Neuro-scion-ce
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2483553/The-brain-powered-CAR-Vehicle-monitors-driver-paying-attention-slows-theyre-distracted.html
They’ve done it, finally making the roads safer by slowing down your car for you…
Daily, the cars slow down without the wired-weird headset, distracting themselves
and doing the hard work anyway. Safer? No. Distracted? Yes. It’s called an iPhone.
At the red light, I daydream. I dream above traffic, dream into the
faux leather seats of my sedentary sedan, and pick my brain
to pick a place where the air conditioning is powered by the surf,
or where the only honking I hear comes not from the cars in the
intersection
but from the beaks of the geese, strutting along the surface,
bowing their heads to one another as if asking for a dance.
I’ll join them, of course, if they ask. I’ve wondered what their feathers
felt like up close and personal, because the last time I tried to pet
a goose, it bit me, its single toothed beak tearing into the fleshy part of my hand.
I still have a scar.
And now, if I don’t watch the greed to yellow to red in perfect synchronicity,
my drive into the city would be greatly hindered, puttering along slowly,
which I suppose would give me the time I needed to finally
see
the landscape.
-JR Simmang
They’ve done it, finally making the roads safer by slowing down your car for you…
Daily, the cars slow down without the wired-weird headset, distracting themselves
and doing the hard work anyway. Safer? No. Distracted? Yes. It’s called an iPhone.
At the red light, I daydream. I dream above traffic, dream into the
faux leather seats of my sedentary sedan, and pick my brain
to pick a place where the air conditioning is powered by the surf,
or where the only honking I hear comes not from the cars in the
intersection
but from the beaks of the geese, strutting along the surface,
bowing their heads to one another as if asking for a dance.
I’ll join them, of course, if they ask. I’ve wondered what their feathers
felt like up close and personal, because the last time I tried to pet
a goose, it bit me, its single toothed beak tearing into the fleshy part of my hand.
I still have a scar.
And now, if I don’t watch the greed to yellow to red in perfect synchronicity,
my drive into the city would be greatly hindered, puttering along slowly,
which I suppose would give me the time I needed to finally
see
the landscape.
-JR Simmang
Comments
Post a Comment