the thing i used to like about SF short stories was the leap in imagination that the writer takes, like Robert Silverberg’s robot pope from “Good news from the Vatican”:
“If he’s elected,” says Rabbi Mueller, “he plans an immediate time-sharing agreement with the Dalai Lama and a reciprocal plug-in with the head programmer of the Greek Orthodox church, just for starters…”
“What does he look like?” Miss Harshaw asks.
Rabbi Mueller removes his sunglasses… “I can tell you that his Eminency is tall and distinguished, with a fine voice and a gentle smile…”
“But he’s mounted on wheels, isn’t he?” Kenneth persists.
“On treads,” replies the rabbi, giving Kenneth a fiery, devastating look. “Treads, like a tractor has. But I don’t think treads are spiritually inferior to feet, or, for that matter, to wheels…”
Isaac Asimov had a story about a presidential election, “election day 2084″. Just one person, chosen by machine as a representative of the voting public, gets to decide who gets elected. Everyone remembers the guys name, as in the “Brown election”, being Mr Brown who got to decide, rather than Brown being the President. One ordinary Joe with a huge weight on his shoulders. But not even Asimov, not even by 2084, could have imagined that someone such as Sarah Palin could ever get elected to anything outside of a PTA. Reality TV has paved the way for the Browns of this world not just to decide an election, but to be elected. we don’t care that she knows nothing, has no experience. we warm to her, she’s doing her best after all.
the real problem, of course, is that it isn’t any computer that’s chosen Palin, but Karl Rove, or someone like him. Choosing her was a stroke of near genius. and who’s to say it won’t work, or that she might make a good VP or even President. Thatcher always said that running a country was like running a home. maybe a hockey-mom isn’t inferior to a real politician, or for that matter . . .
