Hands up if you were a fan of 2000AD back in the day? It’s still going, maybe not so strong, these days. I picked up a copy a while back and it’s reduced to a what seems like a few pages of stories with adverts thrown in here and there. It reminded me why I rarely bought comics. I was too impatient to “wait until next week to find out the stunning conclusion to this week’s story!” Thankfully friends did buy it and I had more than a few copies of the comic myself when curiosity got the better of me.
I was lucky! A few short weeks later the postman delivers Book 2 into my grubby hands and I have Daniel Jacobs to thank for it. Memories come flooding back as I soak in the art work. That story was just the craziest and grittiest thing I ever read. Only thing is now, I’ll have to find a copy of Book 1 somewhere or order it from Amazon myself!
In all seriousness, this post is in part made because of the death of a neighbour I’ve known all my life. I hadn’t spoken to him in a long time and it was a shock when I heard the news. He was a quiet man but always had a ready smile and had a great collection of capacitors, resistors and other electronics.
After his removal from the funeral home last week I spoke to a woman who was standing near my car. She asked who had died and I told her, to which she replied, “He worked for Dunlops didn’t he?”
Small world, but nice to be remembered.
Around a year ago I was reading Vulcan’s Hammer when I came upon something that rattled me. At the time the (first) Lisbon Treaty was about to be voted on so everyone was talking about Lisbon this, Lisbon that, and what it all meant, and how nobody knew what it all meant, etc etc.
Well, in Vulcan’s Hammer, written by Philip K. Dick in 1960, the world has become a totalitarian society ruled by mysterious computers given absolute power in 1993 by legislation called “The Lisbon Laws”. It didn’t affect how I voted of course but the naming coincidence was starling!
Here’s an extract from the book. Anti Lisbon Treaty folk better get your tinfoil hats on!
Mrs. Parker made a note on her chart. “Correct.” She felt pride at the children’s alert response. “And now perhaps someone can tell me about the Lisbon Laws of 1993.”
The classroom was silent. A few pupils shuffled in their seats. Outside, warm June air beat against the windows. A fat robin hopped down from a branch and stood listening for worms. The trees rustled lazily.
“That’s when Vulcan 3 was made,” Hans Stein said.
Mrs. Parker smiled. “Vulcan 3 was made long before that; Vulcan 3 was made during the war. Vulcan 1 in 1970. Vulcan 2 in 1975. They had computers even before the war, in the middle of the century. The Vulcan series was developed by Otto Jordan, who worked with Nathaniel Greenstreet for Westinghouse, during the early days of the war…”
For a moment there was no response. The rows of face were blank. Then, abruptly, incredibly: “The Lisbon Laws dethroned God,” a piping child’s voice, came from the back of the classroom. A girl’s voice, severe and penetrating.
Mrs. Parker paced rapidly down the aisle, past the children’s desks. “The Lisbon Laws of 1993,” she said sharply, were the most important legislation of the past five hundred years.” She spoke nervously, in a high-pitched shrill voice; gradually the class turned toward her. Habit made them them pay attention to her-the training of years. “All seventy nations of the world sent representatives to Lisbon. The world-wide Unity organization formally agreed that the great computer machines developed by Britain and the Soviet Union and the United States, and hitherto used in a purely advisory capacity, would now be given absolute power over the national governments in the determination of top-level policy-”
“Mr. Dill,” a girl’s voice came. “Can I ask you something?”
“Certainly,” Dill said, halting briefly at the door. “What do you want to ask?” He glanced at his wrist watch, smiling rather fixedly.
“Director Dill is in a hurry,” Mrs. Parker managed to say. “He has so much to do, so many tasks. I think we had better let him go, don’t you?”
But the firm little child’s voice continued, as inflexible as steel. “Director Dill, don’t you feel ashamed of yourself when you let a machine tell you what to do?
“The Lisbon Laws, which you’re learning about. The year the combined nations of the world decided to throw in their lot together. To subordinate themselves in a realistic manner-not in the idealistic fashion of the UN days-to a common supranational authority, for the good of all mankind.”
“There was one answer. For years we had been using computers, giant constructs put together by the labor and talent of hundreds of trained experts, built to exact standards. Machines were free of the poisoning bias of self-interest and feeling that gnawed at man; they were capable of performing the objective calculations that for man would remain only an ideal, never a reality. If nations would be willing to give up their sovereignty, to subordinate their power to the objective, impartial directives of the-”
It’s a great story and well worth a read. It was part of a 3 story book called “Philip K Dick Three Early Novels” containing The man who japed, Dr. Futurity, and Vulcan’s Hammer. The first story almost put me off reading the other two as it had dated badly. Some of the character’s names and the technology are really old fashioned! Persevere, it’s worth it.
Drmike says he found a site where you can download “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows”.
Would you download a possibly incomplete copy of a new book? What if it’s not as polished as the finished item? Would the glaring grammatical mistakes, and unedited paragraphs ruin the experience for you?
What about the experience of lying in bed with a good book, engrossed in it and falling asleep with the light on? Is it the same with a set of printed sheets from your computer? I think not. That scene in The Devil Wears Prada does spring to mind where the kids are reading the manuscript on the train..
Meanwhile, Scott Adams has an excellent post on copyright violation which he later explained was an experiment in “cognitive dissonance”.
If you’ve read anything about experiments to produce cognitive dissonance, you know this was the perfect setup. You can produce dissonance by putting a person in a position of doing something that is clearly opposed to his self image. Then wait for his explanation. The explanation will seem absurd to anyone who doesn’t share the dissonance. In this case the model that produced it was…
1. Good people are not criminals.
2. Criminals break laws.
3. I break copyright laws.
4. But since I know I am a good person, my reason why it’s okay to violate copyright laws is (insert something absurd).
I don’t think it worked on me because I happen to agree with him that copyright violation is theft. Previous mind experiments have however worked on me so I’m as susceptable as anyone. His underpants story was particularly absurd however, even if in keeping with his sense of humour and not at all out of place on the Dilbert blog!
21st July – the book is out and I’ve seen it. I took a picture of the last page but I don’t think anyone really wants to see it, do you? There’s Michael reading his copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows!
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