De technophilia et technophobia

So, the schizophrenic nature of this blog is perhaps best encompassed in the title:

technophile: I love technology. I love hearing about new advances in technology, and I love making and discussing projections of what advances may come in the future, both near and far. I spend my free time learning new Rich Internet Applications (RIA) and making up projects for myself to try with them. Sometimes it feels closer to an addiction than I would like it; I get such a thrill from coding, or from setting up a new piece of equipment, or from expanding my digital "real estate" (credit to Evelyn), or from downloading new software, or... I could go on, of course. But the point is, I want to just envelop myself in technology sometimes. It makes me so happy, so giddy, it makes me feel on top of the world, it gives me an edge in conversations at the water cooler, it gives me hope for the future and makes me excited for it and, ultimately the most interesting part, it gives me a purpose in my own life. Thus I am a technophile.

technophobe: Technology scares me. At the start of my college career when I was beginning to study Philosophy, I read some work by neo-Freudian Psychoanalyst Erich Fromm. Specifically, the book was The Art of Being and it changed the way I felt about a lot of things. It supported a lot of Neo-in-the-matrix type feelings I had been having for some time then, and caused me to begin a complete upheaval of my core values. Valuing objects was out, valuing the self was in. Value was emphasized on purity, on love, and on wholeness. I loved this new feeling, it made me feel in many ways like an elitist. In that way, it was much like the way technology makes me feel today. Nearing final exam week in the first semester of my Sophomore year at college, I was riding high on this feeling and got fed up with my attachment to everyday objects. So I shut down my computer. It was one of the most difficult things I had ever done; not permanently feeling connected via internet was a strange and alienating experience. However, it did feel oddly liberating. It changed the way I felt about my free time: the concept of boredom nearly vanished from my lexicon. I was able to thrive on my studies, which enabled me to achieve my first perfect 4.0 semester. I loved what I was doing to myself. Of course, it didn't last forever. Eventually I went back to my technopolitan ways of old, and ever since I've been afraid of it, knowing that I was holding myself back from being a free human being, completely unbeholden to any outside force. In this way, I am a technophobe.

This blog is about reconciling these labels I've given myself. I seek to answer some of these questions, and no doubt many more:

What is the right balance between these two? How much of my life should be spent as a technophile? How much should embrace the fears generated by my technophobia?

Is there anything inherently wrong with technology? Is there anything wrong with throwing oneself into it? How does one live in a society surrounded by it while still trying to resist it? Is there anything wrong with completely resisting it?

In what ways is the modern human really a cyborg? What everyday attachments to technology do we experience? Which of them do we acknowledge, and which do we ignore?

...

Some days I may post about how excited I am about some new advance or some new aspect of technology I have incorporated into my life. Other days I will probably post about how afraid I am of all of this, how I feel I'm slipping and losing my sense of self, letting it be replaced by my connection with electronic circuitry, wirelessly or tethered with cord.

Feel free to tell me about your own experiences with this. I'd be foolish to believe that I am the only one stressing over this dilemma.