It’s time to pull the plug.
I’m not sure we have a healthy relationship. It seems like we’re always together. I need some breathing room. I don’t get to bask in sunshine anywhere near the amount that I want to. I’ve also been missing out on the shade.
I’m not sure we’ve got a healthy relationship. It seems like every time I want to do some yard-work, or clean the dishes, or read a book, I’ve got something more important to do with you.
And I like that you spoil me—you give me anything I want as soon as I want it—but ever since instant gratification, I’ve lost my ability to be patient. I’m sorry, but between lightning-fast information, access to limitless music and videos, and my ability to nuke a hot pocket in under 2 minutes, I just don’t feel like waiting for much of anything anymore. Seriously, I have to force myself to cook anything that takes 20 minutes, like rice. This just isn’t working out.
I think I need some space. You might be upset, but can you really blame me? It seems like every time I sit down to do something quiet, nice, or intelligent, the person I’m with has some kind of phone alert that they need to respond to. It usually happens when I’m about to say something awesome. The other person always tells me that they’re listening, and I always have to repeat myself. Sometimes I even forget the awesome thing that I was going to say. And, besides, you can’t reconstruct a moment. They come and go on their own.
Technology, what it comes down to is that you’re interfering with my life. I never invited you in this far, but somehow, you’re here.
It’s time to back up. I’m sorry.
Tag Archives: technology
I think we need to break up. This just isn’t working out.
I delivered food to an office building today. I was in an elevator, going to the ninth of fourteen floors. The elevator was crowded, and people seemed to keep cramming in. I figured it was lunch time: everyone was carrying their lunch.
They were all joking around with each other and laughing. The elevator stopped at the eighth floor. Someone amidst the rapid conversation wanted to know who was getting off on that floor. The person volunteered themselves. Then, someone else wanted to know who was getting off at the ninth floor, and one lady volunteered that it was the food.
Surprisingly, I didn’t get too angry. However, I was insulted. At first I wanted to tell her that I was an actual person. The more I thought about it, the more I just wanted to tell her that what she’d said was rude. But, by that time, I was already driving to my next delivery.
I think that technology makes it easy to disregard others. I don’t think that technology is the only thing that can do that—not by a longshot. But it really helps in the process.
To me, “a New York State of Mind” is a euphemism for being a bitch.
I don’t understand most people, and most people, I’m sure, do not understand me. This train of thought leads into a mistrust of technology, a subject I’ll post about in the coming days.
Windows 8 seems to be a steaming pile of baboon dung. Free market’s cool, but I cannot physically operate Windows 8 without feeling like the entire experience is conditioning me to buy stuff I don’t need. Naw, worse. It’s conditioning me to be in a constant position and frame of mind to mindlessly purchase.
The applications are just there. All the time. But I don’t want to rely on apps–***********8*I need more, always I need more, because my life isn’t fulfilling but applications shall fulfill me, and I feel comforted in knowing that I have access to applications on all devices that I own********8***–The new format really seems to be designed to force me into buy-mode.
But what really bothers me is that diabolical fucking start menu. This Lucifer hell-spawn distraction from the abyss is just completely intent on drawing me in to clicking on things that I don’t want to devote any time to. But now I have to, because if I want to get to the internet I have to look at all the other shit there, and get good at ignoring things–all those little squares I don’t want to see, like video games or movies. Are people really unintelligent, to the point where they need colored squares with I.Q.-lower-than-70 icons printed on them?
What is the reason for the corporate attitude that I haven’t got a brain? Or, if I’ve got one, that I should’t use it? The concept of icons is to use recognition as an immediate response, so I don’t have to think–“oh, a video game controller–if I click that, I get to play.” Or: “Oh, a musical note.”
I already have a hard enough time surviving in this world of constant streaming live information overload. But I’m afraid it’s only going to become more difficult in the future.