From time to time in this space, I have ranted about the advent and increased use of and dependency on technology. It’s not so much that technology itself is bad; rather, it’s how we use it that makes it a good thing or a not good thing.
For instance, I’m very grateful for the technology that existed that let a cardiac surgeon a few years ago stop my heart, put it on the bypass machine, tinker with it and then kick start it running again. That’s a good thing.
But some of the garbage and filth that exists on the dark side and how some technology is corrupting our citizens and nations ... well, that’s a bad thing.
Technology is a big umbrella covering a host of activities. One of those is artificial intelligence (AI). You and I both know some folks lacking in native intelligence who might be helped by a dose of artificial. But the horror stories of AI gadgets creating their own language and taking over the world aren’t all fairy tales.
Another is cloning — you know, when cells and DNA from good folks like Albert Einstein are used to produce another one of him. But what about if someone from the Evil Empire got hold of Adolf Hitler’s and made another him?
It’s in that area of cloning that I want to land for a second. We’ve had cloning in the South — and remember South is a place while north is a direction — for years.
We call it “cousins.”
And we’re all, as the Good Book says, uniquely and wonderfully and fearfully made. And that’s what makes it so good and better than merely replicating the same thing.
In my few short years, I was blessed with a boatload of cousins, at least that’s what it seemed like when I was a mere lad. Today, as I count them, they total 21 and when you throw in me and my two brothers, that makes 24 — a significant number of us.
We were boys and girls, different ages, different interests and locales, lots of differences. But our common denominator was we were “kin.” And while we were different, we were the same. No need — or desire — to copy one of us to make another.
We played together. Shared meals at the different homes. Some went to school together, grew up together, shared the ups and downs of life together. And we grew older — took wives and husbands, had families and grand-families. We buried our parents and aunts and uncles and just said “goodbye” to the last one of those a few weeks ago.
Now we’re really growing older ... and we’re losing more of us. There’s a picture on the bookcase in my study I look at from time to time. There were 18 of us gathered for a cousin photo at a family funeral. It wasn’t that long ago. Four weren’t there because of distance; one had a schedule conflict; and another was the first of us to slip away.
A few days ago, I learned from a cousin in the picture that his sister who lived out of state had passed away. She wasn’t in the photo that day but adding her to those who were there then but not here now brings us down to 18, meaning we’ve lost a quarter of us in just a short time.
I’m not saying all this to just talk about my crowd and how great we may or may not have been because there was a mixed bag of us. However, we were still family and loved one another and still do. Rather, I’m saying if you’ve got some of these folks called “cousins” then you’ve got an ace on the hole. Love ‘em; cherish ‘em; spend time with ‘em.
They’re natural technology. That’s the best kind.
Bob Wachs is a native of Chatham County and retired long-time managing editor of the Chatham News/Chatham Record, having written a weekly column for more than 30 years. During most of his time with the newspapers, he was also a bi-vocational pastor and today serves Bear Creek Baptist Church for the second time as pastor.