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The Thought Didn't Even Register

Was downstairs making supper earlier, when Dad said he had just talked to Adam about "it", but wanted to make sure I knew as well. Apparently Mom and Dad have decided to do without any sort of charge card now, because they received new Visa cards in the mail the other day, and they have those chips on / in them, which are apparently evil or, in their words "a sign of the end times". I'm quite interested in seeing what happens if and when banks start putting them on *debit* cards, because we've already gotten a couple at work (Canada Trust and BMO, namely), and if those banks are doing it, sooner or later all the rest will, and it'll effectively become one of those things that you only realize is different when you look back at what it used to be like.

So anyways, as the title says, what Dad had to say didn't even come to mind the first time I ran into one of those cards. At that moment, I was busier trying to figure out how to get the card payment system at work to accept them, and the directions have since been figured out, and written down on two pieces of thick paper and taped to the counter by both tills so anybody that doesn't know how to use them can follow the instructions. Of course, that doesn't help Steve have any more patience to accept the things, but at this point, he's more or less just biding his time anyways, and I won't say any more about that. Even if I had thought of that though, I just really can't bring myself to care. It's a chip, and as much as anything in the bible may say against them / the idea of having all identifying information about one's self in one place, it's a part of life these days.

Honestly, it's their choice to not use the cards, but it became something I figured I'd mention after he explained specifically why they wouldn't be using them, and said I could ask if I had any questions. Dear Mom and Dad: it has been a long time since I asked you any serious question outside of "Can I get a tattoo?" I like to make my own choices about mostly everything, which means the last thing I'll be doing is asking you questions. At least about that.

Amusingly enough, Naomi shares my opinion (at least the "I don't care" part of it), but that's more of a coincidence than anything. She also, however, just asked Mom to grab some cookies from downstairs for her (freshly baked), so I am going to go do the same before they're all gone~

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