Part 9
According to recent research, only 30 percent of the world’s population owns a computer and most of those use one just for email or Internet.
When ExoBrain launches, because of its simplicity of operation (as well as the remarkably modest fee of US$15 a month), a massive infusion of new clients will occur. Conceivably, within a few years, the majority of the world’s population will be linked into a simple, secure system that takes the tears out of IT, and I will no longer have to call myself a technophobe.
Looking back, I realize that not only will disadvantaged people be able to access ExoBrain, but so too will a sizeable number of other people, who for various reasons have ignored today’s computer world entirely. Some of these people will quickly realize that their previous aversion to computing was subconsciously correct, even if they assigned other reasons for it. They also will join the stampede towards computing sanity.
I recall an example of such a person who, although he at one time virtually controlled the global market in Persian and Oriental rugs, would not touch a computer. Probably the most bizarre writing assignment of my life involved this man.
We met in the lounge of a five-star hotel in Johannesburg. He knew of my history as a film and television writer and said that if I were prepared to be interviewed in New York, two days hence, returning to South Africa the same day and if it was acceptable to the interviewee, I would be commissioned to write a television series.
I countered by saying that I had only spent one day in New York previously, and if I went I would want to stay there at least a week. He agreed and arranged for me to stay in his apartment which doubled as his office when he was in residence there. He would not be coming but felt I could learn something about the Oriental rug business while I was there, which was the major theme of the TV series.
I was interviewed by a tough but ultimately wonderful New York lady in her fifties who had her own rug and carpet business. I passed the test, and entered the intriguing and sometimes dubious world of Oriental rugs. My brief was to create a series that pitted the world of intrinsic worth such as art collections, antique furniture, bloodstock, gold, and of course, rare rugs and carpets, against the world of paper wealth and oil.
It was an incredible adventure that took me to Kentucky in the week of the Kentucky Derby, where if you didn’t own horses you were nobody! I met wealthy connections in Britain, then took a trip to Istanbul with a dash across the Bosphorus into Asia Minor to the village of Hereke where they still produce some of the most fabulous silk rugs on the planet. I also visited art galleries in Geneva, as well as just down the road, a staggering stock of Oriental carpets in the lakeside village of Montreux. Switzerland.
But the point of this story is the man who orchestrated my assignment, who shall be nameless. The term eccentric genius probably fits him best. I met him again in London, some weeks into my journey. His idea of a “meeting” was for me to take the London Underground on a train that stopped at a certain station at 10:30 p.m. He boarded the train and met me, as arranged in the third carriage from the front. I was to discover that he spent much of his life meeting on trains and at airports, always carrying one and sometimes two huge legal briefcases virtually bursting at the seams with documents, but never a laptop.
The man would arrive at an airport and spend endless time on their landline telephones, never a mobile. He would only board a flight when a final, desperate call was made to him by name to board the plane. He would visit up to five countries in Europe in a day, and despite being considerably overweight, he seemingly had an endless source of energy.
This interlude that proved that fact can often be stranger than fiction had a dramatic ending. I had written three episodes and a treatment of the entire series in a massive three-volume presentation, which Hollywood had largely ignored. I was back in New York and was finally making some progress with a large production house, when the New York lady called me in and offered me the good news or the bad news. I chose the bad news first.
Our man had finally collapsed and was seriously ill in hospital. Furthermore, his entire business empire had folded and the man was suddenly destitute. He did not even have the price of an air ticket for me to return home to Johannesburg. The good news was that the lady pulled out a ticket that she had paid for herself. Angels come in strange packages!
The moral of the story is that had the man been introduced to the ease-of-operation ExoBrain system, he might have cut down on his frantic lifestyle and perhaps saved not only his health but his business, as well.
ExoBrain behaves like a person. It can emulate human thought, making computing easier for you. And just like my angel in New York, isn’t that a kind of miracle too?