Older, but no wiser
Andy Borrows' musings on life and all its confusion, contradictions, richness and opportunities
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
i-thingummy (yawn…)
For the record, and to balance the barely-suppressed squeaks of thrilled excitement echoing around the blogosphere at the moment…
There’s a strong streak of Luddism running through me; I do not give an airborne instance of fornication what new gadgetry has come out of the fruit factory. I just hope Mr Jobs has made them sufficiently waterproof – otherwise he’s going to get a lot of returns; the first batch to be shipped are going to be subject to some serious drooling.
Unlike countless other bloggers, I neither need nor want the latest i-thingummy. I already have very natty little device I carry around with me; it’s called a Mobile Phone. It may be old (4 years, I think) and a bit battered, but it does everything I ask of it. I can talk to people with it; I can do this really cool thing called text messaging with it; it’s small enough and light enough that I don’t notice it in my pocket; its been dropped countless times – even onto a concrete floor – with no more harm than the odd scratch. I’ve survived quite happily thus far, thank you, without a PDA; it’s bad enough being managed by a computer during the working day; why would I want to run my entire life at the beck and call of a piece of techno-gimmickry?
Now, pass me a couple of sticks… I want to make a fire.
There’s a strong streak of Luddism running through me; I do not give an airborne instance of fornication what new gadgetry has come out of the fruit factory. I just hope Mr Jobs has made them sufficiently waterproof – otherwise he’s going to get a lot of returns; the first batch to be shipped are going to be subject to some serious drooling.
Unlike countless other bloggers, I neither need nor want the latest i-thingummy. I already have very natty little device I carry around with me; it’s called a Mobile Phone. It may be old (4 years, I think) and a bit battered, but it does everything I ask of it. I can talk to people with it; I can do this really cool thing called text messaging with it; it’s small enough and light enough that I don’t notice it in my pocket; its been dropped countless times – even onto a concrete floor – with no more harm than the odd scratch. I’ve survived quite happily thus far, thank you, without a PDA; it’s bad enough being managed by a computer during the working day; why would I want to run my entire life at the beck and call of a piece of techno-gimmickry?
Now, pass me a couple of sticks… I want to make a fire.
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