While engaged in a spirited quarrel, a John
Wallace Road couple seem to have accidentally called the police on themselves.
Instead of a problem, a name and an address, the anonymous cell-phone call
received by JCSO dispatch on the afternoon of Oct. 3 offered only a gallery
seat at a rollicking marital dispute replete with angry accusations, vicious
oaths and bitter tears. Officers arrived at the phone’s billing address to find
tempers somewhat cooled. According to the red-eyed husband, he and his wife had
been fighting about getting divorced, but it wasn’t until the dust settled that
he noticed his wife’s cell phone lying open on the floor and thought it might
have been dialed by mistake. Contacted at work, the wife admitted they’d been
shouting and cursing each other but said she had no idea their performance was
broadcast live. Officers advised the husband that, when future storms threaten,
he’d best excuse himself from the premises, if only for his neighbors’ sakes.
After Smartphones
Anthropologists believe that wild grains were first domesticated about 11,000 years ago somewhere on the Indian subcontinent. It was a transformative development, allowing humans to give up foraging and start building something like civilization.
Agriculture was itself transformed some 8,000 years later with the invention of the plow circa 2,800 BC, a tool which made it possible for one farmer to feed many, and freed many to pursue new developments. Fast-forward 4,600 years to 1892, when Iowa farmer John Froelich invented the gasoline-powered tractor, a transformative development making it possible for one farmer to feed hundreds and prompting millions to cultivate new fields of endeavor. Just 125 years later it’s estimated that less than two percent of Americans are directly involved with agriculture, more than 60 percent of American farming is accomplished using hyper-efficient GPS-guided semi-autonomous tractors, and experts predict that fully autonomous combine harvesters will be feeding much of the country by 2025.
The quickening march of agriculture neatly illustrates something forward-thinkers and backward-thinkers alike have labeled “accelerating change,” a perceived principle by which the pace of technological change increases with each technological advance, and society is transformed apace. The better things get, the faster things get better, so to speak, and the more often we all feel like strangers in a strange land. The evidence for accelerating change is abundant and persuasive, and the principle works for just about everything.
One fine day in 1600, and presumably in between patients, English physician William Gilbert was messing around with magnets and coined the term “electricus” to describe the little-understood force that animated them. In 1886, Alexander Graham Bell wired electricus to a speaker and transformed communication over the telephone. Exactly 87 years later Motorola took the “sound telegraph” mobile, and the smartphone debuted just 34 years after that. It’s been a technological rocket ride like no other, and since 2007 the iPhone and its touch-screen brethren have transformed a lot more than communication. On the other hand, we’ve been limping along with most of our lives and much of the world at our fingertips for an interminable 21 years now, and it’s clear we’re overdue for some serious transformation. Industry analysts agree that smartphone innovation reached its peak at least two years ago, and lately manufacturers spend most of their time trifling with aesthetic tweaks while awaiting new developments that will point them in new and profitable directions.
Fact is, the next era of communication is well begun as the Internet of Things (IoT). It’s getting harder to buy any powered appliance these days that can’t be connected to the Cloud and manipulated through a smartphone, and the number and variety of IoT-capable devices is accelerating by leaps and bounds. But the IoT concept is less about having the ability to minutely control your physical and intellectual environments than about not having to. Within the Internet of Things, people don’t just talk to their car, their TV, their hot water heater and their latte machine, those things talk to each other, too, in concept forming a cooperatively self-directed bubble of all-but-autonomous comfort and convenience around their blithe human dependent.
The rub, of course, is that individual parameters of comfort and convenience must be occasionally communicated to the IoT by fingertips that might be more comfortably and conveniently employed doing something else. Happily, science is even now working hard to free us from the drudgery of touch-screen technology, and serious transformation is right around the corner.
First in the lineup is a next-generation virtual assistant of the Siri persuasion, only one contained in a disc about the size of a silver dollar strapped to your wrist, or possibly distributed throughout the beads of a stylish necklace, or maybe even sewn into the fabric of a garment. Possessing all the computing power of a smartphone, enhanced voice recognition software, seamless IoT connectivity and, it is expected, the ability to project a functioning keyboard onto any flat surface for your anywhere-typing pleasure, that hands-free cyber helper is merely the first dagger in the smartphone’s back.
Microsoft, Facebook and Google are all working hard to deliver the coup de grace, which is a headset capable of projecting detailed, three-dimensional images directly onto your retinas. No clunky helmet visors, these, but light and comfortable eyewear that won’t replace the world we see, but rather “augment” it by deftly overlaying images onto real life within the privacy of our own eyeballs. If, or rather when, they succeed, it could very well spell doom for anything with a screen, including your television set. Together, those two coming technologies should herald a truly transformative age of “augmented reality,” a hybrid realm occupying the twilit space between Nature and Technology. And before you get all weird about it, those drawing a paycheck on augmented reality’s account are quick to reassure that watching TV inside your head will “reduce technological distractions,” and that such a collision of the physical and digital worlds will most certainly result in “greater balance.”
More balance and fewer distractions sure would be nice, and one can only imagine the serene equilibrium that will reign once Elon Musk rolls out a retail version of Neuralink, an ultra-thin mesh implanted in the brain to provide a direct interface between Man and Machine. With such advancements on the near horizon, the smartphone doesn’t stand a chance. Even so, it’s difficult to feature just what kind of miraculous phone could one day supplant the one buried in your bean. There’ll be one, though, because the principle of accelerating change demands it.
Indeed, the latest in agriculture transformation is the robotic home farming system. Currently under development by FarmBot, the Genesis XL home farming system, for example, lets John and Jane Q. Self-Sufficient cultivate a wide variety of produce from the comfort of their couch. With a greenhouse in the back yard and squeaky-clean fingernails, they can simply drag-and-drop their wishes on a user-friendly app and then sit back while FarmBot brings in a bumper crop.
“It is not merely in the number of facts or sorts of knowledge that progress lies,” pronounced American urban designer Daniel Burnham, addressing a conference of English thinkers on the subject of accelerated change in 1910. “It is still more in the geometric ratio of sophistication, in the geometric widening of the sphere of knowledge which every year is taking a larger percentage of people. Our pace of development having immensely accelerated, our sons and grandsons are going to demand and get results that would stagger us.”
Prepare to be staggered. As the interval between transformative technological breakthroughs halves and halves again, many learned people conversant on the topic calculate that “technological singularity” will be achieved not later than 2045. For those less conversant on the topic, technological singularity is the point at which technology becomes autonomously self-improving, sparking a runaway cycle of instant upgrade and throwing human society into a perpetual state of transformation.
Some folks think technological singularity will be great. Some others think it will be Hell on Earth. A lot of folks dismiss the hypothesis out of hand. They all agree on one thing, though. From here on in we’re all strangers in a strange land.
Rumpled bedding has woman fretting
A woman on Kings Valley Drive summoned deputies at about 7:30 a.m. on Feb. 4 to investigate an unauthorized nap. The night before, she explained, she’d left the house empty, the garage wide open and the doors unlocked for about 7 hours while she recreated elsewhere with friends. Finally retiring to her bedroom at about 3:30 a.m., she was alarmed to discover her pillow and bedspread suspiciously arrayed on the floor as if someone had snoozed on them. Fearing an intruder, she called a friend and together they determined that they were alone in the house and nothing appeared missing or disordered. Even more reassuring, the several large dogs that inhabit the residence and which had been locked in that very bedroom throughout her absence seemed completely unruffled. On reflection, she allowed the possibility that the dogs may have pushed the bedding to the floor. Since the dogs aren’t talking, the case is closed.
Cupidity
Concealed by a fern in the Best Western bar,
The hunter surveys the speed-dating bazaar
And lonely hearts gathered from near and afar
At the cowboy-chic watering hole.
Keen predator’s eye swiftly lights on a mook
In ill-fitting Wranglers and crooked peruke,
His un-ironed Polo the color of puke
And physique like a telephone pole.
Directly across from this charmless Don Juan
Droops a bland Aphrodite, more pigeon than swan,
A stammering wreck with too much makeup on.
The huntsman has chosen his prey.
Reaching into his quiver he draws out a dart,
Contagion a-drip from its pointiest part,
And shoots it straight into Don Juan’s timid heart
Then does Aphrodite that way.
“If you’ll pardon my sayin,’” the man says, distressed,
Blood suddenly boiling with amorous zest,
“Our two-minute date has been simply the best!
Let’s us be a pair, you and I.”
Deep passions aflame, she replies with a sigh,
“Like a chocolate fountain that reaches the sky,
I am your sweet gal, now, and you’re my sweet guy
Dipping pretzels as one till we die!”
The hunter, triumphant, retreats to the bar,
Celebrating the kills with a cold PBR,
And flipping a dime in the bartender’s jar
Gives his diaper a hitch reloads.
That’s just how it goes on Saint Valentine’s Day,
With violent cherubim firing away
In savage attacks from behind the buffet
Making storybook princes from toads.
Go dog, go – local mushers and their pets race for the joy of it
In spite of last weekend’s stormy weather – or perhaps because of it – thousands of Coloradans flocked to the high country to play in the snow. Sure, the great majority went to ski, but there’s more to winter in the Rocky Mountains than standing in lift lines and paying way too much for poor rations. On Saturday and Sunday, there was also the Silver City Sled Dog Classic, the last major dog sled race of the year and one of the season’s best-kept secrets.
Despite the sport’s visual appeal, precious few spectators turned out for the Classic – somewhat surprising in light of most Coloradans’ fondness for winter activities and the love all right-thinking folk have for dogs. On the other hand, the sporting grounds are a bit off the beaten track.
Tradition places the Classic in the long, narrow valley at the entrance to Camp Hale, which is often a busy place in winter, though not obviously so. Once home to the illustrious 10th Mountain Division, it’s now primarily a domain of deer, foxes and solitude resting in grand isolation amid the peaks and pines of White River National Forest about halfway between Leadville and Minturn. Nordic skiers, folks on snowshoes, even a handful of snowmobiles can do little to disturb the peace in that alpine fastness. Incredibly, neither could the 200 cheering people and at least twice that number of tightly-wound and extremely vocal dogs who traveled to Camp Hale from all over the Mountain West.
Though it’s not generally known, the region between Bailey and Evergreen is a hotbed of mushing activity. “We hide well,” says Debra Su Stephens who, with her husband Mark, has been driving huskies for 15 years. “There’s probably 30 mushers living within 20 miles of Conifer.” In the interest of clarity, it should be stated here that dog sled racing is referred to as “mushing” by its practitioners, a term linguists believe derives from the French word “marche,” which means something like “march” or “onward” or “move your tail, you lazy mutt.”
In a sprawling fenced compound on their 36 wooded acres off Pleasant Park Road outside Conifer, the Stephens see to the safety, health and happiness of no fewer than 41 purebred Siberians and 6 Alaskan huskies. If that sounds like a lot of dogs, consider that the number is down from the 72 they owned a few years back and a fraction of the hundreds that have passed through their lives in the last 15 years. “The average around here is probably 20 dogs,” Debra Su says, “and I’d like to get it down to about 30, which would be plenty for racing.”
It could take a while to reach that goal. While many of the dogs are effectively retired from racing, they can look forward to several years of graceful retirement and, when they die, they’ll be buried on the property beneath hand-painted stone markers. Though bred and trained to pull a sled, they’re pets, plain and simple. “I always keep the older ones in the house at night,” Debra Su says, “and when it’s cold, I’ll bring in some of the younger ones, too.”
Always dog-people, the Stephens weren’t always mushers, or especially husky-happy, for that matter. “I accidentally bought a husky in 1985,” says Debra Su, by way of explanation. Immediately charmed by the creature’s intelligence, spirit and good nature, by 1990 she and Mark had several more of the variety, a sled, and a new reason to look forward to the season’s first snow.
Inside their home – an original frontier log cabin dating to 1868 – the walls are virtually papered with everything husky. A skillful Siberian breeder, Debra Su proudly displays pictures of both her award-winning show dogs and particularly successful racing animals. Such is the reputation of the Stephens’ kennel, “Snow Runner Siberian Huskies,” that 25 of their dogs are now in the hands of Alaskan mushers preparing for the sport’s main attractions.
Racing at the Stephens’ level isn’t cheap, though. Providing a high-protein diet to 47 dogs costs 600 bucks a month. Add to that the price of nutritional supplements, veterinary bills, travel expenses, contest entrance fees and equipment costs and their hobby – make that passion – sets the Stephens back in the neighborhood of $17,000 dollars a year. The Stephens are fortunate that their business, Stephens & Co. Building Services, provides the wherewithal to keep their animals in kibble. “We sponsor ourselves,” Debra Su said. “We’re lucky, that way.”
Given the price tag, one might think bringing home ribbons and trophies is job-one. In fact, for the Stephens and the other members of Colorado Mountain Mushers – one of two principal mushing leagues in the state – the animals are top priority. “It’s all about the dogs,” Debra Su says. “I love each and every one them, and all the mushers I know are the same. Some people think we beat them; that we’re mean to them. But nobody takes better care of dogs than a musher.”
And not just their own dogs. When the High Meadow and Snaking fires threatened homes and lives throughout large areas of the foothills, the Stephens put their dog truck to work transporting hundreds of domestic animals out of the fire zones, and recruited many of their fellow mushers to do the same. In the process, they founded Animal Evac Volunteers, a nonprofit group composed largely of sled dog racers and dedicated to keeping animals out of harms way during emergencies. “Because we’re already equipped to move and board large numbers of animals,” Mark says, “mushers are the logical ones for the job.”
The truth is, Colorado’s top mushing purse wouldn’t buy breakfast for a decent sized kennel. The real attractions are the excitement of the race, the camaraderie of fellow mushers, and the majestic beauty of Colorado’s wild places. “It’s a very family-oriented sport,” Mark says, “and mushers are the best group of people you’ll ever want to meet.” And, while the Stephens’ operation runs into money, a person can easily break into the sport on a shoestring. “All you need to get started is one dog and a pair of skis,” he says, “or three or four dogs and a second-hand sled.”
Just ask Dick Nichols of Bailey. His 6-dog team is composed entirely of older animals he rescued from local animal shelters. “They’ll never win anything,” Nichols said, “but they like to race and it’s a lot of fun for me, too.”
Next time: It’s soooo on…