Smartphone Apocalypse

The world is ending without a bang. Without even a whimper. The world is ending with the annoying chirp of angry birds, and the…whatever other sounds smartphones make.

The world is ending, and most people haven’t even noticed. They’re too busy obsessively pininteresting or posting status updates on facebook asking what pininterest is. They’re too busy playing words with friends, or hanging with friends, or drawing with friends or chess with friends to realize that they dont…have any actual friends. They’re even too busy spending hours playing scrabble and hangman, and pictionary and chess to realize that they’re spending hours playing….scrabble, hangman, pictionary, and chess. Those aren’t games adults choose to play. Those are games you play when you’re stuck visiting grandma because the old hag doesn’t have cable and the only other option is watching her pick listlessly at her most recent 8 billion piece puzzle about cats with her super gross gnarly arthritic fingers.

I do not have a smart phone. I barely have a cell phone. On the mobile phone technology scale, I rank somewhere between those hilarious briefcase-sized car phones from the late 70’s, and cupping your hands around your mouth and yelling really loudly. My cell phone is a burner. A pre-paid. A six-dollar flip phone I picked up at a kiosk in the mall. It has two volumes: On and off. Its call quality: poor. Its ring tone: a ring tone. It has no camera. It does not access the internet.It has no touch screen, and the buttons are small and sticky. It is in no way user friendly. I love it with every inch of my shrivelled grinch heart.

Whenever I pull it out while in new company, it immediately becomes everybody’s favorite topic of communication. “Like, oh my glob, how can you even use that thing!? You totally need an iPhone!”

No. No no. Why do I need an iPhone? So I can take shitty photos of myself, apply a digital filter, and upload it to instagram? Do you know what your instagram account says about you? It says “not only do I enjoy taking shitty photos and pretending they’re real art, since i’m a self-absorbed narcissistic douche, I also have to broadcast those photos across the internet, screaming “Hey look at me!”, and maybe, just maybe if I show half a nip, or the thick patch of hair at the base of my spine, some jerk-off I don’t know will “like” my photo. That would be cool! Then i’d be popular! Right!?!?! RIGHT!?!?! LOVE MEEEEEEEE!!!!!!”

“But Max, I have a smartphone, and I don’t use instagram. They’re useful for other stuff too, like checking facebook.” Oh thank god. I can check facebook. I definitely couldn’t wait until I got home and turned on my laptop to do that. I might have missed out on the clever witticisms of my genius friends.

I work during the day. Most of my friends work during the day. What could they possibly be posting on facebook that is worth looking at? And if they aren’t working, and they are posting awesome stuff about their vacation to Tahiti, I don’t want to fucking see it while i’m locked in the office, so stop bragging about your happiness you ass burglars, I hope the entire island sinks like Atlantis and you drown and die and octopi eat your face bones.

I get it. I really do. Smartphones are a lot of fun. Well, so is crack. But like crack, smartphones are really best enjoyed in moderation.

When I wake up a 3am, and Mistress is lying in bed playing Forestville in the dark, that’s creepy.

When I sit down in a crowded bar during happy hour, surrounded by friends, and everybody is so engrossed with whatever they’re doing on their smartphones that the room is silent, that’s beyond creepy. That’s the world ending.

Other people have commented on the smartphone obsession phenomenon. You can read a recent article about it here.

Or if you have 2o minutes to spare, you can watch this video clip.

And of course, if you don’t have that kind of time, you can always just look at this scientific equation I made with science.

iPhone equals Forever Alone

When you’re done using your smartphone, feel free to come find me. I’ll be the guy enjoying the real world.


About Max T Kramer

Max has been better than you at writing since the third grade. He currently lives in Connecticut, but will someday return to the desert.
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