Email comments to Barbara

Wanted: Computerbuffs
Dead Or Alive

Barbara Anton

Click here for Bio

Return to Archive

Let's boot Grandma up on the old computer and have a chat. No matter that she's been dead for twenty years. According to a recently published report, a Japanese computer company has developed a personal computer that is able to process signals from the dead.

A spokesman for the company is quoted as saying that an omni-sensitive receiving device can pick up extremely faint electrical impulses and patterns that current machines can't even detect. Because of this, the PC, priced at $10,000, is employed in a wide variety of new uses, including receiving and processing signals from what are believed to be dead spirits. It's claimed that the dead can be successfully contacted in almost any weather or atmospheric condition in about 87% of attempts.

So, you hackers who think being separated from your computer is a fate worse than death, don't despair. You can, apparently operate computers from either side of the veil.

But alas, just as computers can bring people back from the dead, they can kill them off as well. A Denver woman, age 72, when notified by her doctor's receptionist that she was dead, refused to believe it. She didn't abandon her skepticism even when informed by Medicare that, as far as the United States government was concerned, she was deceased. She started to protest in earnest when mail addressed to "the estate of," began arriving.

It seems the confusion began when the unfortunate woman was released from the hospital after a bout with the flu. A spokesman for the Social Security office thought a computer error (read human error) entered "date of death" instead of "date of discharge."

The ladies protests fell on deaf computer chips, and the national agency's system stubbornly refused to bring her back to life. Finally, a local Social Security office cleared up the matter.

Now, the resurrected, retired maid is once again enjoying life with her bridegroom of eight months. However, she's kept her former name. She figures it would be tempting fate to reenter the computer arena to change to her married name.

Unfortunately, computer technology enables man to display both noble and ignoble characteristics.

Stanton Powers, a thirty-nine year old artist, subsisting on Social Security disability payments, realized either an exceptionally noble attribute or a dastardly plunder--you be the judge.

It's alleged that Mr. Powers found himself in front of an automated teller machine at the county bank of Santa Cruz, California, where he contemplated his bank balance of $1.17, and decided that only an act of God could provide for his needs. He later told bank and police officials that as he prayed, his bank balance on the screen slowly changed until his account had grown to $1,600.

One would think that this sudden windfall would allow the struggling artist to go home and get a good night's rest, but that was not the case. Mr. Powers, unable to sleep, returned to the bank at 5:30 A.M. for further prayer and supplication. He prayed until his account registered $4,443,642.71. He then withdrew $2,000 and went home, perchance to dream.

When bank officials discovered Mr. Power's new multi-million dollar balance, they immediately froze his account and began an investigation.

Powers hired a lawyer, who announced in hushed senatorial tones, "Not being prepared to deny the existence of God, I am requesting that the bank show us empirical evidence that it was an error."

The bank's lawyer responded with, "I'm not prepared to discount acts of God in any way, but I really doubt that is a factor in this matter."

To which Power's lawyer countered, "I don't see how Mr. Powers could be charged with anything other than being a very religious man. The law would have to decree that miracles cannot happen. I don't think that the American justice system is prepared to extend into the realm of the Deity." He advised Mr. Powers to keep the $2,000.

This was not the last questionable manipulation of an innocent computer. Currently personal computers are being used for everything from bank and insurance fraud to international spying. In one ten-year period, some 64,000 fake insurance policies involving over $2-billion were created on the computer of the Equity Funding Corporation. In one year alone, $14-billion worth of illegal checks were drawn with computer manipulation. As the years pass, fraud escalates.

As reprehensible as computer criminals may be, there's an even greater threat to our peace of mind. Please don't bend, staple, or mutilate me for bringing this to your attention, but nuclear war is just one computer error away. Make that, one human error. The 151 false alarms that put intercontinental ballistic missile units into the alert mode, via computer, were all ultimately traced to human error.

Perhaps the most suitable punishment for computer crime would be a sentence to serve time in the $11.5 million computer-controlled detention facility in Baltimore County. Sheriff Charles H. Hickey described numerous problems with the building, including faulty computer-controlled cameras, that were supposed to pan the building continually to insure security. Unfortunately, the cameras had to be turned off after every half-hour of surveillance and rested for two hours to cool off to prevent motor burnout.

Should an inmate opt to try an escape during these two hours, he'd better be prepared for malfunctioning computer-controlled locks that sometimes don't open, trapping people in various parts of the jail. One computerized door that malfunctioned chopped off a fingertip.

Perhaps jousting with these malfunctioning computers would be preferable to a stay inside, since the solar heating system froze solid in the mid-winter months. Maybe that's why it's the only solar heating system installed in a U.S. detention center. Obviously some adjustments were indicated. Sheriff Hickey's first move was to put a non-computerized lock on the front door. Good thinking, Sheriff.

But all is not confusion, corruption, and mishaps. A California-based company has just released a floppy disk collection of the jokes of the venerable comedian, Milton Berle. Known as the Thief of Bad Gags, Berle has compiled 10,000 yuks, broken down into 601 alphabetized categories. You can call an appropriate joke up on your computer for any occasion, perhaps even one that a deceased relative would enjoy.

Ultimately, we can laugh with the computer, work with it, lie, cheat, and steal with it, but apparently, dead or alive, we're going to have to learn to live with it.


Return to Top