Sunday, July 08, 2007

"PING! PING! PING!" or iRant

"I googled you last night. You're not on the internets?"

I blinked, knowing already that this conversation was bound to be transcribed on a blog. Probably my blog. Maybe both our blogs? Oh, the irony.

"Um, I have a blog...?" I couldn't hide my own disdain of having to admit to such a thing.

"No, I found that..." He didn't have to finish. I knew what he meant.

"I know. I'm not on MySpace."


"I know. I'm wrong."

I am not on MySpace and thus, I do not exist.

Long ago, I decided I wasn't into online stalking and so refused to join the online network that has launched a million friends and a thousand careers.

In trying to pitch scripts and book shows, I find that people actually prefer to do business through MySpace.

And I stubbornly refuse to join. Good call.

I hate that this is what has become of our culture. That this is what has become of me. Post-modernism has exploded into virtual meta-modernism. What was once normal, human social interaction now exists as a springboard for creating online content which then informs our real-world conversations which is then re-created and recycled once again online...

All Your Base Are Belong To Us.

Which sort of brings me to iPhones. I don't want to get all Ray Bradbury, but really? Why do I need to be able to listen to music and watch movies and YouTube clips of dancing cats on a tiny screen on a gadget that I also use to call my friends and check my e-mail?

Do I really need to be entertained AT ALL TIMES? As a culture, are we at the point where we just need constant stimulus? We can't even have conversations any more without simultaneously texting. Do I really NEED a device that does everything, all at once? Do we really need a non-stop barrage of entertainment, everywhere we go?

We're creating an iCulture of isolation under the pretense of keeping everyone connected through technology. And more and more, we rely on our gadgets to do all our work for us.

I came to a horrible realization one night when I accidentally left my apartment without my cell phone: I don't know ANYONE'S number. If something happened to me, I could call my folks (who live in another state)...and my own phone. That's it. I don't even know my best friend's number. I would be unable to reach ANYONE without my own phone, the keeper of all my contacts.


We're at the point where our TVs can think and our cars can park themselves!

This is how the machines take over.

I dunno. I realize I'm rambling like some kind of curmudgeonly paranoid lunatic living in a Montana shack. But sometimes, I want to be off the grid. Sometimes, I like being off the grid.

Put down the iBox. Go outside. Look around. Live in the real world. Just for a little bit.

Sigh. I have to join MySpace, don't I?