I am a big fan of technology.
I spend hours upon hours of each day on the computer. I hook
up my navigational system when it comes time for a trip. I consider my DVR a
lifesaving device. And I am quite seriously counting the days until I get my
hoverboard, flying car, and robot.
All this being said, I don’t own a smart phone. A fact that
occasionally frustrates the Roomie (particularly those times when I ask her
to find out the hours of every bookstore in the area).
It’s not that I don’t like the idea of such a tool or that
its many merits are lost me.
No, it actually has to do with Esmeralda, which is the name
I gave my navigational system. (A fact that drives my sister a little batty,
particularly when I refer to the nav system as “her” or “she.” And then her comments hurt Esmeralda's feelings....really, it's just a mess.)
Anyway, Esmeralda is a gem. She gets me where I’m going, even if she’s sometimes a little slow in her initial response. If I get lost, she gets me back on track.
Anyway, Esmeralda is a gem. She gets me where I’m going, even if she’s sometimes a little slow in her initial response. If I get lost, she gets me back on track.
It’s wonderful and, as a result of this awesomeness, I’m
pretty sure I couldn’t find my way out of a paper bag without her.
Fine, she’s not necessary for the home-to-work drive, but
if I’m going further than that, she’s with me. It doesn’t matter if I’ve made
the drive a thousand times before. She’s a security blanket. Without her, I’d
be driving in circles weeping and gnashing my teeth.
This dependence can’t be healthy. But every time I try to
break it off with her, I hear that siren’s song. And I think, You know, I should just put her up for the
time. That way if someone asks I can give them a more definite ETA.
It’s a vicious cycle. And one I’m not looking to cultivate
with any of the other machines. When I consider the amount of time I spend with
my normal, run-of-the-mill, might-as-well-be-Zack-Morris’s phone, I know that a
smart phone will become so much a part of my day to day life that people are
going to have to start referring to me as a cyborg.
And I’m just not sure how I feel about that.
On one hand, when the machines do finally rise up against
us, it is possible that they will react in a kinder fashion to cyborgs than to
your run-of-the-mill human. However, it seems just as likely, if not more so, that
the phone will turn against me in retribution for how far into the ground I
will most definitely run it.
It just seems safer to limit my reliance on technology and
take that time saved to practice zombie fighting techniques. You know, just in
case they rise before the machines do.
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