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April 3rd, 2010 (09:19 pm)

I was reminded today of this:

Stories set in the Culture in which things went wrong tended to start with humans losing or forgetting or deliberately leaving behind their terminal. It was a conventional opening, the equivalent of straying off the path in the wild woods in one age, or a car breaking down at night on a lonely road in another.

The Player of Games, by Iain M. Banks, © 1989.

And this:

"I mean, we can contact Ankh-Morpork," said Vimes. After everything, he felt curiously cheered by this. It was as if a special human howl had gone up. He wasn't floundering around loose now. He was floundering on the end of a very long line. That made all the difference.

The Fifth Elephant, by Terry Pratchett, © 2000.

I wasn't floundering, and this isn't a story in which Things Went Wrong...but I had the nagging feeling that they might. I went to a presentation at Lincoln Labs this morning, and we were forbidden to bring in any electronics. Going without a cellphone feels very strange. No instant 911, no notification if, say, one of my parents had a heart a attack (it happened once, though it isn't likely to happen again any time soon), no looking up words for the kids. Very primitive. Very 1990.


Posted by: C. Virtue (cvirtue)
Posted at: April 4th, 2010 10:51 am (UTC)

And, interestingly, I did not feel at sea without mine.

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