The electronic wonder of California, where the companies make our electrons run about in tight little circles of intelligence.
The popping on and off and the slipping in and out of powered existence makes life look so flashy and exciting
that I wish I could live in a computer chip and experience high-speed video clips of myself–a sort of go-go dancer
clicking my heels in ecstasy when the consumers get their hands about me and switch me to my On position.
If I could live and dance in one of those silicon housing developments, I cannot say that I would do the cha-cha-cha.
I might rather do a samba or even an old-fashioned waltz, just to slow myself a bit so that I might feel the full sense
of this century of mathematical wizardry.
I could be an experiment in a test lab and wouldn’t know whether I had the freedom to leap off the circuit board
and charge out the back door of the place in a whirlwind. No, instead, I’d know my limit of contentment by how quickly
my megahertz thumped out a rhythm, washing in a warm and inviting stream of data.