Computers: dark magic?

Aaron Wells

Assistant A&E and Copy Editor

Sagebrush 4-10-2001

Do you actually know how a computer works? I mean, you know that you turn it on, you press buttons and stuff happens, but do you really know how it works? Ask around, see if you actually know anyone who really knows. You'll hear that it's all zeros and ones. Maybe, but what do they do? If you look it up in reference books at the library, you'll find information saying that the CUP processes instructions, and passes them back to memory, and the screen, and stuff. But it won't tell you how it actually works, how those zeros and ones translate to pictures of hamsters dancing on your computer screen.

And the truth is, no one knows. The actual functioning of computers is a mystery, unknown to anyone. Some say the government holds the keys. Some say it's magic. Some say, dark magic.

Computers make up the fabric of our society, but no one actually knows how they work. We have built a civilization upon spider webs, and it's sure to come crashing to the ground at any second.

Well... OK, just kidding. I actually do know how computers work. You can, too, if you take the right classes, say, CS 202, 203, 308, 236, and 336 for the same general overview I have. It's actually kinda simple, although the architecture of a computer spans so many levels of abstraction and construction that it takes about two or three years before you have the knowledge based to understand it.

People want to think that no one understands computers, though. They want to be able to distrust computers, since they don't understand computers themselves. That's why everybody was so eager for the Y2K bug to come and show all those programmers they weren't as smart as they thought they were, when they brought down all of civilization.

However, we programmers were as smart as we thought we were, and everyone had to get back to their iMacs and continue sending e-mail once they sobered up from the disappointing apocalypse-free New Year's Eve. Serves them right for not trusting technology.

I'm a computer science and English dual degree student, because I love to write, and I love to program computers. I weird out my computer science colleagues because many of them went into engineering so they would never have to write another essay until they die. I weird out my English classmates by having circuit diagrams and C++ code interspersed between my notes on Chaucer. And when I wear my Apple computers T-shirt, I seem to weird out everyone.

I've gotten repeated strange looks from computer science advisors, while the English professors have been generally more accepting of it. The computer science professors often wonder what I plan to do with the combination. The English professors usually try to brainstorm up things I could do with that combination. This perhaps reflects the fact that people usually study engineering just for the job offerings. Few students take engineering classes, in general, just out of love of learning. English, on the other hand, is a field one studies in spite of the job offerings. So English professors are much more sympathetic to the fact that I'm a dual major not because I have any specific job in mind, but just because I don't want to neglect one half of my mind because society wants me to specialize.

It's realistic to say that this is a degree combination for which there is virtually no demand in the corporations. It's good to be a programmer with good writing skills, and it's a plus to be a writer/editor who's skilled at computers, but there's absolutely no need to hold a degree in both. That's just pretentious indecision.

I'd like to be a professional fence-sitter. Half the day, I could program computers. The other half of the day, I could write about them.

More realistically, I'll just be unemployed. But at lest I understand how computers really work.