Narcissus' Echo

Thoughts, tears, rants, ruminations, hopes, fears, love(s), and prayers of just another being passing through this wracked sphere...

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A round peg in a world of square holes...

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Silence is golden. STFU.



-Note: "You" = hypothetical "you."-


Miss E.'s recent entry on her blog (always a refreshing read) directed me to The Purdue Diaries. Perusing the write up of a train wreck of a relationship, the follow paragraph struck a chord with me:


Z had a major exam to study for and was trying his best to do that. D was unable to see past that and wait just one more day to pick a fight with him, constantly harassing and repeatedly calling his cell phone leading him to seek refuge with good friends who managed to keep her away from him long enough for him to concentrate.


Not taking any sides here (after all, I do not know either Z or D), but that has been one of the primary reasons why I adamantly refuse to leash myself to a cell phone. I deeply treasure my privacy. I do not want to be disturbed, ever. I enjoy being uncontactable. If a plane flies into the building you work in, or if a bomb blows up the carriage of the train you are traveling in, or a bar you are drinking in, trust me, I will read about it in the papers the next day. That's a promise. And I will dress up--i.e. wear a suit--to your funeral and leave flowers by your grave. I do not require a blow-by-blow, first-hand account from you. No offence, but trust me, you are not that important.

To anyone following my blog for any appreciable length of time, my deep-seated disdain for cell phones is old news, the paragraph from The Purdue Diaries though, reminded me of an unpleasant conversation with a stranger at a campus event recently:


SHE: What's your cell [number], by the way?

ME: I don't have a cell.

SHE: WHAT? You don't have a cell?

ME: Yes, I don't have a cell phone.

SHE: WHY?

ME: I don't see the need to.

SHE: What about keeping in touch with your friends?

ME: I have a land line and an email address and IM, ICQ.

SHE: What if you are not home?

ME: Well, then they leave a message.

SHE: THAT'S RIDICULOUS! What if you are outside and need help in an emergency?

ME: I don't. I make it a point to be self-sufficient.

SHE: OK... What if YOUR FRIENDS need YOUR HELP in an emergency?

ME (beginning to get pissed off): My name is "Ben," not "911 Emergency." I possess neither red cloak nor red briefs, nor phone booth to duck into to change and take to the skies to save the lives of countless innocents. If they can wait until I get there, then that is not an emergency.

SHE: Look, I was just asking. Why are you being such an asshole?

ME: Because, Trish... I don't have a cell phone. [Spots a professor I want to talk to]. And, if I had one, I would be an infinitely bigger--and louder--one. You should really consider a career with Verizon. It's been such a pleasure meeting you. Take care. [Ducks away].


I guess I've made an enemy.

I never understood the "need" to be constantly connected. I see people on their cell phones yakking, bitching, moaning, whining all the time. A constant blabber of nonsense and drivel. Who goddamn cares about what you ate for lunch; how many fields of spinach you got stuck between your teeth; which coworker farted in the elevator; if your boss wore white after Labor Day?

Read this: NO ONE CARES.

The fact of the matter is: your life is not that exciting. A second from now, what you have just blabbered into the cell phone won't matter. It didn't matter then. It won't matter now. It won't matter ever. You are not Rob Hall, dying alone in a crevasse below the summit of Mount Everest, and saying goodbye to his wife, Jan Arnold, with his last breath (and even then, he was using a radio ). You are just a pretentious, loud, little fuck strutting about a city street / train / cafe / park and annoying the living shit out of other people with your mindless prater. Get over yourself. Shut the fuck up.

I hope you get run over by a bus crossing the road with that goddamn cell phone glued to your ear, or T-boned by an 18-wheeler whilst driving your car and yakking away on your cell phone. May your cell phone work then, so that you would be able to make your first truly important call.




Forget about marching for world peace, just shut that fucking cell phone off.


Related articles and posts:

3 Healthy Cell Phone Tips

Cell Phones Swamping 911 System

Need I say I told you so?

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