January 16, 2005
Simple Company
When I was growing up, I wanted a hamster like the other kids in my class, but my mother had equated "hamster" with a rat or mouse. I showed her my zoological analysis (reviewed by my teachers) to prove that although they were similar, hamsters were sufficiently different from rats and mice to justify my proposed venture. The term "peer review" had no currency in my home, and thus hamsters never happened in my early life ... which caused me to later fear little furry animals. (Causality in this case of course cannot be proven, but we all try to guilt our parents somehow.)
Eight or so years ago, there was a program at the local elementary school where the children could bring the pet hamster home for a week. I don't remember his name, but I do recall the pride of suddenly having a son in a family full of daughers. That was around the time I had a terrible caffeine addiction where every night at 11PM I would mix 3 to 4 tablespoons of instant coffee into a single cup of boiling water. This magic elixir would keep me going until 4 or 5 AM in spite of a long professorial day at MIT. But that one week we had Foo (let's call him that because it's convenient and MIT-like), I had extra company at night. Foo would be running and running around in his little hamster cage as if to cheer me on. "Go Daddy! Go!" ... I later learned that Foo was probably running around so much because he was confused by the man that kept the lights on all night and was screwing up Foo's body clock. Poor Foo.
A couple years ago when I was just about to leave the Ginza area of Tokyo for Narita Airport on a return to Boston, I was united with a new Foo. This time Foo wasn't a hamster to become a victim of mental torture, but instead Foo was manifested as a little robotic plant on sale at the Ginza florist. Designed and manufactured by toymaker Tomy, this little robotic plant is solar-powered and gently flaps its plastic leaves with a rocking motion. You shouldn't confuse Foo (he's actually called a "Flip Flap") with those terrible robotic plants that dance when you sing to them or else say lude remarks as you pass by. No ... Foo is a noble little fella that sits there quietly, and silently moves while expressing his extreme joy when in the presence of solar energy.
As I sit there and work on my computer, Foo does his exercises while he basks in the sun. Foo reminds me that it's important to sleep at night because when the sun goes out, Foo does too. But I need some company sometimes in the wee hours of the night while I'm thinking away, so I might flick on my halogen desklamp and shine it at Foo. Foo responds with his happy waving of his leaves. After all, the excess UV radiation from the halogen might be harmful to humans, but Foo readily slurps it all up. They should take him up into space.
Human-inflicted torture on a robotic lifeform? Perhaps. Politically incorrect? Not yet, but definitely so in the future. So I do my best to let Foo sleep, and only ask the favor once in a while like a good human should.
Thoughts On Simplicity By John Maeda