Why am I so terrible at keeping up with my blog?? I am currently coining the excuse that I’m too busy with my academics, which is pretty much true. Fortunately, I took a break from my bondage for the day and enjoyed a lovely day at the Biltmore this past Saturday because a fabulous friend of mine so graciously offered for me to go with her. There are many phenomena in Asheville, such as a pretend waterfall, old-school sketchy gas stations, and disappearing shuttles to name a few. But perhaps the most remarkable of such phenomena is the uncanny GPS meltdowns that are bound to occur once you enter Asheville’s jurisdiction. It’s like North Carolina’s version of the Bermuda Triangle. If it weren’t for all the commercials, I might possibly be convinced the Biltmore estate in fact does not exist. The closest my GPS could get us to it was some building downtown that had no semblance to said estate. Did I really pay money for this thing? I should get a refund for the gas it requires to take such a laborious “shortcut”. In Gary’s defense (the name I have so fondly bestowed on the Australian voice as a tactic to keep me from chucking him out the window) he never fails to figure out how to get home. How redeeming.
But while I am in the mood to criticize a mindless electronic device, I should probably turn my attention to myself and admit my own contribution to Gary’s failures. You see, even if Gary brings me into the near vicinity of my destination, yes, even within sight of it, but then tells me to turn away and go down another dark alley, I instinctively follow his omniscience. Perhaps you now notice that he’s not the one with the problem after all. Even if I can SEE the Biltmore entrance to my right, I decide it would be best to turn left according the Gary, deaf to my passenger’s cries of dismay at my evident stupidity. It’s hilarious, truthfully, and it makes for some good laughs because let’s be honest, I am NOT the only poor soul who does this. We are told on the back of his cardboard box that Gary can get you wherever you need to go, if only you will just do everything he tells you to. So even when we can actually see the right way to go, we follow the majority rule of a computer that is supposedly smarter.
This underlying elementary principle can be applied in a couple of ways—we can stop blindly following the majority labeled as “smarter,” regardless of where they lead us, or we can stop blindly following our GPSs down dark alleys.