Wednesday, August 09, 2006

From the ether, something real





Untitled Document


Response to a mechanized message:
Subject: No Mouse, No Keyboard... New UI Design...

To: Everyone, and no one
Re: the demise of civilization

civilization

One entry found for civilization.

Main Entry: civ·i·li·za·tion
Pronunciation: "si-v&-l&-'zA-sh&n
Function: noun
1 a : a relatively high level of cultural and technological development; specifically : the stage of cultural development at which writing and the keeping of written records is attained b : the culture characteristic of a particular time or place
2 : the process of becoming civilized
3 a : refinement of thought, manners, or taste b : a situation of urban comfort (in the context of this note Mr. Webster, I'd much prefer "urbane") -SEV
I suppose this means that the "written" word will now be input via microphone? Sign language? Manipulation of symbols and hieroglyphs on the "touch" screen (can you say "digital keyboard", Oh Great and mighty RA ? - of course you can't - you have no language, do you? But boy, are your pictures purty, you iconoclastic SOB).
Now where did I leave my Rosetta Stone?
The screen looks like something upon which I'd beat out a tome with a stick (or, better, encourage via language and logic some ruffian to perform said menial task for me) - Eureka! We have our missing link, and he is us.
As goes the language, thus goes the society.
So much for composition and framing one's thoughts.
My bet is that in ten years we will no longer need dictionaries as there will probably only be ten words in our communal vocabulary (at that point I feel certain we will be forced to rely on our intuition suma cum total, thus reverting completely to our caveman heritage; but then, there are times I rather like grunting and intuitively trying to make sense of the grunts of others - like upon hearing grunts about some new "interface", for instance).
Imagine the world of tomorrow in which the only inter-"face" ing will be accomplished through a cold and heartless machine. Who needs imagination - just look at all the cell phones, laptops and PDA's (this e-mail).
No one talks "to" each other anymore - only "at" one another.
Just do what comes natural and to hell with 200,000 years of effort to build what passes for civil-i-zation (Australopithecus, where art thou? We will know the answer in due time as you sit at your screen of doom and try to become sentient working so hard to make sense of what you see - comprehending nothing but a meager mirror of what was once a world to which you were long ago physically connected).
As far as I'm concerned, the geek-meisters can completely devolve as such and inherit this, their knave, lewd world.
Which way to the library? Oh, never mind. Some flamer inappropriately pseudo-named "Rip Diddy" burned it down to make way for a new game-boy or i-pod factory; or, perhaps some kickin' wi-fi hotspot designed specifically for romantic encounters with his new lady love, his beloved "touch" screen (oh, his mighty kingdom for a curve and well-conceived whisper).
He might once have been a diddy rippin' son-of-a-gun were it not for the demise of his lingo, Bingo. Now he just sits and stares at his precious lite bright, his illuminated screen of scant, little illumination.
Give me a cave, a quill and a goat's hide and I will rule this lousy world of rubes, one perfectly-formed character at a time.
Now how is it that I reboot this damned inferm-al machine? Looks like one of our new-found geniuses tossed the instructions in favor of intuitively stroking and petting his pretty, pretty box (reminds one of Lennie Small and his soft, albeit dead, mouse - and we ALL know what happened to good ol' Lennie http://www.evermore.com/azo/99season/omm_syn.php3).
Mercy, mercy me - cave painting, here we come.
On the up-side...it will do wonders for original thinking.

2 comments:

Xavier Martel said...

What in the name of Sam Hill was that post all about!?! Jeez-o-Pete! Methinks Stan is imbibing too many blackberry martinis.

Anonymous said...

Ah yes, to think, perchance to imbibe.

It was, my friend, an angry answer to a useless e-mail sent by some ambitious young soul with grand ideas of a future wrought in stone (sans keyboard and relying solely on some programmer's idea of what language should have been).

I do not know what is amiss in the font, however.