Communications Device Predictions for 2035

Feeling like a tech prophet today. So I'm going to make some silly predictions about the course of the phone and computing industry.

First, current trends, but optimistic version:

By 2035, pocket phones of all types will be replaced by Apple Watches displaying on slimmed-down Google Goggles. Voice control will become the norm, relieving us of the burden of keyboards. The microphone will be a jewel on a neckband.

Various fashions in neckbands, watches, and spectacles will drive the industry.

Tablets will also disappear, being replaced by LED projectors about the size of the old flip-phone, capable of projecting a clear image on any reasonably near-white surface. The phone will be the input and control device.

These changes will be enabled by optical CPUs developed jointly by AMD, IBM, and Intel. These CPUs will still emulate the 8086 instruction set, but at effective speeds in excess of 5 GHz.

All homes and office buildings will have wireless access points running WiMAX and Bluetooth. Bluetooth v. 10 will be commonly called Redeye wireless.

Wait, I said optimistic. So the optical CPU would have to be developed by a consortium of ARM, AMD, IBM, NXP, and the Motorola subdivision of Google. It will be a derivative of the 6809, but with 64-bit address registers and 32-bit accumulators (and DMA built-in). And it will be able to emulate a Tandy Color Computer 2 or 3 running ECB or OS-9 at effective speeds in excess of 15 GHz. Other processors will be emulated in software at GHz speeds.

Motorola will un-mothball the ultra-wideband standard it was working on in the early 2000s, and this UWB technology will replace both Wifi and Bluetooth.

The software that runs on these will have a common run-time for all ordinary applications that does away with the smash-vulnerable stack frame, separating the return address stack from the parameter stack and putting them in completely distinct address spaces.

Forth- and Lisp-like languages will become more common.

C will still be prominent, but the vernacular will assume the split stack and no stack frame, enabling non-scalar return values in the standard. Variables global to a namespace will inherently be accessed via counting monitors.

The programs that run on these devices will become very customizable, and the phone owner will regain control of his or her devices.

More realistic version:

Global warming and other influences will cause the market to stagnate, and development of phones and computing devices will flatten out.

Flip-phones with smart-phone CPUs and memory sizes, and with the means of connecting keyboards and displays, will become more common.

Broken phones and case fashion will drive the hardware industry.

Intel will buy ARM, and Microsoft will buy Google, and claim to have bought Linux.

Apps will remain difficult to customize, and the vendor will take increasing control of the devices.

In 2035, openBSD will be the last free operating system available.

Pessimistic version:

Oh, never mind about the pessimistic version. The realistic version is pessimistic enough.

Going Off-line

I have been having problems staying awake at work.

With the sugar reactions I have, even working as a traffic guard (which does not pay enough to cover rent, utilities, and food) does not leave me enough time to write and get enough sleep.

My wife and certain others are convinced that the problem is my use of computers and SNS, and especially my attempts at writing.

It looks like I'll have to find out if that is the case, since sleeping on the job is not allowed. (Even if it helped my work progress when I was doing translations.) Now I definitely can't afford to sleep on the job if I'm working as a traffic guard.

The doctor says I have to sleep eight hours a day. I don't see how that's going to work, especially when I have to exercise around forty-five minutes a day in order to sleep.

Up at 5:30. Chores for fifteen minutes to half an hour.

Exercise for forty-five minutes.

Eat breakfast, wash the dishes I used, collect lunch and fill my water bottles.

Pray.

Read a scripture from the Book of Mormon if there's time.

Leave by 7:10

Get home by 6:15.

Put my work stuff away.

Two or three days a week go take clean clothes to my mother-in-law, or pick up her dirty laundry.

Eat dinner, wash dishes.

Maybe I'll have time to help the missionaries with their English class one day a week.

Fold laundry.

Bathe.

In bed by 9:30, at the latest.

Somewhere in there I have to make time to look for work that will pay the bills.

Maybe, two days a week, I'll have time to write random nonsense for thirty minutes. I don't see anything more than random nonsense happening in that amount of time. But not until I find better work, work without overtime.

Six days a week, rinse and repeat.

But the experiment is now forced on me. It hasn't worked in the past, but it must work this time.

So, if you don't see any more updates to my writing, this is why.

[JMR202002182216: You may be able to slow me down, but you can't keep me down.]

Making New Year's Mochi Rice Cakes with the Family

御餅　おもち o-mochi: compressed rice cakes



This is one of those Japanese traditions. (Pardon the rough edits to remove private information.)

You can use regular rice, but it takes more muscle work and more time, and mochi rice tastes different, has a different texture, and a different chewiness. (Texture + chewiness == mouthfeel?) So my wife sent me to splurge a little on mochi rice yesterday. JPY 500 for 1.2 Kg (2.6 pounds).

She added pearled barley to the rice when she cooked it up today. Proto-B vitamin amino acids and fiber, to help offset the tendency for this to raise your blood sugar.

Then she got out the big pestle.



That's it resting against the side of the pan. I didn't get any pictures of either me or her using it. We were careful not to damage the surface of the rice cooker pan.

Many people would use a machine. At mochi-tsuki parties, they use a big mallet with a head as long as my forearm and twice as big around instead of a pestle, and, instead of a bowl or pan, a mortar made of a hollowed out tree trunk about a half-meter (foot and a half) wide.

One person swings the mallet, another rolls the mochi, and you have to get the rhythm right or someone gets hurt. It's a rite of trust.

 My daughter helped form the cakes.



 I rolled one in oatmeal and kinako (bean flour). It wasn't bad.

Happy New Year!

Book Review: That Prince Guy and This Glass Heart by Mariah K. Porter

Snow White and Cinderella, not so much in retelling as in reweaving of motifs. Plus a lot of magical adventure fantasy.

Ms. Porter says retelling. I won't argue, but I think reweaving is more descriptive.

(I have my own retelling of Snow White, sitting out there unfinished. These are a different approach.)

That Prince Guy can definitely be considered a retelling, but the focus is not on the motifs from the fairy tale -- the wicked step mother, the magic mirror, the poison apple, etc. -- as on the context in which the elements are connected.

The motifs are there, but with twists: The wicked stepmother is somebody else's stepmother. The magic mirror breaks and is then used by the good guys. The poison apple is foreseen, and guarded against with partial success.

And the Princess is definitely not just passively enduring all the injustices of life. She may go along for the ride, but she takes her turn in the driver's seat.

Nor does she automatically trust her prince when she meets him.

And (drum roll) the kiss does get top billing, but even that has a twist. Or two. Or three. Not limited in effect to the Snow White character, but that's a spoiler, so I didn't tell you about that, okay?

This Glass Heart could be called a meta-retelling. There is no glass slipper for this Cinderella, only a glass heart. Or the idea of a glass heart.

And the Cinderella character is not being bullied by step-family. She feels ignored, slighted, and somewhat misused by her real family, but there is no step-family. That is, the step-family is not hers. And the wicked step-mother turns out not to be so wicked as all that, after all.

She does lose her real mother in the events of the first book, but  she gets her back in this book. And the fairy godmother role is taken in part by her real mother and in part by the stepmother (someone else's, as I say).

And the Cinderella character hardly makes any appearance at the ball at all, and she goes and leaves with her prince before midnight. (But is this a metaphorical prince or a real prince? And it's not a spoiler to tell you he can definitely do magic.)

Midnight plays a prominent part, but there are no magically transformed mice. (Is my memory right?) Magically transformed humans, yes.

If you're looking forward to the pretty wedding scenes, you may be a little disappointed with the endings. I did feel like the endings were a little sudden. But, on reflection, Ms. Porter ties up the necessary threads for each story. And she tells us up front it's a series. And pretty packages are an illusion, anyway. The reader's imagination is quite serviceable for those parts, if necessary.

The writing is a bit quirky, but quite readable, quite enjoyable, as long as you don't expect your fairy tales to conform to staid manuals of style.
 

These are also books I have had a chance to beta-read. I was going to wait until the third part of the series was done to write this review, but it seems Ms. Porter has hit some rough spots, at the time I post this review. Writing is a journey, an adventure of exploring the author's ideas and memories. If the writer herself does not take time to explore, the prose will lack. Rough spots can be good. They give the writer a chance to explore, and to add depth to a story.

But these reviews need to be posted, so more people can find her books and enjoy them.

Both books recommended, looking forward to the next book, when it's ready. (And not before.)

On Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B082XBLGVX?ref_=series_rw_dp_labf

Book Review: When Love Is Lost, by Kameo Monson

(This is another one I got to read at the beta stage, and I recommend it. Ms. Monson asked for opinions on a chapter in the middle, and I was hooked. When she asked for beta readers for the whole book, I volunteered.)

It's women's fiction, a love story, romance, inductive mystery, thriller, tale of stalking, tragedy, tale from an unreliable witness, ...

Potent mix.

Recapping the blurb:

Deb finds herself facing mid-life crisis, bored, questioning her own marriage, and tempted by a forbidden relationship, as two friends face much more difficult crises.

Her old friend Betty deals with old wounds from a love lost long ago, wounds which are reopened in a life-threatening manner.

Her new friend Mariah comes to grip with tragic loss when her husband suffers a disabling injury at the worst possible time, and then faces an even greater loss.

Betty and Mariah have hard choices forced on them, but are able to find a choice for a hopeful future.

Deb helps them both by just being there for them. But who will help Deb when she gives in to temptation?

Her help comes from a source she did not expect, although both she and the reader have a few hints along the way.

Dark in places, this is a heartwarming novel with a twist of an ending that reminds the reader that life can still be good.

The book listing on goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40977365-when-love-is-lost

Can be purchased on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/When-Love-Lost-Kaameo-Monson-ebook/dp/B07FMRG241

Pie vs. Sex

If we want to analyze discrimination relative to sexual orientation, it is tempting to compare it to discrimination relative to kinds of pie.

But the choice of kinds of pie is itself problematic. For some, the question of same-gender sexuality is a question of blueberry pie vs. banana pi. For others, it is a question of blueberry pie vs. horsefeather pie, and the question of whether horsefeather pie is homosexual sexual intercourse or heterosexual sexual intercourse is quite dependent on the person expressing the preference.

The reasons such a state of affairs should exist are worth examining, but, from the public discourse on record, it is clear that such a state of affairs exists. Therefore, we should refrain from such analogies, as not having a great potential to lead to mutual understanding.

(Can we file this one under semi-intentional irony?)

(Horsefeather pie. Horsefeathers pie. Which grammar rules take priority?)

A Confession

On the train home after a long day of directing traffic around a worksite, and the lady across from me is giving me a wary eye, and the people sitting next to me moved.

I don't know that I blame them. I just exploded in a fit of random finger-beating on this Android on-screen keyboard that insists on misreading my typing, and then I whacked myself side-of-the-head to calm myself down.

Maybe it's time to admit it to the world. I'm on the spectrum.

I generally don't vent my frustrations this way, at least not since I've been an adult and have started learning how to give an appropriate voice to my doubts and frustrations. But when I'm really worn out and struggling with mis-designed software, something like Tourettes happens in my brain. It feels like mental violence, and mental violence breeds physical violence, and I have limits. I've buried the rule against hurting others really deep in my psyche, so the physical violence gets turned inward before I notice it. Since I don't want to hurt people, the violence gets directed towards towards myself and towards objects I own.

Once I notice it, I can take a mental time-out, but when I'm really tired, I don't notice until it gets expressed externally.

I know everybody has a little of this, but mine gets expressed in noticeable ways sometimes. Like this time on the train. I don't know if it would be all that noticed in the States, but it kind of sticks out in Japan.

And I realize now, that the reason I had to quit the kaigo (essentially, nurse's aid) job in the elder care facility is related to this.

When I'm faced with expectations and requirements that I can't justify, it takes me time to process things enough to move ahead without bumping into things and people.

Some people can just cut corners and "get it done" without hurting people. I can't. I have to think about which corners can be safely cut and where I can safely move and such, or I move suddenly where people aren't expecting me to move. And I leave things undone that people don't expect. And people and things get hurt.

And I have to figure this all out across three languages -- Japanese, English, and the internal language of the mind. Most people have overlaid the internal language of the mind with their "mother tongue". I haven't. And now I have essentially two mother tongues to switch between. There are advantages, but it slows me down when I have to communicate complicated things.

When I slow down, people call me lazy. That stresses me out in different ways. When people harp on my supposed laziness, my desire to get the job done right is strong enough to cause me serious stress.

When the stress gets bad enough, it can cause me to lose track of what I'm doing within twenty seconds. On the kaigo job, I ended up doing things that, had circumstances been different, could have seriously hurt several of the residents.

I like all the residents. I don't want to cause any of them to be hurt.

I know. Everybody makes mistakes. Everybody has stress. Patience and a willingness to learn what others are doing overcome such things.

But it wasn't working. Over the three and a half months I was working on that job, it was just getting worse, week-to-week. My speed was up, but the accidents were getting worse.

I was discussing it with the boss, and he didn't think it was that big a deal on the one hand, but he wanted me to commit to getting my work up to speed on a time frame that was not going to happen. My giving "service overtime" to complete my assignments, and the potential it caused for communication delays, was causing problems with my co-workers. He wouldn't take try for an answer. Wouldn't believe that I already know about pushing beyond my limits.

(For the sake of all that is rational, I'm sixty years old. I've seen this before. I've seen things you wouldn't believe. I've seen the magic. It isn't instantaneous. The fact that you want it to happen is not somehow magically stronger magic than the magic I've used just to get me to this point. Give me some credit for knowing myself.)

So, things were getting worse instead of better, when it was clear that I could no longer trust myself to remember what I was doing long enough to safely get it done, and when patience just saw things get worse, I added that into how long it would take me to get to the point where I could pay rent and food for my family, I knew I had to quit. Before somebody got hurt and I got sent to jail.

By the way, until I find something better, I'm now working as a 警備員 (keibi-in), something of a cross between a security guard and a crossing guard. Mostly, I direct traffic near construction and work sites.

You know, stand there waving flags or a traffic baton, keeping accidents from happening, etc.

Slow down.

Go.

Stop.

Turn.

Danger.

Very simple communication.

I'd driven several hundred thousand miles over my life, about a third of that in Japan, before we had to give up the car. This is stuff I understand and know how to communicate.

(This gaijin face gets a few double-takes on-location. Can be fun, can be a problem sometimes.)

By the way, the name of the company I work for is スカイネット。

No, not that Skynet. Not at all.