Like zombies in a George Romero film, our homes are being invaded by a relentless, mindless horde. The dread LED
Down the hall the living room pulses a slow, white light; the telltale heart of the powerbook's sleep LED, never to be stilled. The electric toothbrush, parked in its charger blinks non-stop piercing blue that fills the bathroom. Have the police pulled over a speeder in the toilet again?
They are precursors to sentient robots. First these insecure appliances with nervous LED personalities: "Look at me! I'm part of your lifestyle. Charging! Charging!" They are the illegitimate offspring of the talking cars, ill-conceived horrors which kept trying to convince us that "a door is a jar."
It's nice to know that the toothbrush is topped up on electrons and the computer is happily sleeping. But I only care about this information for a tiny fragment of a day or week. I don't need it blaring across my vision, illuminating the nights.
No appliance is critical or important yet each strives for attention. If we lose power, hey, how about NOT flashing midnight?
Let's send the blinking LED to the same unmarked grave as blinking web page text.
agree. where I live it is dark, dark. No street lights and even the full moon intrudes harshly. So now I have this flucuating light from my beloved iBook. Every night I turn it to the wall and cover it, and it still manages to be a night light.
Used to creep me out, the rise and fall of the PowerBook and its implication of the machine sleeping...and breathing.
But at least it doesn't snore.
Got to find a way to tell the Powerbooks how to sleep with BOTH eyes closed!
Nice story, Jer. I have often been surprised at just how MANY LEDs there are in my living room! What's a "nightlight", GrandPa?"
It's a cute effect but grows old with time (although I have used it to light my way down the stairway at night). Apple could put a sensor on the laptop edge, such that when you touched it the LED pulses a quick "I'm ok, you're ok" and goes back to sleep.
The toothbrush defies explanation. A steady LED maybe, but flashing? Maybe it's about to explode and I need to read the manual?
The door is NOT a jar. Maybe, ajar.
I think the toothbrush is just trying to say, "Wait! I'm not ready! No! Wait!"
the door is a jar
the door is a jar
*beep*