The End Of Privacy. The Beginning Of Transparency.

It is becoming abundantly clear that our personal privacy has come to an end. Not through the information we willingly share in social media,  but in the information that is gathered about us. From our Web history to the GPS in our cars, targeted advertising, or searches; the list of our digital footprints is vast.

Nor is there any way to avoid using digital technology or do anything about the information gathered without our knowledge or consent. Big companies are simply too powerful to engage in privacy lawsuits.  Applicable digital privacy laws are not in place and are unlikely to catch up to the development of digital technology,  which surpasses our understanding of it.

Many are not aware that digital information is transmitted at 1/3 of the speed of light or that the stock market for example,  is virtually out of the hands of humans; many trades occur through computer algorithms, also known as microtrading or high frequency trading.

Another significant problem is that much of our most sensitive information (medical, financial) entered about us is handled far beyond the comprehension and training of those put in charge to store and protect it. Especially problematic is when the information entered relies on verbal communication or is entered incorrectly,  whether through human error or for unethical personal gain.

The revelation about the NSA should not have come as a surprise to anyone.  Technology is only as good or evil as the intent of those who use it. As it develops and we become increasingly globally connected, the speed of new technology advances faster than anyone can keep up with.

I do not foresee a Borg-like totalitarian system of control that so many are frightened of, but a more transparent future in the digital age. Ideally,  NSA like watchdogs will develop that will actually benefit the majority and monitor verbal and digital communication to help prevent crimes against humanity.

Predeterminism?

"Using defensive pessimism to harness anxiety and perform at your peak"

There is a book for everyone and everything.

Whether one has a positive or a negative outlook on life; does it make a difference?

Outsourced

Just as I thought I was "winning", they keep calling me back...

Local time: 9:30 pm

"Jennifer": May I speak to Racnaroth Cryptopeles?
Me: Who?
Jennifer: *giggles* Am I pronouncing that correctly?
Me: Sure, if you're looking for Racnaroth Cryptopeles.
Jennifer: We need a moderate payment of 1.50.
Me: If I pay a "moderate" one dollar fifty you'll stop calling me?
Jennifer: *GIGGLES HYSTERICALLY* Noooooooooou!!! A payment of $150 is needed.
Me: You realize that I cancelled your services 3 months ago?
Jennifer: *typing*
Me: Where are you calling from?
Jennifer: St. Louis, Ohio.
Me: They moved St. Louis to Ohio? No wonder...
Jennifer: *click*

Sigh.

Communicating With Cats

I used to consider myself a dog person. Then I ended up with cats. That is when the confusion set in.

According to scientific anthropological speculation, dogs are better at reading the facial expressions of humans, because they have a longer history with humanity.  Cats are allegedly more intelligent due to the fact that unlike dogs, who are pack scavengers, cats are lone predators that congregate into colonies when feral.  I have read several articles that wild cats rarely vocalize, while our manipulative domestic companions have learned to.

I speak science, some other languages, but mostly science. I can understand dogs, but the language I fail to master is cat.  This does not stop the self-proclaimed most intelligent species on the planet at attempting to communicate with clever cats on a daily basis.

Among one of my most miserable failures at translating Feline into English was a rescued Siamese, who looked like a grey alien crossbred with a vampire bat and sounded like the dissonant bag pipe of the cat world. According to those that love the breed, the emission of unearthly wails of despair were the Siamese equivalent of "talking" and did not require emergency exorcisms for demonic possession.

Random Siamese kitten. Not a Chihuahua.

My attempts to make first contact with the aliens in my home continue to this day.  They blink, I blink back a reassuring I come in peace. Their incessant meows evoke a conditioned repertoire of routine queries: You want food? Here you go. Not this food? You don't want food? You want to play? Want to chase the string or the ball? Neither? You want to be petted. Patted? I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT! Hey, where are you going?

Misunderstood, tail held high, they walk off. Before I question my sanity, I remind myself that many human conversations are equally inconclusive.