Michael Robert Dyet's Blog, page 29

The Trump Impeachment: A Paper Victory

Hmmm, what is the story behind the story in the Trump
impeachment?

I have consciously not
followed the progress of the Trump impeachment proceedings beyond whatever
newsbytes have been broadcast on the radio. Do not misunderstand me. I am not
uninterested or unconcerned about the process. I simply find that the media circus
surrounding proceedings like this one often cloud the real issues.

Now that The House has
reached its decision, I will have my say – once and once only.

It is essential to
understand that impeachment is not a verdict of wrongdoing. It does not in
itself result in the removal of an official from office. It is equivalent to an
indictment in criminal law. It means formal charges are laid for a higher body
– in this case the U.S. Senate – to adjudicate.

In U.S. history, only
two other presidents faced impeachment. (Richard Nixon resigned in 1974 before
impeachment proceedings against him could reach the House floor.) President
Andrew Johnson faced impeachment way back in 1868. More recently in 1998, Bill
Clinton faced impeachment. Both were acquitted by the U.S. senate.

From my perspective, the
story behind the story boils down to
two realities.

First, there is the fact
that Donald Trump insists he did nothing wrong. It is not a case of sticking to
his version of the story and hoping for the best. He honestly believes that he
is infallible and that anything he chooses to do is by definition correct and
beyond reproach.

More importantly, Trump’s
fate now lies with the U.S. Senate, assuming that the House sends the articles
of impeachment to it. There is virtually no chance that Trump will be removed
from office because the Senate is controlled by the Republicans.

It is not about right or
wrong, justice or injustice. Whether or not Trump acted unethically or
illegally is ultimately mute. The real issue is partisan politics and wielding
power without concern for the truth. If you’ll pardon the pun, the Senate holds
the trump card and it is a foregone
conclusion how they will play it. They will back their man to the bitter end.

I do not know if Trump
deserves to be removed from office. As is often the case, there are not just
two sides to the story. There are multiple sides each with varying degrees of
validity. Nothing is ever black and white in these situations.

I do know that the
ultimate outcome of the proceedings was decided before it all began. The
decision of the House – which predictably voted mostly along party lines – is
at best symbolic.

The impeachment
proceedings made for great headlines. But when all is said and done, it is a
paper victory. Truth will ultimately be buried beneath partisan politics, and
that is perhaps the real indictment arising from the whole affair.

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of
Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which
was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me Go
Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing
are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the
right sidebar. If
you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly
to my page for postings once a week.

A Temporary Truce with Old Man Winter

“What
good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?” ~ John Steinbeck

Hmmm, is it possible to
call a truce with my sworn enemy?

I am not now, nor have
ever been, a fan of Old Man Winter. I do not like the cold or the short, gray, winter
days when the sun goes into hiding. I especially do not like being stuck in
bumper-to-bumper traffic on the drive to work.

But even a winter bear such
as I, who hibernates for the season, can sometimes awaken and recognize, albeit
briefly and grudgingly, the subtler virtues of the season. While it will never
rival the rebirth of spring, the lush life of summer or the colours of autumn,
I might give it its due.

It is a December
Saturday. My Christmas shopping is done. My cupboard and fridge are well
stocked with food. I have no need to go anywhere, my car is safely docked in
the garage and I am comfortably settled on my couch. All is quiet and peaceful.

Since 9:00 am, snow has
been falling steadily, persistently but gently. I did not expect it and at
first was inclined to close the blinds. But as I stand at the window and watch,
the fat, wet snowflakes tumble and swirl, spin and float, in a winter waltz
that I cannot help but admire.

The barren branches of
trees, lifeless for weeks now, are gifted with a pearly frosting. The red
Christmas ribbon on the gate across the way wears an ivory bouquet. A waxen
blanket has been spread over the ground masking the bleak browns and greys of
yesterday.

One set of footsteps, soon
to be filled in, marks the hidden sidewalk bearing witness to a passerby of a
half hour ago. The rooftops are crested with fresh snow and the bushes are
growing alabaster bear paws. An unexpected peace has taken hold.

I have not forgotten
that there are three or four months of winter ahead. I know that I will curse
the season more frequently as it wears on and shows its less inspiring
qualities. I will long for spring and wish the cold away.

But at the moment, Old
Man Winter does not seem so grim. In fact, he seems to have acquired and is
showing off an artist’s touch. I am quite content for the moment to gaze out
the window and admire the show. Usually sworn enemies, the Old Man and I have
called a temporary truce.

For today, I will adopt
Steinbeck’s perspective. I will enjoy the lively dance of the snowflakes and see
them as an endless, swirling cloud of phantom fireflies planting the seeds for
the gentler seasons yet to come.

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of
Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also the
author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which was a
double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website
at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me Go
Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for
subscribing are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions
page in the right sidebar. If
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to my page for postings once a week.

Synchronicity: A Precocious Moment in a Summer Meadow

Hmmm, where does
synchronicity begin and metaphor end, or vice versa?

I first envisioned
framing this post around the old adage timing
is everything. But as I turned the idea around in my mind and examined it
from different angles, I realized what I was really contemplating was the
phenomenon of synchronicity.

The official
definition of synchronicity is: The
simultaneous occurrence of events which appear significantly related but have
no discernible causal connection. While technically accurate, that is too
clinical for my liking.

I did a bit of
Google sleuthing and learned that the concept was first introduced by
analytical psychologist Carl Jung as early as the 1920’s. He theorized that
events are meaningful coincidences if
they occur with no causal relationship but appear to be meaningfully related.

Interesting, but still
too clinical for my taste. I prefer to think of synchronicity as precocious
moments when the universe tires of logic and lets its whimsical side take
control. Let’s put this unplanned event
together with that random occurrence and see what it happens. … Aha! Now that
is something to behold!

The photograph at
the top of this post is by my definition an example of synchronicity at work.

The first element
at play is the Comma butterfly which
has only recently emerged. All its colours and markings – including the striking
white comma on the outer wing – are newly minted and flawless to a degree that
can only last a matter of days in the life of a butterfly.

The second element
is the pear-shaped, broad green leaf with its serrated edges and spidery white
veins. It too is in the full bloom its existence that that will all too soon
pass as the heat of high summer begins to drain it of its vitality.

The third element
is the lighting – the sun’s rays landing in at the exact right angle to bring
out the colours and shadings in sharp contrast while also casting a mirror
image shadow of the butterfly on the leaf that plays host to it.

I would like to be
able to say that I spent hours prowling the meadow following this one
butterfly, studying the lighting, looking for the right leaf, and waiting for
all the elements to come together. But that would be a fabrication. I do not
have anything resembling that kind of patience.

The truth is that
the universe felt whimsical and created this precocious moment. Was it
coincidence that I happened along to capture it? I think not. I believe that I
– a lover of winged wonders who happens to carry a camera with him in the field
– was the fourth element that the universe factored into the equation to
complete the moment of synchronicity.

Metaphors have an
element of whimsy in them. There is a dash of synchronicity in a good metaphor.
And this instance of synchronicity in a summer meadow has a dash of metaphor in
it.

I was fortunate to
be a player in this aha! moment. Was
it because I am a weaver of metaphors?

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of
Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which
was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me Go
Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing
are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the
right sidebar. If
you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly
to my page for postings once a week.

Random Act of Metaphor: A Chorus Line of Blackbirds on the Wires

Hmmm, can we find comfort
in the mundane if we choose?

Every weekday morning on
my drive to work I head south on Dixie Road past Steeles Avenue. It is one of
the busiest intersections on my commute, but not just from the perspective of
traffic.

As I wait at the
intersection for the green light, I look up at the hydro wires which appear to
be encrusted with barnacles. But a closer examination reveals a chorus line of
blackbirds shoulder to shoulder numbering in the hundreds.

Blackbirds are creatures
of habit in this respect. They select a roost and occupy it persistently.
Flocking behaviour is particularly common in the winter months. Occasionally,
perhaps to stretch their wings, they launch from the wires all at once, circle
in tight formation for a minute or two and then return to roost again.

What is the point of
this rather mundane observation? It is probably a quirk of my personality, of
which there are many, that I find it comforting that blackbirds are so
predictable in their behavior.

A chorus line of
blackbirds on the wires – a random act of metaphor to assure me that there are
some things I can count to remain consistent in a world where relentless change
is the norm.

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of
Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which
was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me Go
Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing
are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the
right sidebar. If
you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly
to my page for postings once a week.

Max, Lotto Max Professional Dream Coach, Gets Fluffyfied

Hmmm, what would happen
if Max, Lotto Max Professional Dream Coach, showed up at my door?

One of the downsides of
being a writer is that my tolerance is low for lame efforts at creativity.
These days, I am increasingly annoyed at the television and radio commercials
that clog the airwaves. I often play a mind game where I put myself in the
commercial and reimagine it the way I would like to see it go. Here is my
retake of the Lotto Max commercial.

Knock on door. Door
opens.

Michael:          Where’s
my pizza, dude?

Max:                I’m not the pizza guy. I’m Max, Professional Dream Coach.

Michael:          That’s
not a real job, dude.

Max:                Sure it is. I am one.

Michael:          Whatever
scam you’re running, I’m not buying it, dude.

Max:                It’s not a scam. I’m here to bigify your dreams.

Michael:          Bigify
is not a real word, dude.

Max:                Sure it is. It means “to make bigger”.

Michael:          Read
my lips. Whatever scam you’re running, I’m not buying it, dude.

Max:                It’s not a scam. How would your Friday night change if you won Lotto
Max?

Michael:          It’s
Saturday, dude. And I don’t buy lottery tickets.

Max:                Why do you keep calling me “dude”?

Michael:          Trust
me, dude. You don’t want to know the answer to that question.

Max:                Suppose you did buy a lottery ticket and won. What would you—

Michael:          You’re
annoying me, dude. Go away.

Max:                Why can’t you just answer my question? What would you—

Michael:          You’re
pissing me off, dude. Go away or I’ll sic my dog Fluffy on you.

Max:                Your dog Fluffy? He can be in your dream too. What would you—

Michael:          Fluffy,
come!

Max:                That doesn’t look like a “Fluffy”.

Michael:          He’s
a Rottweiler attack dog. You know that name I keep calling you.

Max:                Dude?  (Snarls, growls and
barks)

Michael:          “Dude”
is his trigger word to attack. (Snarls, growls and barks)

Max:                Ow! Ow! Ow! He’s biting my ass! Call him off! Call him off!

Michael:          Dream
your way out of this situation, dude.

Max:                I’ll leave! Just call him off! Call him off! Ow! Ow! Ow!

Michael:          Bark
when you’re done having fun, Fluffy.

Door closes.

Yes, I do have a twisted
sense of humour at times. It is a necessary coping mechanism in this age of
annoying advertising.

Max, Professional Dream
Coach, gets me hot under the collar every time he flashes on my TV screen. But
my metaphorical revenge is ever so sweet.

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of
Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which
was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me Go
Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing
are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the
right sidebar. If
you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly
to my page for postings once a week.

Hairstreaks: The Reward of Channeling Patience

A power of Butterfly
must be – / The Aptitude to fly / Meadows of Majesty concedes / And easy Sweeps
of Sky – ~ Emily Dickinson

Hmmm, where better to
learn patience than in pursuit of tiny gems of Mother Nature?

We are into the bleak
days of November which is the month I dislike the most. The cool but picturesque
days of autumn are still fresh in my memory. But opening the door vanquishes those
memories in a hurry. And so, once again I turn to my archive of winged wonder
photos to lift my sagging spirits.

Instinctively I migrate
to my favourite butterfly species: Hairstreaks.
These nickel-sized beauties, many of which are uncommon, are named after the
threadlike tails on the hindwing. They fly rapidly, flitting from side to side
or in circles, making them difficult to track and exceptionally difficult to
photograph.

Banded Hairstreaks, the most common Hairstreak in my vicinity, frequent sunny glades. They dart out and furiously flutter around before returning to their perch. The specimen below perched on the fine filaments of white flower showing off its markings to full effect.

When I passing willows around marshes and streams, I am on the lookout for Acadian Hairstreaks which display more distinct orange spotbands than the Banded. The specimen below was hiding out upside-down on the underside of a waxy green leaf.

Striped Hairstreaks closely resemble their sister Bandeds and require careful examination to identify. Forest edges and thickets are their habitat of choice. I was very fortunate to capture the specimen below clearly as perched on a leaf that resembled an outstretched hand.

Hickory Hairstreaks are a tough find and classified as rare in their normal habitat of clearings and edges around deciduous woods. The specimen below was a bit making its markings less distinct as it nestled in the protective harbour of a curled leaf.

Gray Hairstreaks are the most widespread hairstreak in North America, but not found in my normal stomping grounds. I had to venture a few hours west to southwestern Ontario find the specimen below clinging to a delicate yellow wildflower beside a marsh.

I have saved the best for last. My field guide classifies Coral Hairstreaks as common in my area. But my experience is different. I have only set eyes on two of these beauties which favour brushy places, thickets and overgrown fields. The lovely specimen below, with a striking orange spotband, was perched low in the grass in a field in one of my favourite haunts.

Butterfly metaphors
abound. But since my treasured Hairstreaks
are at best occasional and chance finds, let us nominate them today as
metaphors for patience. It is a trait I do not usually possess, but sometimes
am able to channel with delightful rewards.

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of
Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which
was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me Go
Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing
are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the
right sidebar. If
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to my page for postings once a week.

When I Grow Old and Wear the Bottom of My Trousers Rolled: Moments Etched in Memory

I
grow old.. I grow old…

I
shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled

T.S.
Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Hmmm, do the moments
that remain etched in memory change us forever?

Much of life passes with
little fanfare. The day-to-day events are absorbed into history as nothing more
than footnotes. But then there are the moments that took our breath away. Often
a  few words or a single image cement
them in our mind.

November 22, 1963: The
Grassy Knoll.

Immortalized as the
small green space on the northwest side of Dealey Plaza in Texas where

John F. Kennedy, 35th
President of the United States, was assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald Also
famous among conspiracy theorists as the purported side of a second shooter.

I was only 5 on that
day. But it is etched in my memory as the day I learned that life is fragile.

July 16, 1969: That’s one small step for man, one giant
leap for mankind.

These are the famous
words of Apollo 11 astronaut Neal Armstrong as he became the first person to
walk on the moon. Buzz Aldrin also walked on the moon that day, but Armstrong
got all the publicity as the first.

Etched in my memory as
the day I learned that the universe is more than what I see.

September 28, 1972: Henderson has scored for Canada!

With 34 seconds
remaining in game eight of the famous Summit Series between hockey superpowers
Canada and the Soviet Union, Paul Henderson scored the goal that clinched the
series for Canada in an epic comeback.

Etched in my memory as
the day I learned how deep national pride can go.

January 28, 1986: Obviously a major malfunction.

The understatement of
all time, emanating from Kennedy Space Center, when the space shuttle
Challenger exploded 73 seconds after liftoff, killing all seven crew members. A
joint in its right solid rocket booster failed at liftoff caused by the failure
of O-ring seals.

Etched in my memory as
the day I learned that the price that can accompany human infallibility.

September 11, 2001: Freedom has been attacked this morning by a
faceless coward. And freedom will be defended.

President George Bush’s
vow after terrorists high jacked four U.S. passenger carriers – two crashing
into the World Trade Center in New York, one into the Pentagon and the fourth
into  a field near Shanksville,
Pennsylvania after its passengers thwarted the hijackers.

Etched in my memory as
the day I learned the true meaning of evil.

August 14, 2003: The
most famous software bug in history.

The day a software bug,
in the alarm system at First Energy in Akron, Ohio, kicked off the great
Northwest Blackout which knocked out power throughout Ontario and parts of the
Northeastern and Midwestern U.S. At the time, it was the second most widespread
blackout in history.

Etched in my memory as
the day I learned the all too real pitfalls that can lurk in lines of computer
code.

These moments are each
metaphors for the reality that life can change forever in a heartbeat. When I
grow old and wear the bottom of my trousers rolled, and my days are winding
down, these days will remain etched in my memory as moments that took my breath
away.

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which
was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me Go
Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing
are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the
right sidebar. If
you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly
to my page for postings once a week.

Slips of the Mind: The Fickle Fiend of Aging

Hmmm, if it slips your
mind, is it gone forever or just stuck in the gaps of memory?

If you are middle-aged
or older, you know that memory becomes a fickle fiend as the years go by.
Sometimes it performs flawlessly and other times it fails miserably.

I remind myself over and
over again during the day: I have to
remember to stop at the grocery store and pick up milk, toilet paper and
bananas. And still, I get home, open the fridge door and think: Crap! I forgot!

I bump into someone I
have not seen in a while. I cover my tracks with casual conversation while I
think: His name. What is his name? Dan?
Stan? Sam?

And most frustrating of
all: I walk from one room to the next, stop in mid-step and think: What the hell was I coming in here for?

Fortunately, it does not
fall all on the negative side of the ledger.

At this time of year, it
is dark when I leave for work. I turn off the garage light before I get into my
car. In the dark, my hand reaches around the steering wheel and inserts the key
into the ignition hole perfectly. My brain, amazingly, has memorized the exact
sequence of muscular movements to perform that function.

I sit in the conference
room at work as a presentation is about to begin. I hear a voice behind me. My
brain instantly recognizes it as Joe Smith, even though I only meet up with him
a few times a year.

I walk down the hall and
see the profile of someone from behind. My brain connects the dots – gender,
hair colour and length, height, posture, stride – George Anderson.

Science tells us that
there are three types of memory each with its own characteristics.

Short-term
memory: Information
stored for about one minute with a capacity limited to about 7 items. (In my
case, some days I am down to 3 items at best.)

Long-term
memory: This memory,
events from short term memory encoded for storage, in theory has unlimited
content and duration capacity for things like personal memories, facts and
figures – and apparently, the profile of a person from behind. But, alas, not
names.

Skill
memory: This memory
stores automatic learned memories like tying a shoe, riding a bike, playing an
instrument – and apparently, inserting a key into the ignition in the dark.

I am a mixed metaphor
where memory is concerned. My skill memory seems to be a steel trap. My long
term memory is as sharp as an exacto knife at times and a dull blade at others.
My short term memory is…is… you know, that thing with holes in it… the thing
you use to drain the water off of pasta…

Oh, you fickle fiend! I
just know you are laughing at me now.

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of
Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which
was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me Go
Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing
are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the
right sidebar. If
you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly
to my page for postings once a week.

October 21: Why You Should Step Up and Cast Your Vote

Hmmm, will you be one of
the abstainers in the Canadian federal election next Monday?

I took advantage of the
advance polls last weekend to vote, as did 4.7 million electors. But there are
many who will leave their ballots blank. Voter turnout in the 2015 Canadian
federal election was 68.5%. The good news is that this was the highest turnout
since 1993. The bad news is that this means nearly one-third of all eligible voters
did not cast a vote.

If you are considering
taking a pass on October 21st, allow me to put forward a few reasons
to reconsider that decision.

If you do not vote, you
unofficially lose the right to complain about the performance of the leader of
the party forming the government. You do not get to complain if you did not
take part in the process. What will you talk about around the water cooler at
work for the next four years?

If more people have
voted in the last Ontario provincial election (42% opted out), perhaps we would
not be saddled with four years of Doug “Slash and Burn” Ford and his personal
crusade to reinvent the province in his own distorted vision. (Apologies if you
are a Doug Ford fan. We’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.)

It may seem that your
one vote does not matter in the final analysis. But apathy is contagious. If
you do not vote, arguably we all lose.

If more people have voted
in the last U.S. election (45% opted out), perhaps our newsfeeds would not be
clogged with the latest antics, tirades and misquotes of Donald Trump. (Apologies
if you are a Donald Trump fan. We’ll have to strenuously agree to disagree on that point.)

You have endured two
months of mudslinging, backstabbing and below-the-belt insults between the
party leaders – not to mention the inflammatory television and radio ads. Monday
is your chance to show how much class you have by putting aside your
disenchantment and placing an informed vote.

All of the above are
valid reasons for showing up at the polls on Monday. But the most compelling
reason is one that no one, in all good faith, can dispute.

Not so very long ago,
courageous men fought – and countless numbers gave their lives – on
bloodstained battlefields overseas to protect the freedom you enjoy. You owe
them your gratitude. Exercising your right to vote is how you show it.

So I ask you to not
throw in the towel on Monday. You have a
right and a duty to participate
in the process – and it is in your best interest to do so. Abstaining serves no
purpose.

Step up and have your say.
Mark your X on the ballot.

~  Now Available Online
from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of
Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which
was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make
Me Go Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing
are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the
right sidebar. If
you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly
to my page for postings once a week.

V2X Technology: Can Openers, Hackers and Trapdoors

Hmmm, is it really safe
to pry open the lid of V2X technology?

I had the opportunity
this week to hear a keynote speaker presentation on Vehicle to Everything technology – aka C-V2X technology. It was an eye-opening hour. I will try to stick
to the facts and not make this another axe-to-grind, technology Grinch post. But
no guarantees.

First, a definition is
in order. V2X is a wireless form of
communication in which information is passed from a vehicle to any entity that
could affect the vehicle and vice versa. It is the emerging technology that
will eventually enable autonomous vehicles.

This means that devices
in the vehicle have the ability communicate with other vehicles, with traffic
light signals, with personal digital devices – just about any digital device
you can imagine.

In the Smart Cities of the future, cellular V2X enabled autonomous vehicles will
guide themselves around city streets without need for human intervention. It
may be a decade or more before this becomes a reality. But make no mistake: It will happen.

I have railed against
this coming revolution in previous posts. But the speaker I heard brought a new
perspective on the subject. He put forward the view that the push for
autonomous vehicles is all about safety and crash avoidance – removing the
element of human error that is the cause of most automobile accidents.

I am not sure I buy into
that viewpoint. But let us accept the premise for now. In theory, eliminating
human error could dramatically reduce the occurrence of automobile accidents.
But what about the human error factor that applies in the development of the
technology?

The speaker also quoted
an interesting and disconcerting statistic. The average vehicle on the road
today has 100 million lines and counting of computer code. No doubt that figure
will increase exponentially for autonomous vehicles.

Let’s put that second
figure in numbers for dramatic impact: 100,000,000
lines of computer code. I am anything but a technology expert. But it seems
to me this opens up endless possibilities of human error in the coding process.
Can even the most skilled programmer effectively and exhaustively debug that
much code? It may be a rhetorical question.

The other disturbing
issue in the equation is cyber security. The speaker, to give him credit,
showed a diagram of a car indicating all the potential points of attack for
hackers. I did not have time to count them all, but there had to be at least
20.

Is the threat of hacking
really an issue for V2X technology? Consider the fact that a hacker used an internet-connected
fish tank – with sensors connected to a PC that regulated temperature, food and
cleanliness – to hack into a casino’s computer system. No, this is not an urban
legend. It really happened.

Human error hidden in
100,000,000 + lines of computer code. 20+ points of attack in an automobile for
hackers to target. I am not convinced that equation computes to safety.

I have heard it said that
technology is a can opener. It opens up wonderful possibilities, but also
daunting liabilities. I am more than a little concerned about the trapdoors that V2X technology is
opening.

~  Now Available Online
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~ Michael Robert Dyet is also
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was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s
website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com .

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