OK, It's Getting Bad

Every morning. Every night. Every time I'm on the road. People having to use their horns to alert the person at the front of the line at the light that it's time to get their head out of their lap and drive. People drifting into my lane. I pass them and they make no attempt to disguise the fact that they are actively engaged with their phone on the steering wheel. Truckers even, on narrow roads with construction all around, drifting left and right.

It's an epidemic. Don't know what's going to come of it, but it's only getting worse.

Zombie Generation

(Click for the larger.)

Unhappy Hipsters of Yesteryear

Bobby tried to summon the demons of his nightmares from the fire, asking that they curse his family.

I love the blog Unhappy Hipsters for the great captions, but I will confess I am a huge fan of most of the architecture they mock daily. And Paleo Future is another great blog I've only recently come across, where I found this picture (click for large) from the Sunday comics section of an old Chicago Tribune. The copy describes a future in which we will record TV shows. And TVs that will produce images in three dimensions. Dad is watching just such a show. Mom is reclined on a chair with headphones on, lost in some crazy future-jazz. Little Sally is pulling a book off the Electronic Home Library shelf, the contents of which are being projected onto the family's ceiling. Not a bad set of predictions from 1959.

And the other thing this comic got right was the isolation such technology would bring about. Everyone walks around today with their earbuds in, not speaking, lost in their own entertainment. Texting at the dinner table, connected at all times.

Little Bobby is the unhappy hipster in the above scene, gazing into the fire, remembering how it used to be when they did stuff together as a family, nostalgic for the life he's never known, one not overrun with gadgets and noise.

I'm seeing a lot of articles lately about the dangers of being connected full-time. The authors suggest such remedies as "unplugging" for a weekend. Or they create a "day of fasting" from Facebook, as one pastor recommended recently in a transparent effort to create more press for his thriving Megachurch, the better to be seen by "the world" as a hip, relevant church. 

The problem gets talked about plenty, that of the over-connected society, but the solutions offered all seem gimmicky and temporary to me. What good is a day away from the technology if you're just jumping back in on Monday again fully connected, and likely more so than usual since you missed out on so much over the weekend? That's like taking a day off from binge-drinking. So I guess it's time for me to once again "unveil" a program I created about eight years ago. My program suggests you set aside a space where "connecting" is simply not tolerated. I call it the MediaFreeZone™.

It's a very simple program and will only require you to be a little disciplined to make it work. The details are here. Granted, the MediaFreeZone™ may end up being a room in your house no one wants to ever be in, but I think it's worth a shot.

I Don't Do Foursquare

Matt McDermott has a nice piece today about Foursquare. I suppose the tool has plenty of purposes, but I don't feel the need.

Mario was many years Sophia's senior, but if anything, that age difference was a mark of his virility that caused him nearly to strut, as well as his old knees were capable of strutting, anyhow. There was something else hanging over him, something clouding their relationship, and until that evening he'd yet to put his bony, old finger on it.

He would finish his meal and call her a cab, giving her the same curt instructions he had delivered, it seemed to him, to far too many of the city's beautiful young women, "Don't call me. Don't drive by my house." 

He had learned to tolerate the sending and receiving of texts at the table. He had forgiven many times the phone conversations that interrupted their moments together. But she was now the Mayor of Salvatore's Ristorante on Foursquare, and he knew it was time to end the affair.  

What? We're Just Socializing

I have a strong dislike for texting, emailing or web surfing at a table, not that I haven't been guilty myself of uploading a picture of a decadent meal, but I will always alert my table mates that I am about to. There's something very anti-social about sitting across from someone and showing yourself to be too busy to give them your full attention. Nonetheless, I see this scene played out fairly often lately.

Bigger

Original Cézanne painting from here.

My Bananas Are Laughing at Me

Fruitvertising is now speaking the text, directing me to this site, "comically" (and perhaps bawdily) named "Eat a Chiquita," where, judging by the random things strewn on the school desk, latchkey stoner children can "interact with the brand" while learning about their bananas.


Cute. I suppose.

Previously in Text Speak:
Bossman Speaking The Text Again

Bossman Speaking The Text Again

...and that's never pretty.

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