(Prior posting from my old webspace)

Well, in the spirit of keeping my brain insane, and reminding the folks that periodically read my drivel, I decided to pick a subject at random, and rant.

On today’s grill is the lovely and totally practical cellphone.

I remember in the nineties when cellphones were just ever so slightly obnoxious. The only persons that possessed them were self important businesspersons, pimps and whores. They were rather large, did one thing, and had a very limited range. They’d also make your brain rot, literally, from cancer (so said the A.M.A), cause people to want to pummel you in theaters and meetings when they went off, followed by the owner going off (his good manners and love of oxygen when someone shoved said cell down their throats in protest), as well as the whole image that it projected. Goodly people simply didn’t Cell.

Fast forward one decade. Pretty much the entire western world is cellular. We simply cannot fathom life without our “smartphones”.

That’s an interesting name for the current line of electronic crack being sold by Nokia, Apple, Blackberry, Sony Ericsson, and the list goes on and on.

Smartphones.

Well, let’s see. They can play your favorite tune. They can take surreptitious pictures of undressed and totally clueless people in change rooms. They can immortalize on video your three year old gleefully ingesting the oh so wholly appetizing contents of his crust rimmed nostrils for the express purpose of sending to Nana’s cell at the mere cost of $15.00 for Airtime and Bandwidth usage.

These brain trusts we call smartphones  can now email, text, surf, turf, wash your windows, stimulate unmentionable areas if left on vibrate in the wrong part of your wardrobe, and in it’s strange unfathomable way, STILL get you connected with whomever you choose to be connected to.

Well, sounds pretty smart. So what’s my beef?

Ever see someone with a Blackberry? Or for that matter, an IPhone?  The former has been called “Crackberry” by some, and with very very good reason. Damned thing is literally a FIX for the user. Without their texting dose, you soon watch beads of sweat forming across the brow of a once calm and collected person. Pretty soon, the D.T’s begin, and you have panic, convulsions, hysteria, blackouts, followed by looting, rapes and murders.

“There there.. I found Daddy’s widdle fix…go text work now.. I’m sure you’ll still be promoted”.  ‘Nuff said.

Or.. the moron running around with his bluetooth on. Now…in a vehicle, I can clearly see the benefits of having a bluetooth headset. It keeps both hands free to drive, and keeps you in the know. Perfect for Ma, when she wants to rip her spawn a new anus for getting in at six thirty in the morning on a school day. She can truly multitask as she berates, puts on lipstick and surges through traffic towards her place of employment, which she now REALLY needs ‘cos the family cellphone plan pretty much eats her wallet’s contents, as well as leaving her with the tattered remnants of her self respect as she has to explain to her employers why she was late that morning.

Her harried explanation: She was being extracted from her car with careful assistance from the “Jaws Of Life”, because being so distracted with makeup and the make out king that is her son, she failed to see the pretty red light, instead choosing to focus on her pretty red mouth, and reddening temper being transmitted through her bluetooth.

But, this is nowhere near as fun as the driver that insists on talking directly into the cell while driving.

Oh, Smartphones.. I worship them so. They truly do elevate the level of intelligence. I mean, how brilliant it is to see someone coasting down the road at say, sixty clicks, with a cellphone held with one hand to an ear, or better yet, TEXTING while driving, and the other hand on the steering wheel. It’s so smart of them to be oh so focused while driving this bullet on wheels. And I’m sure the blood soaked hair and teeth will eventually come out of the grill from the person now doubling as a hood ornament.

Smart? E.T. PHONE HOME!!!

But the best I save for last. I kid you not.

Bluetooth, our faithful old wireless connection proudly presents.. INSTANT SCHITZO.

How many of us have felt an urge to cross the street… quickly, when this is approaching.

A man, gesticulating frantically, talking in uneven rhythms to himself.. having what seems to be a heated discussion with one of Sybil’s leftover voices. You can literally feel your spine melt as they approach, you find yourself frantically attempting to pull the house keys out of your pocket, just in case you need to show him how much you “got” should he attack, when he turns his head, and VOILA! Bluetooth. It’s not Prozac he needs.. but rather, a clue, and perhaps a lesson in public decorum.

So.. to the SmartPhone Generation, I tip my clamshell Samsung to you. I think I’d rather eat the entrails out of a rotting corpse than to ever Get Smart a la this new Millennium style. I’d rather Maxwell Smart’s version of a cell. Your foot is that much closer to your mouth, and this twisted intellect we’re now all seem to possess could maybe “miss you by that much!”

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