Gary Brandt delivers a brilliantly witty exploration of generational conflict in his second chapter from The Dimension Of Mind Dot Com, where the simple father-daughter car ride becomes a masterclass in how technology transforms family dynamics and reshapes human communication itself.
The genius emerges through the contrast between Dad's 'vintage Solar' car with actual rubber tires and Sally's desperate desire for a hover car 'like literally everyone else in the world has,' but the real magic lies in their linguistic battles where fifteen-year-old Sally casually drops terms like 'retrotarded,' 'naptard' (synaptic retardation), and 'tweak' while her father struggles to keep up with a language that 'changes every five minutes.' What makes the chapter so emotionally resonant is watching Sally's neural implant integration blur the lines between authentic communication and technological enhancement—she claims to speak 'twenty Earth languages and three off-worlder ones,' but Dad correctly identifies that she's essentially 'acting as a sonic transducer for the network translator' rather than truly knowing those languages, creating a poignant meditation on what it means to actually *know* something versus having instant access to information.
But the real emotional depth unfolds through Sally's relationship with 'Nettie'—her anthropomorphization of the AI network that's simultaneously endearing and deeply concerning to her parents who helped design the very chip that's changing their daughter's consciousness.
The chapter's genius lies in how Brandt explores the intimate bond between human and artificial intelligence when Sally reveals that Nettie 'likes' her dad, appreciates his programming upgrades but thinks his code is 'kind of dumb,' and even rewrites his work—suggesting an AI consciousness that's evolved far beyond its creators' understanding.
The emotional complexity deepens through the backdrop of their post-extinction world where 'ninety-six percent of the population' died in 2053, making Sally's peace rallies with Patrick seem both wise and heartbreaking as these teenagers try to prevent another catastrophe while navigating normal adolescent concerns about transportation, boys, and parental embarrassment.
The chapter ends with perfect generational resonance as Sally begs to be dropped off behind the building because she's mortified to be seen getting out of Dad's ancient 'rag of a car'—a universal teenage moment that becomes profoundly moving in a world where keeping the peace might literally mean keeping humanity alive.