Lately I’ve found myself thinking about technology, which, I suppose, isn’t unusual since I’m constantly surrounded by it.

It’s amazing how quickly new developments become common place. Just the fact that most people (at least in the US) have their own vehicle, television, cell phone, and computer is pretty astounding when you think about it. We can move about great distances quickly (unless you’re stuck in LA traffc). We can directly communicate with people all over the world. We can store and listen to days and days worth of music on a pocket-sized device. We can see something happening almost instantaneous even though we’re thousands of miles away from the actual event. And yet when I see planes flying overhead, get a call on my cell phone, listen to music on my ipod, or watch a live news event on my computer, I’m rarely amazed by it. But if we could go back in time and bring someone from a mere two centuries ago to this present time, I think the things we see as commonplace would blow their minds. To them it’d be sci-fi made real. I’m not even sure how I’d explain half the stuff to them. Truth be told, I don’t even know how the half of it works. It’s all kinda freaky. And I really can’t imagine what things will be like 200 years from now. I often think it’ll be the same stuff we have now just better and more of it, but who knows? The future is a mystery.

For the most part, I’m extremely thankful for the technology we have today. There are so many positive improvements in education, communication, production, and (best of all) the quality of life. However, all too often, I think we are quick to accept new advances in technology as being beneficial without first questioning to find whether or not they’re actually harmful. Weapons are an obvious example. Sure, nuclear bombs and biological warfare may be incredibly effective, but who gets to decide when they should and shouldn’t be used? And who should be allowed to use them? How many innocent lives have they taken? I’m not anti-war, but I think our recent cold war is an example of how easily things can get out of hand. In a world like ours with few safeguards and little accountability, military technology can quickly become a nightmare for everyone.

We don’t even have to go to the battlefield to find the dangers of technology, we can find them in the office or even in the comforts of our own home. It’s great that we can make more products faster and of higher quality than ever before, but is more of everything really what we need? Will such things make us happy? Or will they make us malcontent, unable to be satisfied by our ever increasing desire for something more and better? Will a time come when too many people loose their jobs to computers? Or will technology continually provide new jobs for such people? Does technology make us spend our time more wisely, or enable us to waste more time? Heck, I could write a whole book about the negative impacts of entertainment brought about through technological advances. And I love being able to shop online, but just how easy has it become for someone’s assets or identity to be stolen? Technology helps fight crime but it also creates new opportunities for criminals.

Is technology the means or the end? And if it is the means then what is the intended end? Is it simply to make things faster and more productive? And for what? More money? Or is it designed to make the world a better place, to help people in ways we couldn’t help them otherwise? Technology is itself neutral. Its ethical value is determined by how and why we use it. We are so immersed in it, I’d say that it’s impossible for us to be completely objective about the subject. And yet, we must stop and consider what we’re doing and where the wave of technology is leading us. Are we heading toward a beach of paradise or a cliff of destruction? Lets not loose the forest for the trees or the computer for the microchip.

At the risk of breaking the mood, I’ll end this post with a rather humorous quote from one of my favorite authors of one-liners.

“If the Vikings were around today, they would probably be amazed at how much glow-in-the-dark stuff we have, and how we take so much of it for granted.”
-Jack Handey

I observed (ok, maybe “spied on” is a better phrase) two guys trying to break into their own home. I assume they must have locked themselves out somehow. They spent nearly half an hour taking turns in an attempt to climb through a small window without hurting themselves too badly. I’m sure any experienced thief would have laughed heartily had they seen it. Eventually, they figured out a solution that involved standing on a trashcan while one guy helps the other guy into a sitting position on the window sill so he can slide in. The whoop they let out when he finally made it in was classic. He spent a little while longer teasing the other guy acting as if he was just going to leave him outside. It was all quite amusing to say the least.
Oh, and happy Thanksgiving everyone!

With a sense of curious wonder I stare out the window at the night fog that has descended upon my street. Its shroud has transformed the landscape into a mysterious new world. Buildings loom in the distance like dark giants. Their monstrous bodies dotted with windows like eyes peering through the mist. Cars appear briefly from the foggy wall and pass quietly like ghosts back into the gray nothingness from which they came. Even light itself has been changed, taking on a shape and character of its own as it falls from the street lamps and projects from headlights, hitting minuscule water droplets, revealing their drifting presence. What secrets do the slowly floating mists conceal? What sorts of people dare traverse the damp streets on such a night as this? And what drives their blurred outlines to press on through the cloudy blackness? Are they devising unspeakably dark and sinister plans? Are they couriers bearing a message of great importance from some distant land? Or are they simply trying to make their way safely to the glowing warm comfort of their own home?

The fog himself is a great magician, his cold fingers dance through the air, veiling what he does not want you to see and morphing that which was commonplace into something new and extraordinary. By aid of the street lights he draws our attention to the things which we would have previously passed by without notice. Now we gaze upon them as if something unmoving and dead had begun to sway with life. But in the end his tricks are illusions as the light of the new day will burn away his magic, revealing that which we once again will perceive as normal, the way things ought to appear. The magician retreats to his hidden abode, waiting for the time when he may return once again to mystify our minds with his strange crafts.

As I step into the office I can tell it will be another normal, ordinary day.

I walk through the front doors and see the receptionist is talking with a rather large man who has a very small man siting on his shoulders, it appears to be a couple of new clients since I haven’t seen the likes of them before. After a brief good morning nod and a tip of the hat to the three of them, I step onto the escalator toward my desk on the second floor.

On the way up, I can already hear Gary hard at work. Very few employees (myself included) actually know the full details of what his job entails. He comes in and leaves at seemingly random times and works for unpredictable intervals. All I know is that while at work he types as hard and fast on his keyboard as possible, with almost no break. Just typing and typing right up to the moment when he gets up and leaves.

As I round a corner and pass by the Dev team I can tell there’s some kind of meeting going on. Apparently they’re in the process of some important decisions concerning a new feature for a program they’ve been working on. I overhear a snippet of their conversation, “Theoretically, it should work fine. However, I ought to let you know that there is the slight possibility that we’ll cease to exist.” A pause in the conversation follows as everyone contemplates the implications of this statement. Finally, another person responds, “Well, Tom that’s never stopped us before” and the moment’s tension is released as the whole group burst into laughter.

I set my backpack down at my desk and head towards the kitchen for a cup of joe. On the way there, I pass the resident polar bear and lion in the hallway. They don’t bother to look up as I pass them since they both seem to be content chasing their new toy; a small glowing object spinning around on the floor. They belong to the CEO who lets them roam around the place while he’s at work in his office. Usually they don’t bother you much, just don’t let them catch you with food. A few workers have been mauled in the past for not giving up their plates to the hungry pets.

In the kitchen there is a lower cabinet on the ground next to the refrigerator that, depending on the day, leads to some very interesting places. Most of the time it’s just a dark hole to a bottomless pit where we throw all our trash. Sometimes it opens to another person’s cabinet where we’ll we might find food from just about any part of world. Occasionally, it’ll open up to a place like the middle of the ocean, the Amazon, or downtown Boston. Once it even lead to a high-security prison. Fortunately, the polar bear caught all the escaping inmates before they could get very far. On Thursdays it leads to an alternate dimension, and not always the same alternate dimension either. It’s Thursday today and there’s a gurgling sound coming from inside the cabinet, so I do my best to avoid looking at it as I step around the lava fountain and pour some java.

On the way back to my desk I glance out the window to our stage and see the stunt man, Andre, revving up his motorcycle in preparation to jump off a ramp into a large container of gelatin. Behind him I can see the manager pacing back and forth and attempting to shout over the noise into the oversized phone she is holding, probably about the recent shipment mix-up where the company received one thousand hens instead of the desired one thousand pens. Boy was that a mess.

Just as I sit down at my desk and boot up the computer in preparation to crack the 37 page code of symbols that will unlock the doors to the inner chamber of the recently discovered tomb of Horus Khet, my coworker walks by and makes that all too familiar motion with his hands. He wants to play a quick game of Laser Dodge. I nod energetically. Khet will have to wait just a little while longer…

—

Alas, if only real work could be half as interesting as the imagination would allow. Working on video games isn’t nearly as exciting as it might at first sound. Then again, it is a job.

Speaking of imagination, check out The Superest. It’s one of the most creative sketch blogs I’ve yet seen.

I hope your day is filled with excitement.

Moving on can be a challenge, especially when you don’t know quite where you’re going or even if you’ve actually moved at all yet. Sometimes it seems like everyone else has already boarded at the station while I’m still waiting for my train to arrive, hoping against all odds that I didn’t somehow miss it.

Truthfully, I have almost no idea where my life is going right now and at the same time I feel like wherever it is going, it’s not getting there any time soon. You’d think I’d be used to it by now since that’s how the majority my life has transpired, and for the most part, I am used to it. But sometimes doubts creep in like water drops through a leaky roof. When people ask what my plans are for the future, what the next step is, I really don’t have an answer for them. Of course I want to get married, have a family, get a house, find a more stable work situation and all that good stuff but those evasive details, the where’s, when’s, how’s, and who’s all reside in a swirling vague mist known by many as the unforeseen future.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not unhappy about the whole thing but steering a ship through thick fog can be unnerving at times, you keep wondering if you’re about to run into a rock or iceberg along the way. While I may have an excellent compass and the perfect guide, whenever I look at the map I can clearly see the starting point and destination, but the stopping points along the way are all missing.

Sure, it helps to know where I’ve been, but it’d just be nice to see what’s up ahead every now and then. You know, a little motivation, something to look forward to; a waft of divine fragrance from the marriage supper or a reflected glint of light from those immense gates of pearl. Still, I’m not complaining, things are going well from where I’m standing and I should be grateful that I’m even standing at all. I’m just saying it’s not always easy, but then what worthwhile journey is?

Since I’ve already posted some comments on other books I’ve read, I figured, what the heck, why not do a little review each time I finish a book?

So, I recently finished Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. It was given to me as a gift from a friend last Christmas. I’d heard a bit of buzz about the book and I know a few people who really love it. Also, I’d seen one of the films from Bell’s NOOMA series. The film had a lot of excellent information about historical Jewish culture and its relevance to Biblical teachings, specifically dealing with the life of rabbis. However, its conclusion was more than just unsatisfying, it was, for lack of a better word, off. Still, my interest had been perked and I thought the book was worth a read.

Velvet Elvis is, ultimately, the story of a man reaching for God. In many ways he is able to grasp some important concepts, but there are also parts where I felt his reach came noticeably short of the truth.

Perhaps the best example of a not-quite-truth is when he equates faith to jumping on a trampoline and the doctrines of said faith to springs on the trampoline. He then goes on to show that you can take out any one spring and the trampoline still works just fine. It sounds good and fun at the outset. After all, who doesn’t love jumping on a trampoline? However, this illustration simply doesn’t hold true for most (if not all) major religions. If you remove some key doctrines, you remove the essence of the religion itself. If you throw out the teachings of Christ’s resurrection, God’s forgiveness of sins, or the need for repentance you are, in essence, “neutering” the Christian gospel (as Derek Webb puts it). And, if it is somehow possible to just take out key doctrines and still preserve the belief system, what of the arguments that Rob Bell’s book has been constructed upon? If statements such as “all truth is God’s truth” and “if the gospel isn’t good news for everybody, then it isn’t good news for anybody” are mere springs that can be removed without seriously reducing the integrity of the “trampoline” then Bell’s illustration can effectively nullify every idea presented in his book.

Furthermore, to show that faith is like jumping and less like guarding a wall, he makes the statement that you don’t need to defend the things you love, you only share them. So I guess that makes everyone who has fought to defend their beliefs, country, rights, or family a fool. If only they had shared the things they loved with others rather than stand up for such things when they were threatened. At least that’s what I’m getting from it.

However, despite some apparent flaws, Bell’s work isn’t without its share of redeeming qualities. He presents some new and interesting ways to look at old truths. He also offers support for some important ideas such as the argument that God’s truth isn’t contained solely in scripture. And, if nothing else, he’s done a good share of research into his subject and includes some great footnotes.

In the end, I’ll have to side with the critics on this one. While I think Rob Bell is a talented writer and a creative thinker, I wouldn’t look to his writings for sound theological advice.