Home computers are being called upon to perform many new

"Home computers are being called upon to perform many new functions, including the consumption of homework formerly eaten by the dog." These words, uttered by Doug Larson, capture with humor and insight the transformative role that technology has come to play in our everyday lives. In the not-so-distant past, the humble dog served as an inadvertent agent of chaos in many households, a creature notorious for its love of chewing and, on occasion, the homework of young students. But now, in this modern age, we see that computers, once simple tools for calculation and communication, have assumed a new role: they are the bearers of tasks both mundane and monumental. They are the ones to whom we turn when the work piles up, and the ones that help us organize, complete, and even store what once seemed like the daily burdens of human life.

The ancient world was not without its own tools and instruments—the wheel, the plow, and the loom were essential to the labor of the day. Yet, much like the home computer, these tools were never meant to replace the human hand but to amplify its power. The wheel did not diminish the strength of the ox that pulled it; rather, it expanded the possibilities of what could be achieved. And so it is with the home computer: far from diminishing our efforts, it has augmented our ability to complete tasks, communicate, and access knowledge at an unprecedented scale. Where once we wrote our letters by hand, now we type them on a machine that has become an essential part of the household.

In Doug Larson’s words, however, there lies a deeper reflection on the unintended consequences of technological advancement. The notion that homework, once a victim of the family dog, is now being consumed by the very machine we created for our own convenience is a reminder of how technology, while a tool of progress, can sometimes take over our lives in unexpected ways. The computer, in its ever-expanding role, has become the keeper of our memories, the processor of our ideas, and the solution to the problems we once solved with sheer human labor. The dog, once a playful intruder in the household, now seems a mere relic of a time when the lines between work and life were far more clearly drawn.

Consider the tale of Gutenberg, whose printing press revolutionized the way humanity exchanged knowledge. Before his invention, books were handwritten, a slow and labor-intensive process that limited the spread of ideas. With the advent of the printing press, the written word became widespread, and humanity entered a new age of intellectual growth. But just as Gutenberg’s invention shifted the balance of knowledge and labor, so too has the home computer altered our relationship with the everyday tasks of life. We no longer handwrite letters or memorize vast amounts of information; the computer has taken over those roles, and in doing so, has reshaped the very fabric of our existence.

The home computer, like all inventions before it, brings with it both blessings and burdens. It has liberated us from the shackles of tedious chores, yet it has also introduced new challenges. It has allowed us to access information and connect with others at the speed of light, but it has also created a world where overload is a constant companion. In Larson’s words, we see that the machines we build, with all their potential for good, can also take on roles we once handled ourselves. The dog’s old job of chewing homework has now been taken over by the digital age, with tasks that were once tangible now becoming intangible, floating in the virtual world, subject to the whims of an algorithm or the click of a mouse.

This paradox is a lesson for all of us: we must balance our reliance on technology with a reminder of the human touch. Just as the wheel did not replace the ox, the computer should not replace the human mind. Doug Larson’s witticism reminds us that while technology has made our lives easier, we must remain vigilant. The home computer is an instrument, not a master. It is the tool by which we accomplish our goals, not the force that drives them. To allow technology to consume more than it should—whether it is our work, our creativity, or even our play—is to lose something irreplaceable.

So, as you sit before your computer and reflect upon the many tasks it now performs, take a moment to consider the true value of the work it assists with. The dog no longer plays its part in the drama of the homework scenario, but the balance between man and machine remains a crucial one. Technology should serve us, not the other way around. Master your tools but do not let them master you. Let the home computer be an ally in your quest for knowledge and efficiency, but never forget the value of the human hand in the work that you do. The lesson is clear: in this age of machines, it is you who must remain the master of your own destiny.