And the Winner Is? Who knows?

In six days one of the biggest shows of the year is taking place in Cleveland, OH. It is the first of what appears to be eleven Republican debates. Of course the first debate in either party is always the most exciting, because of the size of the field, and the wide open nature of the forum. At this point nobody has really established a loyal following, all of the voters are just walking down the buffet line, trying a little of this, in the past it might have been a little taste of Gingrich on a Balanced Budget roll, or perhaps a little Kerry on an Increased Educational Opportunity wafer. Normally, nobody has really picked a main course yet.

"The Donald" has thrown a monkey wrench into the works. He has taken a commanding lead in the polls, mostly by not really answering questions. Always a good tactic this early, but "the Donald" has taken this to new heights. Sometimes he doesn't answer the question while it is still being asked, talking right over the top of the press person.

It is not too difficult to imagine Donald Trump talking from the beginning of the debate to the end, without stopping. Moderators fidgeting nervously with microphones, pens and note cards. Other candidates watching in helpless terror as the debate is turned into the latest installment of reality television.

How would this play in America. Probably pretty well if the current slate of programming is any
indication. It could turn into Presidential Survivor, or Presidential Professional Wrestling. A weekly display of brutality, subterfuge, and oversized egos and personalities. All vying for the love, or despisement of the American television audience. Or, if it should be a little lighter it could be more like the Harlem Globetrotters barnstorming across the country, winning game after game against a determined but over matched foe.

Of course, the politicians who are not practiced reality television stars are not in favor of the transition. Across Iowa and New Hampshire they are meeting with advisers, and coaches, and strategists about the best way to combat the Trump menace.

Rob Portman, from Ohio, who seems to be a pretty decent guy, considering he is a politician, said the best tactic in this situation would probably be "one liners, and humor." Avoid getting drawn into the rhetoric, and anger. It could draw attention to a candidate and become a clip shown again and again. He stopped short of suggesting a "Last Comic Standing" approach, but it might work.

Anyway, things are warming up. I am stocking up on snacks, something healthy, and drinks, probably carbonated water, and getting ready for the first show down of the year. It could be epic. I hope the good guy wins.

Virtual Reality, the early days.

Virtual reality is big news today.  A couple of years ago it was kind of banal.  A few years before that it was a huge idea.  We, here at Life Explained, were riding the cusp of technological innovation that made VR possible in the late 90s.

Yes, things were a little bit rougher in those days. Giant leaps in processor abilities, and the addition of three dimensional printers have facilitated the construction and programming of headsets, and the environments portrayed.

In the exciting early days, though, we had to produce all of the hardware by hand. Which, since we wanted it to be as real and immersive as possible, was not an easy task. Little tubes ran the length of the suit to provide cooling or heat, depending on the "Reality" being portrayed. Fans were installed to simulate wind in key locations, and water was splashed from little reservoirs to produce ocean waves, or a drink thrown in a face, again, depending on the simulation being run.

It was a tough sell getting the first volunteer to try it out, but a few glasses of wine and casually dropped promises of stardom, and adoring fans provide a powerful incentive. And, Bob, from Legal Services volunteered, he was a hero.  Our hero, anyway.

He chose the "Prehistory Adventure" and he was off. We had a team of programmers monitoring the adventure parameters, and engineers watching the metrics of the suit. We even brought in several physicians to watch Bob's vital statistics, just as a precaution.

"Adding herbivores, now."  Came the terse comment over the headsets.

Bob's heart rate rose, slightly, and his breathing was normal, his blood pressure was holding strong.  Things were going well.

"How are you holding up, Bob?"  Someone asked.

"Great, this is great. The Brachiosaurus seems so real, I can even smell the aroma released when it chews the leaves. I can't wait to try the deep space adventure."

"Fantastic, Bob, that is fantastic." The lead programmer said.

"Bob is starting to panic."  Came the voice of one of the doctor's.  "His heart rate, BP, and oxygen levels are starting to climb."

A whimpering sound grew into a panicked wale, as Bob started to run blindly around the room.  Bouncing wildly off the walls, the tether wrapped around his feet, and he fell in a heap on the hard, white floor. Screams were bouncing off the polished, sterile walls, echoing until it sounded like there were 4 or 5 Bob's trapped in the "simulation."

It was an awful sound, a sound that still haunts the people who were there.

Of course, we rushed in, after finishing our donuts, and taking a sip of coffee to calm our nerves. It was traumatic for us, you know?

After removing Bob from the suit, and giving him some coffee, and some donuts, glazed, chocolate covered with sprinkles, and cream filling.  They were a little more expensive, but he earned them, we thought, some of us, anyway.

When he had sufficiently recovered we asked him what had happened to scare him so much.

"It was awful, just terrible, me and this caveman named Fred were talking to this little, green spaceman, and nobody would believe us, no matter how hard we tried to convince them. They kept laughing in our faces, oh the horror."

Turns out Bob, from HR, had mistakenly hired a Programming specialist, not a Programmer specialist. And his last gig was at a small, local station with a small budget.  You live and you learn, right?  Good thing we couldn't afford Steven Spielberg, that could have been really bad.

Then the bottom fell out of VR, everybody was all hung up with PDAs and pagers, and phones that were carried around in a bag.  So, we moved on.  It might be time to dust off the old suit and give it another shot. Any volunteers?