Interesting metaphor for this, um, ratfink disease.
HAL, you have an enormous responsibility on this mission, in many ways perhaps the greatest responsibility of any single mission element. You’re the brain and central nervous system of the ship…
Unfortunately, that sounds a little like famous last words.
I had the pleasure of explaining CRPS to a doctor who isn’t mine, who really wanted to understand. After listening to me for 15 minutes nonstop, he summarized it perfectly.
He said, “It’s a bit like HAL, in 2001.”
I asked if I could borrow that.
I’ve culled movie quotes off the web and my CRPS compatriots can say how breathtakingly parallel they are. In no particular order:
Dr. Frank Poole:
… That would pretty well wrap it up as far as HAL was concerned, wouldn’t it?
Well, we’d be in very serious trouble.
We would, wouldn’t we. What the hell could we do?
Dave Bowman: [sigh]
Well, we wouldn’t have too many alternatives.
I don’t think we’d have any alternatives. There isn’t a single aspect of ship operations that isn’t under his control.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the central nervous system in a nutshell.
All right, HAL; I’ll go in through the emergency airlock.
Without your space helmet, Dave, you’re going to find that rather difficult.
HAL, I won’t argue with you any more! Open the doors!
Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
We’ve all had that happen!
Just what do you think you’re doing, Dave?
Um, trying to survive?
[Regarding an apparent problem which HAL itself falsified]
It can only be attributable to human error.
Swine. YOU did this, CRPS!
I know I’ve made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal. I’ve still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission. And I want to help you.
This reminds me of the “you have CRPS because you think wrong” school of thought. Right… thanks for the help… next time, suck the oxygen out of my atmosphere; that’d be a real help.
Hello, HAL. Do you read me, HAL?
Affirmative, Dave. I read you.
Open the pod bay doors, HAL.
I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t do that.
Because sometimes this system seems to get input, but it just won’t generate any output.
On providers trying to assess from outside:
X-ray delta one, this is Mission Control. Roger your two-zero-one-three. Sorry you fellows are having a bit of trouble. We are reviewing telemetric information in our mission simulator and will advise.
On trying different treatments:
Dr. Frank Poole:
Let’s see, king… anyway, Queen takes Pawn. Okay.
Bishop takes Knight’s Pawn.
Huh, lousy move. Um, Rook to King 1.
I’m sorry, Frank, I think you missed it. Queen to Bishop 3, Bishop takes Queen, Knight takes Bishop. Mate.
Huh. Yeah, it looks like you’re right. I resign.
Thank you for a very enjoyable game.
Yeah, thank you.
This movie says everything you need to know about what it takes to deal with this disease:
- It’s hard. Breathtakingly hard.
- We don’t really know where it came from, and we really don’t understand why.
- It’s crazy, and it does its best to make us crazy — and those around us.
- It takes away more than we knew we had to lose.
- We have to out-think it, even though it seems to stay 3 steps ahead of us.
- Persistence — unvarnished, absolute, bloody-minded persistence — is key. Even when you feel you can’t, take a breath and make the next move. Keep working.
- It seems impossible. It’s a harrowing thing to face, and has killed so many of us, in different ways.
- It sabotages our efforts to improve things.
- It’s worse than we could have imagined.
It really is like HAL.
So … Let’s remember who won.
Now a bit of Youtube for dessert, and a hopeful image for all in search of remission. Let’s pop those modules, one by one.