I'd quite happily be a passenger through life, but who's going to wash my clothes? A boy accustomed to talking about modern technology with his friends looks at a washing machine and thinks, 'is that all there is to it?'
If he's unfortunate enough to have to deal with girls who won't or can't turn their back on Progress he might have to endure being told about a modern stove, and a modern fridge; not to mention suction cleaners that break every time you try to create a vacuum with them. How the thing works has generally been left for boys to think about. It's pretty convenient to rely on a new generation that supposedly doesn't have this gender divide around technology, but this would allow people who claim to have better memories, on average, to let themselves think that we've forgotten just who was punting digital technology while disallowing us--for being single men--to doubt the necessity of maids.
Not having a floor that my parents can eat off of--for they will be the only visitors saving single men and charitable women, who will either look at the girlish curtains or hunt down the dirt--I must think to myself about washing machines that simulate a few hamsters in a wheel, for the greater convenience of the operator. Information that may surprise those who gave birth to us--more than one thinker means more than one mother--is that everyone, without exception, has told me to treat myself as a special case.
In everything except being independent.
The idea of perfect technology, in my time, made me a sitting duck; for unknown forces were getting us to compare the mind to the computer, and then getting us to look at the word, perfection, in comparison to what was in front of us. I have to say, unknown forces, or else we will be looking for bad men. But a Bad Man and I might have looked deeper into the matter, so that one day, the two of us having coffee together, the people who said I have no equal will look at us and say, 'we can't tell the two of you apart.'
Putting aside the attempt at attaching 'mathematical' to 'algorithm' by divine right, we look at a world of growing lads, some of whom might be comparing error factors with error values and wondering why no-one will listen to them. Restricting floats to effect alone--which includes the simulation of hamsters in a wheel--we stop complaining about the use of Foundation, for good design is defined as what pleases us most. As to inherent algorithms, such as how one thing may lead to another, I do have one perfect edge. But instead I look at the matter of sharing native machine code, for with everything else we may claim the Details are somebody else's problem.
Now there's an idea, which though a repetition of what we were doing when we were being told that there's nothing new under the sun (we assume Atlantis had microwave ovens) is more interesting than worrying ourselves about how we're adding to the disintegration of modern civilization by living in a pig sty.
It's all just a game, isn't it?