So, yet another of my digital cameras has unfurled it’s zoom lens for the last time. That’s number four, if anyone’s keeping track.
I think the cameras are competing with the cell phones. It’s getting to be an all-out brawl.
A few years back I started to think that technology was conspiring against me, a horrid revolt led by the evil czar Lawn Mower, reaching as far as Television Remote and Electric Toothbrush.
Put any of them in my dainty little clutches and they will cease to function nearly instantly.
I thought that getting away from home base, ducking off Lawn Mower’s radar for a bit, would give me a few minutes of bliss. Nope.
Even in Georgia he found me. His minions are everywhere. He has recruited my standard, necessary, personal belongings: Cell Phone is his voice; Camera his eyes.
They crap out on me leaving me desperately rummaging through the annals for an alternative. They are out to make me bow town to their grand master overlord, the invisible, ever-present force that surrounds us all.
I’ve deluded myself, shrugging off Electric Can Opener and Navigation System as convenience items, not representatives of the gross demigod I’ve been unintentionally thumbing my nose at.
Lawn Mower isn’t leading a revolt, it’s beating me into submission: I will worship—not him, not Navigation System—but the chips and bits and bytes and binary omnipresent force that pulses through them. They’re going to win. I will be Technology’s humble servant or I will continue to suffer the flaccid life of one who has not embraced the power.
All this time I was ignorant. I conjured curses, tossing the empty shells of Cameras and Phones into drawers and blaming faulty Technology.
Technology isn’t at fault: I am.
I kneel at your feet, Great and Powerful Technology.
Keep me from blackouts and shutdowns, error messages and shoddy pop-up windows.
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