WHITBY FREE PRESS. WEDNESDAY, APRIL 2. 1986 PAGE 5 "I have sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility again8t every form of tyranny over the mind of man." - Thomas Jefferson THE CROW'S NEST by Michael Knell Ho Hum. I don't know what I'm going to write about. Life has been calm of late. Nothing much moves me to anger or even indifference. So, with your kind permission, I would like to take a little time today to heap scorn, contempt and ridicule on what I consider some fairly silly ideas. "VIOLENCE NEVER SOLVED ANYTHING" I get a charge out of kindly, well intentioned people (often, bless their hearts, mothers) who tell their children that violence never solved anything. Every time I hear that I'm tempted to remind that person of the fate of the Czecks, Finland, the Dodo bird, and the Passenger Pigeon. I would say that violence had a definite role in what happened to them. Raw.naked force has resolved more disputes between men and nations than has any other method. Isn't it better to tell our children that one fights only when there is no other choice and that they shouldn't get involved in scraps with other kids in the neighbourhood? "THE BEST THINGS IN LIFE ARE FREE" What a lot of hogwash! I don't know who dreamt this one up. I don't know of anything in life that is literally free. Life itself isn't free. A baby and his mother purchase that precious life only after many hours of struggle and agony. In or- der to be truly successful, a writer or a ballerina must spend a lifetime of devotion and blood and sweat and tears. The best things in life, even love and liberty aren't free. Both are purchased with great sacrifice. If you don't believe me about the former, think about the most successful marriages you know. Both partners, I bet, work very hard at that relationship. About the latter, if you don't believe me, visit the Cenotaph. Readthe names inscribed on it and you will know the price of liberty. The lièst things in life must be purchased with something other than money. In fact, engravings of dead Prime Ministers and living Queens cannot purchase anything truly worth having. If the man who first committed those words to our collective memories was striving to tell us this, he gave us a glimpse at an im- portant truth. That is despite the fact that the literal meaning of his words are completely and utterly false. "THE POWER OF PRAYER" Those of you who join me here each week (my word, this is beginning to sound like a crummy talk show) realize that I have some qualms about religion. Well, one of the items that has always perplexed me is the power of prayer. It seems to me a fairly silly notion that an all-powerful, all-knowing God can be swayed by the prayers of a self-centered, neurotic human being. I also think it is pretty conceited that a human being thinks he can sway the opinion of such an all-powerful, all-knowing God by getting down on his knees and snivelling like a spoiled child. In fact, the only prayer I've heard that makes any sense at ail to me is the Our Father. It's the only one where we don't ask for anything more complex than forgiveness for our sins and our daily bread while acknowledging the supremacy of God. Most others I've heard are nothing in comparison. "HELLO, I'M FROM OTTAWA. I'M HERE TO HELP YOU." This one needs absolutely no explanation from me. "IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS" If anybody has ever told you that, then you know why I think it's a silly idea and deserves to have scorn and ridicule heaped upon it. This dumb idea normally refers to a present. Have you ever gotten a present that is completely worthless (like the purple and green hula shirt your favorite aunt got you for your last birthday) and felt compelled to smile and give half- hearted gratitude, because it's the thought that counts? Damn right, it's the thought that counts. But only the right thought. If someone buys you a tacky present, your feelings are hurt and you're a little disappointed in the giver. So the thought that counts is not that of the giver, but of the receiver. So, the next time someone tells you it's the thought that counts, tell them to go jump in a lake. These are just some of the silly notions that I take every possible opportunity to heap scorn upon. Sometimes, silly notions are not as annoying as people who come up to you and say: "It's none of my business, but..." or "If you want my advise..." The instant someone completes either of those phases in your presence is a clear signal to stuff a cork or other large object in their mouths and show him or her the door. While I'm at it, the other expression that annoys me is "Have a nice day". I've yet to meet anyone who means it. Or how about "How are you?" Tell, me, do you really care? But you want to know something? I'm guilty of saying them myself. On a final note. Silly notions should have scorn, ridicule and contempt heaped upon them. If we do so, and do so often enough, maybe they will fall into disfavor and the human race will be improved thereby. After ail, it wasn't until this century when knowledge and science finally convinced most human beings that superstition was a silly notion that prevented them from achieving their full potential. So, the next time you come across a silly notion, attack it, stamp it out and laugh at it. We'll ail be better off because of if. WITH OUR FEET UP By Bill Swan Three years ago when I bought my first com- puter, a friend took me aside and warned me: "Junk it now. Buy a quill to write with; count with pebbles in an earthen jar. Save your sanity." I looked him in the eye. "Your fears are those of a plodder," I told him. "The computer is the wave of the future and I'm gonna ride that wave." Some wave. Back then, in those days of antiquity three full years ago, the computer was the answer to our dreams. Just think: in one box small enough to fit into a briefcase, I bought a machine which would: 1) Play games; 2) Write stuff on television screen; 3) Play more games; 4) Write more stuff on the screen; 5) Etc. All of that, mind you, for under $500. When I took the device home, my wife looked at it suspiciously. Wives have a way of staring down a machine. I won't be sexist and suggest it is an inborn trait. "Can it thaw hamburger?" she asked. No, I said, but it can add real good. "Can it cook vegetables in four minutes?" No, I said, but it plays a mean game of Ghost Gobbler. That almost did it. For several weeks she was hooked until her PacMan finger acted up. But that's another story. But so negative about computers was she that I felt it not the right time to confide that low, low price included only the basics. I mean, that you also needed a $600 color television to see what the computer was doing seemed a complexity too mechanical for her mind to grasp. That we also needed a $80 tape recorder, $40 worth of cassette tapes and a $600 printer also seemed not worth mentioning. Especially since printers don't cook like a microwave, either. The trick, I learned, was to keep borrowing equipment from other computer freaks. Wives get so confused by printers and disc drives and cables and stuff that they just plain lose track of what is temporary and what is weighing down on the VISA But enough. Back to my friend and his warning. "I've been through it," he said. "Five years ago I paid $5,000 for a computer that was supposed to do anything I wanted. Which it would, but no one ever wrote software for it, the company went out of business and I'm stuck with a machine worth diddly squat." "But that won't happen to me," I swore. "['11..." "Sure," he said. "Sure you will." Well, I didn't. A year ago I sold off the $1,500 com- puter - the original $500 had swollen mysteriously - complete with printer, monitor and software. For $450. You see, there was this neat machine that would do so much more. Why it came with dual floppy discs and 640,000 bytes of memory and the potential for future upgrade to hard disc. Translated into English that for $3,000 - plus $500 for the new printer we would require - I could upload floppies right inthe privacy of my own den. Why, when I told my wife about this she was ec- static. Uploading floppies, she said, had been her priority ever since she gave up Ghost Gobbler. She was so excited about the possibilities that I dared not tell her that with this new machine one could also upload floppies and play chess. Too much joy could strain even a young, healthy heart. That was a year ago. Now I'm perfectly happy with this machine - I use it each week to type out this column andit does a neat job, most of the time. Ex- cept when the printer's not working. Or the CPU overheats and sends the printer into an error state. The repairman says that'll be all fixed up in another three, four weeks. But I was in a computer show room the other day. And do you know that for even less money that I paid for this machine, you can buy one with all the same bells and whistles and a graphics board and a mouse and built in modem with auto-dialer. But I have learned my lesson. I will wait. In a few months, or next year, someone will come out with the same machine plus more features for less money. Im waiting for one now with a microwave port complete with a program and recipe for Cordon