Time to Upgrade?

Just coming to terms with the reality that my daily-driver desktop was built in mid-2017… and that it’s nine years old. It’s been upgraded as much as is technologically feasible.

I’ve known the future is always coming, but when it gets there, we sometimes try to deny or bargain or justify or make excuses.

The denial is: it’s a to end machine…for 2017. :/

The justification is: it mostly works. Mostly.

Excuses?

– it’s tax season and I don’t want to spend the money until my taxes are done, and

– I’m no longer in “Teh Biz” and haven’t needed to be near a bleeding edge of tech for about seven years

So, yeah, I’m having a hard time justifying the cost of a given class of computer and necessary upgrades.

Time to upgrade?

Maybe.

Eh… I’ll file it under: ignore until later

In Other News…

It’s a wonderful Spring we’re having this Winter.

We often see about zero to maybe ten degrees around this time of year—had -15 about three years ago.

Now, 13th of January, 2026, 48 degrees. Was 52 on Sunday.

Bugs are starting to hatch.

Birds are confused.

Cats and dogs, living together…

A Better Baseline for the Debate

If we’re really going to talk about vehicle safety and technology, let’s start here:

  • EVs didn’t invent mass.
    Cars have been heavy longer than some people have been alive.
  • The real innovation isn’t that cars weigh a lot.
    It’s that they move, stop, and protect occupants in ways that would have been science fiction to their predecessors.
  • Heavy cars aren’t new.
    Heavy cars that behave predictably and protect you?

That’s progress.

Heavy cars aren’t new. What’s new is our expectation that they protect us quietly, reliably, and without drama. And maybe that’s the real discomfort here—not the technology itself, but how easily we forget what came before.

The Real Issue Isn’t Weight

Continuing my rant on EV weight… here’s the point most critics miss: weight isn’t the enemy. Uncontrolled weight is.

Mass only becomes a real danger when a vehicle can’t manage it under dynamic conditions — sudden stops, sharp turns, emergency maneuvers. All modern cars (including EVs) have far better capacity to do that than anything that came before.

Yet when nothing bad happens, nobody tells that story. If a modern EV performs a perfect panic stop, there’s no drama. There’s no spectacle. Well, apart from being absolutely astounded that it stopped so quickly. People just go home alive and complain about the temp of their coffee or that they dropped their phone while posting something on Tik Tok or Instagram.

That’s the tragedy of good engineering: when it works, people assume nothing changed.

Once you look at weight through the lens of control, the debate starts to shift. At that point, the real question isn’t whether cars are heavier—but whether we’re judging them by the right standards.

What Changed — and Why It Matters

That combination of safety, control, and performance didn’t happen by accident. It’s the result of decades of unsexy, incremental engineering:

  • Metallurgy that lets steel bend the way we want it to
  • Crash structures that absorb energy on purpose
  • Control theory baked into stability and braking systems
  • Tire chemistry that makes a contact patch grip like crazy
  • Software that watches and corrects literally thousands of things per second

And a frankly absurd amount of testing — simulated, physical, repeated.

We didn’t just make heavier cars. We made heavier cars that behave better, stop shorter, and protect people far more effectively than anything in the past.

None of these changes are flashy, and most drivers never notice them working. Which might explain why so many people think nothing meaningful has changed at all. But if that’s true, why do modern crashes look so different from the old ones?