Is it a sign of stupidity that we’re not more troubled by all our smart technology?

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OH, THE HUMANITY. Or, in this case, lack thereof.

For this version of the light side of Pacific NW, we plunge digitally headfirst into what clearly qualifies as our new overlord — “smart technology” such as voice recognition and other forms of computer/human interaction — the imposition of which into every nook and cranny of our lives has left us all doing our best impressions of people waiting in a crowded room to audition for a zombie flick.

A confession: I am a large consumer of same, and if it all were yanked away one day, would be one of the first and foremost whiners. I also have friends and family who work in the field and, after reading this week’s cover story, all of them no doubt will find a good excuse to uninvite us to Thanksgiving this fall, my offers of fresh-from-the-oven flaky poppy-seed rolls notwithstanding.

THE FULL STORY: Ron Judd explains how to outsmart your smart technology

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Perhaps it’s a small price to pay for being on the cutting edge of digital criticism. Someone has to do it. Don’t they?

’Tis a feeble protest. As I write this in my home office, I can see a puck-shaped personal digital assistant, which answers to a female name, awaiting marching orders — or preparing, no doubt, at some point to issue its own.

The puck is only one of (I felt obligated to count) nearly a dozen digital devices in our home today capable of receiving a voice command, if you add up all the phones, tablets, voice-command pucks (not the fridge; nope, not yet; I draw the line at the crisper drawer!) and other portals to the online netherworld.

It should be troubling, but somehow it isn’t, and this, I think, is the problem with America today. (Please feel free to Tweet that.)

Not that I don’t trust people, companies, security measures and myself to keep them all secured, password-protected and safe from prying ears. But it’s always good to have a solid backup plan to protect personal privacy and one’s deepest thoughts.

At our house, that plan is to make sure that the audible — and sometimes written — conversations remain as overpoweringly banal as possible. As you’ll see in this week’s story.