What you do with your computer tells you what you need to know. You give it what you got.
It computes. This is the Information Age. Up pops onto the screen the information you searched. Facts are a kind of information. Friends are a kind of information. Politics is a kind of information. Religion is a kind of information. Web History is a kind of information.
DNA is a kind of information. The computer cannot replicate your DNA. Your DNA is smarter than any computer, minus the facts.
Professionals rely on various kinds of computers. Mass production is about an array of computers. Speed is a standard set by computers. The only really slow computer is one that's shut off.
Computers are the brainchild of science and reason. I am not a computer. Reason is way over to one side of my Savivity. I have no reason to do anything today. Athena has no reason to call me. It made little difference to her that she told me the truth the last time I saw her. She said she had not thought about me and did not think of me again until the next time I interjected myself into her life, years later. My friend as a witness confirmed: "Yeah, she's got it going on! She doesn't need you, she's got her designer jeans and that ring on her finger and her little boy in a perfect leather sling strapped to her hip." But someone with an imbalance like mine doesn't use that as an "A-ha!" moment. That should have been a cold shower, wet washcloth and kick in the butt all at once. Instead I looked down and half-agreed until the other half overtook my inner drives again. It didn't take long. Believing in Athena stuck until way after it was too late. The politics of compassion are compassion for the self first in my case. By forgiving myself as much as I can forgive anyone else I might feel good when I do my part for the truly needy rather than feeling like a spoiled child who feasts on spoilt porridge and lives off of hand-me-downs because my self-esteem was never what I thought it was except for when I was 19 and attempting suicide.
