting to reach the eves of the house when a fellow in a larger motorboat arrived and offered a ride to a safer place. Again the man refused, saying "The Lord will save me."

The water was well up the roofline when a helicopter appeared and a rescue offered. Once again the man refused, saying that "The Lord will save me." It was only minutes later that the raging flood carried the house off its foundation and crumpled it into debris, drowning the man.

At the pearly gates, the man inquired as to what had happened since surely God would have provided. "He sent two motorboats, and a helicopter. What were you waiting for?!"

My take: Divine intervention may seem appealing, but technology is far more reliable.

This cartoon makes a good point.

Current Mood: amused
Current Music: The Future Isn't What It Used To Be - Minstrosity

I seem to be missing the magic, somehow. I don't mean the stuff of fantasy novels. I mean the sense of wonder. The "Wow, how is that done?!" inspiration of curiosity. Or just awe that something can happen at all, whether natural or manufactured. As a kid, the world seems full of that sort of thing. As an adult, well, the world seems a less interesting place.

Some is probably apathy. There are some things that are probably pretty fantastic, but I just really don't care much about them. The purpose they serve doesn't interest me.

More seems to be the problem of knowing the magic trick. Once explained, it isn't "magic" anymore. There are several quotations about technology and magic. "Any sufficiently advance technology is indistinguishable from magic." But once you understand it, you can distinguish. And that seems to remove a bit more than a bit of mystery. Maybe it's the "familiarity breeds contempt" thing, except not so much contempt as taking for granted.

What an average person going about an ordinary life today can do was at one time only the most fantastic tale...

While I slept, multiple servants saw to it that I was safe and comfortable. Some kept watch to warn me lest a fire break out. Others were ready to alert me if I was at risk being poisoned. I was woken up this morning by a tireless household servant who not only woke me at the proper time, but then proceeded to tell me the news of the day. I woke up to a reasonably comfortable house despite sub-zero (F) outdoor temperatures, for another servant tended the fire. Yet another kept a supply of water hot so I could bathe in comfort. Later, still another servant had seen to it that there was ice ready for my water. And all the while bright light was available without smoke or soot, though the sun had yet to rise. Before I left the house, I conversed, if only briefly, with a person in New Zealand. And then another in Australia. When I did leave the house I had more help. A door opened for me with me hardly expending any effort at all. And I then had the power of 120 horses to carry me to where I directed, at incredible speed, for covering a mile in under a minute is quite easily possible.

This fantastic life of ease is hardly rare. It is not a thing reserved for the rich or the noble. This is just another day, like many others. Mundanely living a life where the once fantastic is routine. Let me retell that, in normal terms, though I expect everyone who read it worked it out already, since it is so ordinary.

I sleep in a house with smoke alarms. Also there are a couple carbon monoxide/fuel gas alarms. There is a gas furnace and water heater as well. That the house has electricity should go without saying. The clock radio woke me up and I took a shower. Later I went to the refrigerator and got some ice and water, before getting on the net for little bit. On my way to work I drove a small car, and I used a garage door opener.

Now maybe you say, "Aha, you do have that wonder, or you wouldn't have written that earlier paragraph back there." Perhaps, but I have to think about it. And there seems to be something lacking. I feel like when I encounter something new, I'm at too much risk of asking "What good is it? Who'd bother with that crap?" rather than "How does it work? Is there something I could do with this? What hasn't been done with it yet, but should be?" That's the part that bugs me. Things too often seem automatically dull, or worse, pointless.

Perhaps knowing where the magic went isn't all that important, but another question certainly is. And that is, "How does one get the magic back?"

Current Mood: blah
Current Music: Someone's test meter beeping.