Chicken Poop Story #2 Fishing on the Information Super Highway

It’s the year 2501, and we finally got it all hooked up. It’s a super-broadband world, a hyper-connected universe we live in, and I feel so fortunate!

Upon my barest whim, I can be instantaneously provided in 3D and super-surround sound all of the knowledge ever created by man. That means that all the music, all the art, all the literature, and all the science is here for me to explore and wonder.

But I’ll get to that later.

I can also virtually teleport myself anywhere in the universe to meet strange alien civilizations, explore strange new worlds, and go where no man has gone before.

But I can’t be bothered right now.

I can also transport myself to higher dimensional planes, visit deceased relatives, time travel to visit long dead civilizations, and pet my late dog Spot.

But I don’t have the time at the moment.

In the meantime, I can indulge my interest in what is truly important to me: bass fishing! I’ve configured my information portal to receive 500 bass fishing TV channels, 12 all bass radio feeds, 7 bass chat rooms, and a virtual lake full of infinite fish. But I’m not alone in my joy. All over the world, folks are setting up individual information portals that allow them to indulge in their own needful obsessions, like soap operas, cookie jar collections, and foot fetishes. Thanks to the universal information super-highway, we can all focus on the things we know are important to us. As for the rest, I am sure we will all still spare a minute or two, but we’ll get to that later.

Chicken Poop Story #1: Upon Discovering Beethoven's Tenth Symphony

A few months ago, I made a miraculous discovery while rummaging through an old chest belonging to my great-great-great-great uncle Anton Spelunker, student and bunkmate to the great musical genius, Ludwig Van Beethoven. In the chest was my uncle’s meticulous copy of Beethoven’s long fabled 10th Symphony! It was a sublime and moving work, full of splendid melodies, powerful and assured orchestration, and a fugue for combined chorus and orchestra that seemed to sing to the heavens. With anxious anticipation, I brought my find to the Wolfgang Zaimond, professor of Cacophony and Grating Music at the John Cage Conservatory of Music. Alas, he rightfully dismissed the symphony out of hand. The work it seems was shamefully derivative of the work of late 19th century composers such as Brahms, Mahler, and Rachmaninoff. It was a hardly original counterpoint to Beethoven’s revolutionary works that sparked the Romantic revolution. Sad too that the manuscript wasn’t even in Beethoven’s hand, since that would have given it at least some value.

And now, as I line my garbage can with this now worthless reminder of a long gone past, it is nice to know that as we enter the new millennium, we still have some faith in progress, secure in the knowledge that the new will always surpass the old fashioned. I take to heart the adage that those who do not remember the music of the past are condemned to rewrite it. Thus, I am so, so glad that we will never need to hear the likes of Beethoven again!