Listing the reasons for my lone hatred of mobile phones.
In Space No-one Can Hear Your Mobile Phone!
I may be alone but I will continue my battle against the scourge of modern man/woman until I shuffle off my mortal coil. I refer of course, to that infernal device, the mobile phone. `Why the angst?` I hear you ask.
Well, first there is the destruction of art! If somebody goes into the Guggenheim and slashes a masterpiece with a Stanley knife they are rightly treated as a criminal, deranged or both simultaneously and the outpouring of grief for our loss is huge. If one is suspended in time as the heart-rending opening of a late Beethoven Quartet works its magic when suddenly a mobile blares out, this too is murder of art. This too destroys something that can never be replaced, paints a stain across the good name of creation which cannot be undone. Such people are also criminals and should be treated as such.
Then there is the issue of trust. When I was young my word meant something. If I said I was going to be in a certain place for a certain reason I meant it and so did my friends and acquaintances. If a promise was broken it was understood that there was a reason and mutual understanding served to strengthen the bonds between us. This no longer exists. Arrangements and promises are now as cheap and shoddy as the plastic animated characters adorning the average mobile.
Then there is the question of exploitation. It didn’t take long for companies to figure out that if they had their employees carrying mobiles not only could they three times as much telephone traffic simultaneously but also they could be kept tabs on and easily shunted from destination to destination if it is called for. Much of the stress of modern work comes from this and there is a concomitant break down of respect between the employees on the front line and the public they interface with. We have been conditioned to expect instant service and as a result the poor worker has become even more dehumanized.
Then there is the question of becoming dumb. It is all about noise. Unending, unthinking mindless chatter because we cannot live with ourselves in peace and solitude, communing with nature or the gods for even a single moment. That would be unnatural after all!
Then there is the question of sex. Hah! I confess! I cannot find love or sex these days while presupposing the two should go together. Sure I date women. That is to say, I invite them out to dinner. The most callow and ignorant place their mobile on the table next to that array of forks one never knows when to use. Others interrupt moments of profound communication and caring by noting the buzz in their bag and grimacing apologetically as they take that call! Sorry my dear, I didn’t invite your friend to dinner so I am not going to pay for yours. The end.
There is more and more my friends but enough is enough. Perhaps I am alone, rent in mind and body by this self-destructive tool we feel is so central to human existence. But, until Bhudda uses one I shall stand up and fight because I love you all too dearly.