5 simple steps really, is what the video is all about, elaborating it in an interesting and refreshing way. The first few seconds might have you confused, but as the video progressed, understanding dawned and it’s actually really simple how mobile eased their way into your life.
It’s in your daily lives, your every action, encourages your likes and hobbies and certainly helps you ease it, and open you up to new possibilities.
Makes one wonder how we survived before doesn’t it?
We are depending more and more on technology-our smartphones, tablets- to do our daily little chores for us. Paying the utility bills, acting as our bank book and credit card, and even counting our numbers for us. (Yes, a calculator counts too)
Many are arguing that leaving these little, seemingly meaningless chores to technology are taking away the ‘human’ part of us, leaving us a smaller and smaller margin of ‘human’ things to do. Meanwhile the other group of people are saying it makes us more ‘human’, leaving menial chores that doesn’t require a human’s touch to, well, technology.
Even exams, essays and school work are gradually being graded by programs instead of humans. It saves time, and effort and cost. (Although important papers, like those you take to go to college, are still being graded by humans).
There’s also the Turing test, which is an experiment where several judges pose questions via a computer terminal, to several pairs of unseen correspondents, one a human “confederate,” the other a computer program, and attempt to discern which is which.
At the end, a certificate of the Most Human Human award will be given to the ‘Confederate’ if judges selected him/her as the most human among the chats they have.
Many are still considering and thinking about this, for everything has its plus and subtractions,and technology is not all bad, but the question still lingers, are we becoming more ‘human’? Or the opposite? What do you think?
“Why is this man smiling?”, the poster asks, and the movie it advertises, The Unknown Known, Errol Morris’ documentary about Donald Rumsfeld, provides the answer: because he is smart enough to know that we can’t get him, that his glib rhetoric, his pseudo-serious digressions into philosophy terrain elude both the interviewer’s and the audience’s scrutiny.
We watch him in shock and awe.
In the interviews Morris conducted with Rumsfeld he remains a far cry from being an enlightened elder statesman, with no signs of remorse or at least regret. But in the end, still, he is not entirely unsympathetic. His aspirations to be a master of words, his indulging in ambiguities, make him the antidote to the linear engineering mind of Robert McNamara, the other former secretary of defense of notoriety, also portrayed by Morris, in his 2003 masterpiece The Fog of War.
“Snowflakes,” Rumsfeld called the more than 20,000 memos he sent to this staff during his last tenure, and their terse pathos can sometimes seem tender and even cute. Unlike McNamara, an engineer who believed in rationality and scientific predictability, Rumsfeld is a sophist who doesn’t have much faith in such precious things as objective or absolute truth; and although not terribly self-aware, he is keenly aware of the irrationality of history and the unpredictable forces of human nature. His smile is firm but erratic, a mask put on by someone who deep down inside, buried under numerous rhetorical onion layers, is terrified by the insight that he may have ended up on the wrong side of history.
In his essay Angelus Novus, inspired by Paul Klee’s painting of the same title, the German writer and philosopher Walter Benjamin once wrote:
“This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such a violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.”
Oddly, Rumsfeld is in the eye of this storm, a conservative who has piled up wreckage after wreckage in the pursuit of progress. Reflecting on the incomprehensible brutalities and nihilism of war, melancholy may have been the appropriate response in the past century; in the 21st century, however, as George Packer points out in a recent piece on war literature by American soldiers who returned from Afghanistan and Iraq, it has to be irony.
McNamara, in retrospect, is a melancholic figure; Rumsfeld, on the other hand, is a post-modernist ironist, although—and that’s the sweetest irony of all—this might be unbeknownst to him.
That’s why he’s smiling.
(c) Photo credit: Beowulf Sheehan
The best way to stop homelessness is mindbogglingly simple: Give them homes.Housing The Homeless Saves Money—Here’s The Research That Proves It (via fastcompany)