Showing posts with label smartphones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label smartphones. Show all posts

Friday, July 28, 2023

The Secret of Life (Updated)

Image by elizabethaferry from Pixabay

This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.  

Trigger Warning: This column rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in debilitating psychological trauma.


Glossary 

Featuring Dana: Hallucination, guest star, and charming literary device  

"Show business is just like high school, except you get paid." -Martin Mull


Dear Stickies and Gentlereaders,

So-called real life, at least in the countries that used to be proud to be identified as products of Western Civilization, is just high school with money (and smartphones), that's all you really need to know.

In fact, modern technology + modern prosperity = perpetual high school (mt + mp = phs).

{But some of the countries in the Eastern Hemisphere and the Global South are also...}  

Yes indeed, but the majority of them are products of radically different cultural traditions than ours which they aren't abandoning as rapidly and enthusiastically as we are. 

{Wait-wait-wait, you've revealed the secret of life, as alleged by you at least, several times over the last hundred years or so, old man. What gives?} 

I haven't written about the subject since my four-month sabbatical last year at a secret Taoist monastery in the Wudang mountains. Like its predecessors, this missive serves as an update to previous versions. 

If technology keeps advancing arm in arm with global prosperity, eventually the entire planet will consist of H. sapiens with psyches equivalent to that of an average American high school student (and many of their elders).

The good news is that with a bit of luck, this will cancel out the ChiCom's effort to destroy Western Civilization via their not-so-secret weapon, TikTok. By the way, I define ChiComs as the current emperor and his minions, not his serfs and slaves.     

{But there's no shortage of countries mired in poverty and primitive technology.}

Sure. But if you adopt a birds-eye view you'll discover that technology and prosperity are spreading at unprecedented rates. At least for now. 

{You're gonna' have to supply links to the data if you want me, the Stickies, or your gentlereaders for that matter, to believe that.}

Well, I'm not going to... but I would if I thought it worth the effort. 

Prosperity has made it possible for more people to access technology. Technology has enabled more people to access the worldwide web of all knowledge. 

But unfortunately, the web, particularly social media — as well as traditional media like TV, print, and radio — is chock-a-block with contradictory knowledge that constitutes the ultimate, international version of a classic debate format familiar to everyone:

Uh-huh! Nuh-uh!

{You've mentioned this uh-huh, nuh-uh thing before too. In fact...} 

I know, but it just keeps getting better and worse. Modern technology has made it possible for everyone to become a publisher, a broad/narrowcaster, a producer/director, a musician/record label, etc. Any moron can claim to be a columnist. Power to the people!  

But nowadays, all sides of any given argument are able to supply links to all sorts of websites and data top-heavy with links to all sorts of other websites and data top-heavy with links... ad infinitum. 

Flame-fanning by traditional media outlets more motivated by financial survival than the search for truth, makes it hard to tell genuine thoughtful, carefully reasoned disagreement from mere partisan infotainment, ideology, gossip, and propaganda.

{Well, that's a spiffy paragraph, but what's it got to do with your notion that real life is high school with money?}


It's an October morning in 1968 and a bunch of bleary-eyed teenagers are seated at a high school cafeteria table waiting for the homeroom bell. Being 1968, there was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air (HT: B. Dylan).

A vocal minority of Boomers a few years previously, had begun a cultural trend that has since gotten out of hand: all politics all the time. An argument has broken out at the table and an occasional, "It's a fact! You can look it up!" can be heard.  

{I still don't see...}

Well, now you can look it up, but most Uh-huhs! can be easily refuted by a Nun-uh!

Bottom line: All politics, all the time is spreading around the world at light speed. Filtered through social media and exploited by the outrage industrial complex, the result is a virtual version of an endless American high school civics class debate (or a cafeteria kerfuffle).

{Do they still teach civics in high school?}

Later that same day our typical American high school Boomers are eating lunch at their self-segregated cafeteria tables. At the cool girl's tables, top-heavy with salads, cans of diet soda pop, and little else, they're speculating about Debbie. Turns out her family didn't move. Debbie's been moved, to the Saint Mary McGilliddy home for mothers and babes.

At the jock tables, they're congratulating, Bob, a wrestler, as it turns out he won't be dropping out of school and getting married after all. Bob and several of the members of the wrestling team aren't eating, an important match is pending and they need to "make weight." 

When lunch is over a flurry of notes are exchanged that will be delivered by an ad hoc postal system once classes resume.
 

It's an October afternoon in 2022, and at a typical American high school Zoomers are eating lunch at their self-segregated tables. At the cool girl's tables, salads and bottled water are being consumed with one hand, information consumed and disseminated with the other. 

At the jock's tables, members of the wrestling team are working their smartphones with both hands. 

An endless stream of pics, selfies, videos, gossip, trolling, canceling, cyberbullying, tweets, and etcetereets is being generated.

A few girls are pregnant, but nowadays the whole world is becoming a small town wherein everyone can gossip and fret about every-thing that every-one is up to, and can do so anonymously.  


Marshall McCluhann achieved his 15 minutes of fame (H.T. Andy Warhol, fellow Yinzer) when he posited that "the medium is the message." I think that although the mediums keep changing, and do have an impact on the messages, the messages, like human nature, remain fundamentally the same  

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day


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Friday, January 15, 2021

Can You Hear Me Now?

A random randomnesses column

                                      Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

This is: A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they become grups or I'm deleted.

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — A Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Viewing with a tablet or a monitor is highly recommended for maximum enjoyment.

Please Note: If ya click on an Amazon ad, thus opening a portal to Amazon, and buy anything, Lord Jeffrey will toss a few pence in my direction and you won't have to feel guilty about enjoying my work  well, hopefully  for free. Win/Win.  

About 


Glossary 


Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlerreader

"In Hollywood a marriage is a success if it outlasts milk." -Rita Rudner


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

Since delaying the Stickies access to smart(?)phones any longer was becoming impractical, and,

Since my hardworking daughter needs a cutting edge smartphone for her job, and, 

Since my family wanted their beloved Pasty Patriarch to start carrying a smart enough phone since crises, major and minor, randomly occurring to geezers of a certain age are not unheard of, well...

My daughter went to a local Verizon outlet a few years back and came home with a bunch of phones.

A few years go by and Verizon's been the beneficiary of a not inconsiderable chunk of our change. A few months ago my daughter revisited the same outlet, dealt with the same clerk, a.k.a. the kid, and revamped our personal communications system. A reduction in monthly outgo was achieved and we were (momentarily) delighted.

However, she made the mistake of arranging for the automatic monthly payment to be deducted directly from my checking account for logistical reasons. Our finances are mingled and it was the logical thing to do at the time. 

[Mistake?]

HOOGE mistake, Dana. Deep breath... 

The store closes temporarily due to plague problems, the kid moves on, and since the phones are in my daughter's name they won't/can't take money out of my checking account even though the kid said they would, their website says they are, my bank says they're not, and endless hours are spent on the phone to their support people who say they will, but they don't, and eventually say they can't, but, we owe them all sorts of penalty fees and the new deal is canceled, so we also owe them the difference between the old price and the new one and going forward we have to pay the old price, and...

[You're making this up, right? This is one of your goofy "literary devices".]
 
Nope. But suffice it to say that we're now happy T-mobile customers, saving a small fortune on our phone bill, and Verizon can kiss my SIM card.

I'll leave my gentlereaders to draw their own conclusions. 



"The problem isn’t Trump, or Joe Biden, or Kamala Harris, or any other politician: It is the popular response to the gut-wrenching realization that America is hollowed out, that it is living on borrowed money (which is to say borrowed time)..." 

"Americans are frightened for their future, with good reason. They see enormous rewards accrue to a handful of tech companies, and stagnation and decay in large parts of the rest of the country. Donald Trump gave them a frisson of hope, and the Establishment reaction against Trump confirms the popular suspicion that a malevolent global elite has seized control of their country. Trump shamefully exploited this suspicion to direct a popular storm against the Congress." (My emphasis.)

The two quotes above are from a column written by a gentleperson you may, but likely haven't heard of, named David P. Goldman. Mr. Goldman, a.k.a. Spengler, wrote this particular column for PJ Media, an online conglomeration of right-wing takes on politics and news. Mr. Goldman's work, unlike your humble correspondents, is published by all sorts of people.  

Mr. Goldman is a polymath who has had success in multiple jobs. Wikipedia describes him as, "...an American economist, music critic, and author, best known for his series of online essays in the Asia Times under the pseudonym Spengler.

Mr. G., like me, is not a Never Trumper and has voiced support for some of the Donald's efforts, but is hardly a fanboy.  

Mr. G., unlike me, can use words like frisson with a straight face being slightly more intelligent, sophisticated, and cosmopolitan than I am. 

[Slightly? You thought frisson meant sliver, as in a sliver of hope. It means...]   

Yeah, yeah. I now know it means a brief moment of emotional excitement, at least according to Merriam-Webster.

[And everyone else. Why are you extensively quoting from a David P. Goldman column anyway?] 

Because if one ignores the elephant in the room one will, inevitably, wind up shoveling elephant excrement. 

Mr. Goldman's thoughts about the events of 1/6/20 are the same as mine. Since I'm sick of the Donald, the "Resistance," and the endless, often self-serving and deliberately inflammatory coverage of the Purple Press I've borrowed a cup of words to avoid spending any more energy than absolutely necessary on this subject just now. I hope he doesn't mind. 



Ever feel like you're the last person on Earth who doesn't give a damn what a given Hollywood celebrity thinks about a given issue or politician? Considering what a mess so many of them seem to make of their lives (multiple marriages and drug/alcohol abuse come immediately to mind) why does anyone care?

Why are people that wear their virtue on their sleeves, decry "toxic masculinity" and declare their allegiance to the Me Too movement but are perfectly willing to get naked for softcore porn scenes in movies taken seriously?

[Porn!?! You unsophisticated philistine, the woke ones only participate in pseudo sex if it's an essential element of a realistic plot.]

So in the real world, seeing other people having sex is no more unusual than say, um, sharing a meal with them? 

[You just don't understand.]

You're right.

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day


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Saturday, October 6, 2018

May You Live In Interesting Times (5)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) — the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.


[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars
Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse  
Iggy -- My designated Sticky
Dana -- My designated gentlereader

"This process has inflicted real damage to Judge Kavanaugh and Ms. Ford—enough to make any intelligent citizen wonder if it would ever be worth entering public service." -Allen C. Guelzo 

[Fear not, the quote above has nothing to do with the letter below. It's my way of finding closure and avoiding PTSD.]


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

The way things are going at the moment yinz may be living in the Formerly United States of America by the time you read this. The devolution of the left and the right into tribalism continues apace. The center continues to shrink and the Fringies are running amok.

The purple press continues its descent into partisanship fueled by the profits derived from sensationalism and moral preening.

I've given up on reading one of my formerly favorite comic strips, Non Sequitur.


"A wry sense of humor is a sarcastic one." So sayeth Vocabulary.com. They also declare that "Wry humor and wry wit both describe a sense of humor that is a little twisted from the norm." Exactly.

I've been a fan of Non Sequitur for literally decades. Its creator, Wily Miller, is a talented, imaginative, creative writer, and, he draws better than nine out of ten comic strip artists.

[So, what's your problem, dude? I love that strip, Poppa! Hmmm, we are perhaps, a beet xhelous?]

Dana, Iggy, and Marie-Louise are in the house, or at least in my consciousness. My problem is that I've become acutely aware that Mr. Miller doesn't like the Donald, bankers, the Donald, big business, the Donald, corporate officers, and Trump supporters. Also, men in general, and people that don't share his eating habits, specifically.

I used the word acutely because Mr. Miller goes after the type of people mentioned in the previous paragraph a bit too often for my taste. Even that might not be a deal breaker but for the self-righteous tone with which he colors his favorite targets.

I would expect, no, hope that he would occasionally take aim at everyone mentioned above as well as anyone else that he thinks worthy of satirization. I don't even care about fat jokes, the last politically correct cheap shot -- as long as they're funny -- and I say this as a calorically challenged H. sapien.

[In my defense, mine is a tank-like structure with a pedestal for a neck. The Gummit says I should weigh 185 pounds. Anyone that knows me well knows that at 185 I would look like I was just liberated from a concentration camp.]


Non Sequitur gag, 3/8/16. A fat man in a hospital gown is standing on a scale in a doctors office. The doctor says to the patient, "The body mass index chart says you're obese, but the meat and dairy industries chart says you're a great American."

It's not the patient, or even the patient's DNA that's at fault. It's the evil meat and dairy industries fault for forcing people to buy their products.

[Oh please! What's the big deal?]

It's not, Dana, not as a stand-alone example at least. But variations of it on a regular basis are tedious. Perhaps it's just me but I much prefer that editorial cartoons run on the editorial page.

A comic strip with an obvious, frequently emphasized political agenda is as annoying as athletes who get paid millions of dollars to play a game -- and actors who get paid millions to play pretend -- who feel compelled to prove their social justice bona fides via actions requiring minimal effort and minimal risk.

Spectator sports and other forms of entertainment, not just religion, can serve as mostly harmless opiates for those of the masses who have not turned to actual opiates.

Unfortunately, some folks prefer to smoke, snort or inject Socialism and/or some other utopian analgesic.

Ironically, the later tend to condemn the former.


[I still don't see why...]

Non Sequitur gag, 9/18/18. Two angels are on duty at the entrance to Heaven (St. Peter and an assistant?). There's a plump working stiff in overalls standing in front of a large sign and holding a pen. The sign says Entrance Exam, Nazis Are: (Check One), Bad __ Good __. The man is thoughtfully stroking his chin.

St. Peter is saying "Remember when this was the easiest test in the universe?"

[Oh, I see your point.]

See you in the funny pages!


The More Things Change the More They Stay the Same
Although I recently celebrated my 39th birthday for the 27th time I'm relatively computer literate for a junior geezer. When cell phones became ubiquitous my late wife and I didn't hesitate to give up our landline and switched to a very simple, easy to use phone. Somehow, we got by with one phone and 300 minutes a month.

I now own a smartphone, but I held out far longer than I should've and I'm climbing a learning curve encumbered by fingers and a brain that aren't as limber as they once were.

This got me to thinking about the fact that once upon a time, long before even I was born, that there was a time when people had to learn how to use a new-fangled invention called the telephone.

I went a-googling and found a video, "Training film for users of the new dial telephone" -- on YouTube. How cool is that? Poppa loves you.

Have an OK day.
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©2018 Mark Mehlmauer