ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, July 7, 1996 TAG: 9607080021
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
COLUMN: Dispatches from rye hollow
SOURCE: STEVE KARK
In the New River Valley these days, finding disciples of the church of the new technology is about as easy as finding pig tracks in a barnyard.
More than this, those who worship at the altar of the microchip use a language all their own, one in which superlatives are spread around like chicken feed. Roads have become "smart." Information is dispersed on electronic "super" highways, instead of being swapped over the back fence as in the not-too-distant past.
Needless to say, this new world includes bits you don't put in a horse's mouth, webs that aren't made out of spider silk and nets that aren't used for landing fish.
Regrettably though, as much as I deplore so many aspects of the new religion, it's getting increasingly difficult for me to criticize it myself. Unless one lives in a cave and avoids all contact with the outside world, there's a fairly good chance he or she uses it in one way or another.
Even here in Rye Hollow we hardly embrace a druidic lifestyle. We are not unfamiliar with the new religion ourselves.
Indeed, like their urban counterparts, everyone, even in the most remote parts of our valley, can share in the new technology.
They can watch television programs that are beamed down from a satellite 24,000 miles above the equator.
If they have a phone - and it's likely they will - a computer and a modem, they can link to a world-wide web of information. They can read live feeds from an expedition on Mount Everest. They can take a virtual tour of the Vatican. Or they can even e-mail the president if they want.
For my own part, I'm fascinated by these recent developments. I guess you could say it's become a habit of sorts. I check my e-mail at least twice a day. I read the electronic versions of several newspapers on a regular basis, including this paper, and both the New York and London Times.
Additionally, I've saved links to a variety of other Internet sources. I look up books on Bookwire. I read about new dinosaur research through a Canadian museum's web page. I even learned about building a water garden through GardenNet. The possibilities seem endless.
But all this technology does not come without a price. I find myself spending more and more time in front of the computer screen.
When the disciples of the new religion say that the new technology connects us to the whole world, they aren't, at least in one sense, far off the mark. A problem develops, however, when we fail to recognize the superficial level of this connection.
For many, the more we find ourselves connected to the new technology the more we find ourselves disconnected, at a more personal level, from the world just outside our doors.
This became apparent to me recently when I found myself downloading birdcalls on our home computer. At the time, I didn't recognize the irony of my situation.
There I was, absolutely captivated by the birdcalls I heard through the computer, while just beyond the open window birds in our own woods often sing from dawn till dusk, a veritable symphony compared to the computer's tinny melody.
What I'm suggesting here is that this little episode may be a lot more common than we would like to believe. I worry that increasing numbers of people may be spending more time connecting in this way than they do connecting by stepping outdoors and experiencing their world firsthand.
There's no way we can avoid the new technology; it has too much to offer. At the same time, though, we also ought to consider how it affects the way we relate to our world, especially as it concerns its effect on our unique and precious valley.
Let's not be so dazzled by the novelty and potential of something new that we fail to recognize the value in what we already have.
LENGTH: Medium: 72 linesby CNB