Booze, Birds, and a Barber

As far as I can tell, change is good. At the "Muppet Diplomacy" lecture this past Monday, Sesame Workshop CEO Gary Knell stated the obvious but still disturbing fact that our children, and our children's children, will grow up in a world that never knew what life was like before cell phones, Blackberrys, iPods, and wireless internet, to name just a few. Consequently, the organization is hoping to infiltrate the newer, faster forms of media by releasing "alphabet-promoting" podcasts. Technologically, nothing could slow electronic progress beyond the actual apocalypse, and companies will always strive to fix what isn't broken in an unending attempt to improve and make our lives better and faster. That being said, "high-tech" companies are far from assured to improve any community, as cited in the example of the IBM chip production in Lohr's New York Times article - factories will come and factories will go, regardless of what the factory is making.
Lohr's objectivity in his article, "New York Bets on High-Tech to Aid Upstate," made choosing a definitive stance difficult for me, though I want to point out a frightening detail that seems to have been glossed over - these microchips, and this overwhelming wealth of nanotechnological knowledge, are being used for video game consoles. The article does not state whether video games are the primary users of these chips (I certainly hope not), and I don't mean to harp on a detail, but, from my own ethical standpoint, how can this be a good investment for the Hudson Valley, or any community? What message does that send about the state of American culture, and, more importantly, future generations of Americans? Without proselytizing, I can't see any kind of benefit from promoting NFL Madden or even Wii Bowling, especially with the current onslaught of childhood obesity. And there is some cyclical irrationality to harmful (at least to me) entertainment being produced by highly-skilled, PhD-wielding workers.
I admit my own bias against the video game industry because I fail to see the sense and benefit in it - but, given the aforementioned lightning-paced rate of technological development, I feel we can assume that Xboxes will, eventually, be as absurd as the "caged bird retailer" frequently mentioned in Rae's Creative Destruction. One could argue that business is business, and therefore any business is good, but if we taper the argument to the Hudson Valley specifically, the right and wrong of "high-tech" industries becomes clearer.
Setting nostalgia aside, sleepy towns and mom-and-pop diners are quickly becoming a thing of the past. As we discussed briefly in class a few weeks ago, there are some psychological benefits to globalization - the argument that a Border's in Chicago and a Border's in Albany are still going to have a Seattle's Best Coffee, and more than likely the coffee will taste pretty much the same, and the "living-room" feel will also carry across the states. However, the Hudson Valley has proven its worth beyond sheer size and available space - historical, geographic, literary, and purely natural significance are all present - leading to continual debate about development and change that wouldn't be as present in, say, Tulsa Oklahoma. Unfortunately, the cultural wealth of the Hudson Valley is just that - cultural, not monetary (how much money do you think the Olana Estate brings in versus the Wal-Mart in the next town over?). In Foderado's article, housing developments are largely contested on the basis of losing "quirky character" to "hundreds of cookie-cutter housing units." I agree with Mr. Thing in prescribing a return to the past, in renovating and restoring some of the Hudson houses and buildings. The Hudson Valley may become a fantastic backyard for New York City, but, truthfully, isn't it already? And, if not, the trend of urban sprawl will certainly force it to be, sooner or later.