Day THREE HUNDRED FORTY-EIGHT of Presidential recovery.
What happens if we relook at predictions from 100 years ago?
Futurists usually aren’t judged on the accuracy of their predictions, and people rarely revisit the predictions many years later. Futurists can be wrong and unaccountable; just like meteorologists…
The exception might be Ray Kurzweil who some have claimed to have a stunning 86% accuracy rate. Other disagree with this claim, citing a significantly lower 7% accuracy. In fact, most well-known futurists seem to have less than a 10% accuracy rate.
I don’t think meteorologists would last very long if they only got the weather right once every two weeks.
Archibald Low’s predictions from 100 years ago seem to have done significantly better. Archibald “Archy” Montgomery Low, born in 1888, was an engineer, physicist, inventor, and prolific author. Low is credited with the first unmanned plane (aka drone), the first electrically-steered rocket, and worked on the first televisions.
Some of the newsworthy men and women who passed away this year – musicians, artists and storytellers who surpassed the ordinary.
Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening– the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.
One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.
No other voice like hers!