Sunday, September 25, 2011

A Return to Simplicity

The assignment was to write a Ticket (our fancy word for an essay) on the topic of "The Return." It's not due yet, but here's what I'm up to so far. 

         In a modern world, Twitter competes with the birds for the highest number of tweets. In a modern world, phones vibrate, gyrate and light up, shocking us into a realm of constant communication. We can hold the world at our fingertips, touch-screen tablets that can solve your problems for you. Or create new ones.
         We’re burdened by these inventions, as freeing and helpful as they are. We don’t need to carry dictionaries, maps, address books or even pens with us, because we can store all of our necessary information right in our Personal Digital Assistants, or PDAs. But what about the other meaning of PDA, Personal Displays of Affection? Do we giving all of our attention and affection to tiny, pixilated devices? I would argue that we most certainly do. And if we don’t give this issue the attention it deserves, we will remain slaves to our silver slices of technology.  
         With all of the 3G and 4G waves invisibly surrounding our bodies, the internet age capitalizes on our mental power (and thumb power). As a society, we are growing more connected to the idea of the latest iPhone and less connected to one another. We comment on photos instantly, but do we really remember every message we send?
         The answer is no. The accessibility of communication has rendered the entire point of reaching out to an old friend useless. It’s second nature to pick up the phone and text back. It requires such little effort, that we should question how much a response really means, in the big scheme of things. Do people write back because they want to, or because it’s just so easy? Are easy things always insignificant? Is this easy thing, communication?

1 comment:

  1. Nicely put.

    On your "PDA" comparison: One day, I was playing with my sons in our yard, and took a picture of one. I liked it, and decided to post it to Twitter. As I did so, the son (Mr F) came over and pushed my hand away impatiently, making me put away the phone -- and then I realized that I was so intent on sharing how I was playing with him, that I was no longer playing with him.


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