Yesterday we had our tax appointment. Due to some lovely new adoption credit tax laws and the fact that zoo monkeys earn more than we do, Hubby and I are going to get a lot of money back this year. LOTS. A buttload, to be precise. Nope. Don’t even ask, I will not tell you on account of the fact that;
- it’s downright embarrassing and
- I’m liable to break into giddy hysterics and drop my laptop.
To be clear, Hubby and I ALWAYS get a refund. Remember? I told you about our brilliant and well-reasoned actions as related to taxes last year. (here) Basically, using our keen, financial minds, we decided that we can not be trusted with our own money and just let the government hold it for us, via the route of not claiming any offspring or spouses on our W-2 withholdings. Then, very nicely, the government sends it back to us in the spring, whereupon we promptly blow it on frivolities; credit card payments, education IRAs and chinese take out. Holla!
For like, five minutes we are rich. I look forward to it all year. But the weirdest thing happens every single time…We return from yon tax man, smiles upon our faces and immediately some large and necessary mechanical device will sputter, choke to a stop and/or start smoking.
How do they DO that?
Yesterday, YESTERDAY was our appointment. Today our mini-van began spewing coolant. Really?! Couldn’t let me bask in the glory of extra money (Extra! Owed to no man!) for a full twenty-four hours? That’s just cold.
“Now, Lanie,” you are saying, in a placating and reasonable tone, “that mini-van is over 10 years old. You have driven that thing to death, clearly some routine maintenance is to be expected.”
First? Shut up. Second, sorry; this happens with far too much frequency to be coincidental. See, I’ve seen the Matrix, I know how this all goes down. We keep adding computer chips to everything, which seems like a good idea, but now my coffee maker is more intelligent than I am! (Go ahead! Test us. On any given morning only one of us is coherent enough to tell time and it isn’t me.)
I think that not only are the machines in my home smarter than I, but that they’ve gotten together and decided that they don’t like me at all. The facts; three years ago I had just returned with the taxes and noticed a big pool of water and rancid smell emanating from our refrigerator. Two years ago was the whole broadcast/digital nonsense. That stupid converter box was no help at all. (clearly, it was in cahoots with our former TV.) Last year, it was car trouble, once again.
The only thing keeping the machines from full-out malicious mayhem is their limited mobility. But, wait..!
A group of students in Hong Kong are working to store electronic data in bacteria! They are introducing the unholy mingling of organic matter and computers! Oh…this is not good. Currently the only thing my appliances can do to me is commit suicide and thereby empty my bank account. This…THIS??!!!…is a whole other can of worms.
Your future, microscopic overlords.
According to the article this field of study is called biocryptography and while the current focus is data storage, they may one day be able to make up a functional computer. Bacteria is apparently desirable because large chunks of data can be stored on individual cells — then copied and disseminated as the bacteria reproduce;
“This means you will be able to keep large datasets for the long term in a box of bacteria in the refrigerator,” said Aldrin Yim, a student instructor on the university’s biostorage project.
See?!! I KNEW my refrigerator was in on this, somehow.