Connectivity, Reading/Writing, and the Cyber Age :: Technology Technological Essays

Connectivity, Reading/Writing, and the Cyber Age I own a cell phone. And a desktop computer. And I carry this old laptop around to all the coffee shops and bars in whose noise I try to drown out the mean little voices of writerly anxiety so I can just get my fucking homework done. At work I use a touch screen ordering system to get my drinks from the bar and artichoke dip from the kitchen. I check my horoscope online (as well as those of the men I’m interested in—blushing with shameJ,) stay in touch with friends via email, and use my college’s online services to register for classes. I do a great deal of my research for class via the electronic databases Eastern Michigan maintains, I have a blog, I’ve tried to get my poetry published at online literary magazines. With the help of a very patient friend, I even filed my federal taxes online this year. The internet and wireless technology make my life easier to move through quickly. I am grateful. But somewhat ashamed. In the same way that I feel guilty every time I drive the old pollution-mobile a mile and a half to work, using all this high-speed information technology feels like being seduced away from my principles by the lure of ease. I believe in slowness. I love speed. It’s a difficulty. I am not the only person struggling with the conflict between the speed modern life demands and that at which actual life happens. Women’s magazines are full of tips on organizing the kitchen, the carpool, the craft supplies, so that more time can be found for the important things in life—hanging out with the kids, spending time with parents, maybe even having sex with partners. Advertising companies pitch scads of products as time-savers, from meals-in-a-bag to blocks of cleanser that clean the toilet with every flush. All my friends complain about not having enough time to get everything done. My girlfriend who is working on her PHD and Master’s degrees at the same time doesn’t have enough time to see her lover and spend time with her mother in the nursing home. My other dear girlfriend with two [fabulous] kids, a husband [that’s out of this world,] a house, two cars, and two jobs doesn’t have enough time for anything. Most of my men friends don’t have enough time to work their jobs, take care of their bodies, support their ladyfriends in whatever way and still know what they’re feeling from moment to moment.