So, for a few weeks my iPod has been out of commission. I've been trying not to, but I've been missing it. I don't really use it that much. I connect it to my car for my drives to and from work (unless a Sabres' game is on during my commute home), and occasionally listen to it at work, though I'm not sure how likely that will be now that I'm working in clinical with Mark and Mike. When I worked at the C Divert with James, there was this unspoken agreement that he would listen to whatever he wanted to before lunch, and I would listen to my stuff after lunch (though to be fair, I was discreet in my choices for music so as not to offend him). Working with these older guys though, I'm not sure how cool they would be with my choice in music. But they leave at 5, so when I get my device back, I'll have a couple of hours to myself to have whatever I want on.
I want to chalk up the feeling of loss I have to the fact that music is a big part of my life, and just pretend that it's the music I can't live without. That's what I really crave, the music I no longer have with me. I've made some CDs to cope in the meantime, but there always seems to be something I want to listen to that I don't have with me. Of course, I can't help but wonder whether what I truly miss is the connection to this electronic device that I always have with me. It's similar to when I forget my cell phone some days, or even when I have it with me but the battery is low (and I correspondingly feel drained and tired).
Imagine if my iPod were wireless. Then I'd really be jones'n.
Monday, February 12, 2007
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.
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.
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