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HONORING MY MOTHER | ALGORITHMIC BAGS OF BALONEY

Of all the subjects we learned in high school, Math, then Algebra and algorithms were my least favorites and the ones I would rather soon forget. Unlike those hare-fast wizard classmates of mine who whizzed past our first to fourth year of dealing with numerals, I was comparatively the lowly turtle. The only difference to that fable was I never won any race even if I tried. As a matter of fact during the second year of high school, I had to take summer classes because I failed during the regular school year. My only remaining incentive then in passing that summer Algebra class was, had I failed again, I would be in the same level as my younger brother during the incoming school year. Worse than that, we wouldn’t even be classmates because I’d be relegated to a lower section as he was in the A class.

After school however, the minor trauma of Math (or Maths in Aussie land) was like welcome water under the bridge. Even as I would still stiffen for a bit whenever I encountered minor calculations later in life, the science of it all had been lost in memory. At least until the coming of social media where I encountered the word algorithm again.

This time however, as my friend explained to me in simpler layman terms, if I ventured into a shoe store for example, I’d be up to my neck in everything that concerned footwear, plus others closely-related to feet. And so it was, during the totality of my digital experience, I’d always hear people say “it’s the algorithm of this and that…” as though one were doomed to wallow in whatever you fancied online at the moment. In a weird way, it reminds me of that old app in the 80s, ‘what you see is what you get’ or WYSIWYG, even though that may have been another different animal altogether. Or it could also be akin to “be careful what you wish for” in the horror movies.

Despite the fact that mine is not a math problem anymore, the consequence of constant popping up of advertisements, testimonials and whatever else related to my preferred pages atm often proves as invasive as cockroaches suddenly flying at your face. In a similar manner, if one made the mistake of posting a comment to whatever thread one was reading, the amount of trolls pouncing on you had the same effect and it’s never pleasant.

Moving away from the downside of it all, there is proof however that if one only dwelt in good everything, good energy, good company and good thoughts (which may prove difficult at times), especially amid all negative with the world, all will be well. This is not a religious Aha moment, mind you, it’s not even math. But on second thought, there’s exact science in that, so…

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