Brilliant Gibberish

Silicon Green

Silicon Green

I remember my first trip to the museum of natural science as a boy. My father had promised me that we would go as soon as school was out. I was 7 and still at that magical age where the promise of something so innocent and simple could fill me with unparalleled joy.

The crowds were immense as everyone had shown up on the same day for the same reason: to visit the traveling exhibit. The tension of excitement and anticipation overtook the atmosphere. I was forced to step carefully, dodging elbows and feet. They were not thrown at me out of malice, simply as a result of the fact of the density of the mob.

It was a hot summer's day in Los Angeles, and the experience of standing for hours on end on the sidewalk leading up to the museum was anything but pleasant. Many people tuned out the noise of conversation by activating their retinal implants and playing whatever game happened to be in fashion at the time.

It was an unnerving sight to me as a 7-year-old. My parents were the type who would never augment their eyes with technology, as were most of the people at the private school I attended. Despite the obvious attraction, a part of me knew that it was simply wrong.

When the line finally began moving in earnest it took a few sharp pokes to dislodge these people and prod them along. We managed to make it to the front door without succumbing to heat stroke, and in hindsight that was quite an accomplishment. I was exhausted and had no patience for the irritatingly tall people who blocked my view of the exhibit.

So, my father put me on his shoulders to stop my constant complaining. My eyes widened as I caught my first glimpse of that object I had only heard stories of from much older people: a tree.