We are all becoming accustomed to the fact that technology sometimes outpaces our innate reasoning capacity. When was the last time you multiplied, divided, or even added two large numbers using pencil and paper? I can hardly balance my checkbook without a calculator. (How do you know you're lost? Your GPS tells you that you aren't where you think you are.)
As further evidence of this, Netflix tells me what I want to watch. I try to resist. Sometimes I watch things that escape the Netflix algorithm entirely. But mostly I yield. Out of laziness.
The problem, however, is that both Mary (Mary Logue, my S.O., life partner, love of my life, etc.) and I make use of the same Netflix account. Consequentially, we get parallel user recommendations like this:
Oddly enough, there are many things we can watch together. Firefly, Sherlock, and anything with Judy Dench or Helen Mirren come to mind.
That is all. I haven't been blogging much. This is because I have been writing. Furiously, brilliantly, badly, madly, desperately. As my brother, a carpenter, might say, "It's what I do."