It's coming close to new computer time, and, as happens each time this question rolls around, I toy with the idea of a laptop, temporarily seduced by twenty year out of date images of sitting around in coffee shops writing the novel which I realised ten years ago I was never going to write. It is a sign of how divorced I am from the modern world that this is the debate I have with myself, a choice between two dinosaurs of computing, with my preference inevitably being for the older and hoarier of the two, the good old-fashioned desktop PC.
Why am I not even entertaining the idea of something newer, shinier, smaller, whizzier? And the answer is simple, I don't want the sodding internet with me everywhere I go. I quite like viewing the world as it is, I like a bit of haphazardness, I like accidental discoveries, I don't want to read a fucking TripAdvisor review before I decide whether to go into a café or not. I also cherish retaining the ability to do things myself, rather than relying on a phone to sort it our for me. I am in no sense anti-technology, I relish the power for informing and self-determination that social media has unleased (whilst simultaneously banging my head against the wall at the ludicrous, performative, lying side to humanity it's helped), but I like to keep it at arm's length, in a box, in the conservatory.
Frankly, I don't want a GPS signal in my pocket. I don't want to feel compelled to keep up with things. I certainly don't want a little box in the corner of my home deciding what music I want to listen to. More and more, it seems, technological advances are about the removal of choice, rather than the expansion of it, as the tech giants become the gatekeepers, arbiters of what we see, hear, listen to, experience. Well, you can fuck that right off for a start.
I'm equally aware of the counter-argument to this, that a Spotify playlist can bring you things you've never heard, be an aid to discovery, that those TripAdvisor reviews could help you find a place you'd never have gone to otherwise (though, speaking as someone who's eaten at most of his local places, I find the idea that I'd take the recommendations of the local dining public with anything other than a vast pinch of salt slightly ludicrous), but the crucial difference is I like working stuff out for myself, I like finding things, I like a bit of mystery.
I'm lucky enough to be of the generation which repeatedly congratulates itself on growing up in a pre-internet age, but which was young enough to take the idea and run with it. Which is great, but it doesn't stop us from turning our lives into performance art, look at my kids, look at my lovely house, look, I'm on a beach, are you on a beach? I'm as guilty of this as anyone, but keeping it at arms length, in a box, in the conservatory means I don't act on impulse, if I want to stick a photo up on facebook it's a laborious, time-consuming process, it's not a thoughtless act. It's something I think people might like to see. This is not to imply that everyone else's is, it's more simply to state that I reckon that if I had the means to do so, I'd be flooding the internet with even more pointless crap than I already do.
Yes, of course, the elephant in the room is this, the blog, a performative act which has been ongoing for a long time, a monstrous act of egotism, as all self-publishing on the internet is. This is no better, morally speaking, than your artfully constructed selfie. It's a bit rich of me to criticise anyone. This is why I cordon these blogs off, only linked to via a page you've actively had to like, or a twitter feed you've actively had to follow. I don't really want to impose, it's the curse of the modern age. So, if you're here, you've made a choice to do so (one you're probably currently regretting).
I'm not really here to lecture, it's everyone's personal choice, after all, more to explain why I choose to avoid smartphones, avoid anything which draws me nearer to something which is becoming increasingly influential. There was a column I read recently where a journalist wrote about ditching her smartphone, and how she felt less anxiety and I thought really? You really think this is remarkable enough to write a column about? This is a seismic event for you? The rush to embrace new technologies always seems to imply an inevitability about it, this is my way of saying no, thanks. it's not. I don't "have" to have a smartphone in the same way that I don't have to have a hang-glider. It's an implement, which one can choose to use or not use. I choose not to. I choose to keep the internet here, in a box, in the conservatory, and when I finish writing this I'm going to put a link up on my writing page, and I'm going to tweet a link. And then I'm going to turn the internet off and go for a walk, and I won't look at a screen for the rest of the day because, and this is key, I won't need to. Have a lovely day.
Why am I not even entertaining the idea of something newer, shinier, smaller, whizzier? And the answer is simple, I don't want the sodding internet with me everywhere I go. I quite like viewing the world as it is, I like a bit of haphazardness, I like accidental discoveries, I don't want to read a fucking TripAdvisor review before I decide whether to go into a café or not. I also cherish retaining the ability to do things myself, rather than relying on a phone to sort it our for me. I am in no sense anti-technology, I relish the power for informing and self-determination that social media has unleased (whilst simultaneously banging my head against the wall at the ludicrous, performative, lying side to humanity it's helped), but I like to keep it at arm's length, in a box, in the conservatory.
Frankly, I don't want a GPS signal in my pocket. I don't want to feel compelled to keep up with things. I certainly don't want a little box in the corner of my home deciding what music I want to listen to. More and more, it seems, technological advances are about the removal of choice, rather than the expansion of it, as the tech giants become the gatekeepers, arbiters of what we see, hear, listen to, experience. Well, you can fuck that right off for a start.
I'm equally aware of the counter-argument to this, that a Spotify playlist can bring you things you've never heard, be an aid to discovery, that those TripAdvisor reviews could help you find a place you'd never have gone to otherwise (though, speaking as someone who's eaten at most of his local places, I find the idea that I'd take the recommendations of the local dining public with anything other than a vast pinch of salt slightly ludicrous), but the crucial difference is I like working stuff out for myself, I like finding things, I like a bit of mystery.
I'm lucky enough to be of the generation which repeatedly congratulates itself on growing up in a pre-internet age, but which was young enough to take the idea and run with it. Which is great, but it doesn't stop us from turning our lives into performance art, look at my kids, look at my lovely house, look, I'm on a beach, are you on a beach? I'm as guilty of this as anyone, but keeping it at arms length, in a box, in the conservatory means I don't act on impulse, if I want to stick a photo up on facebook it's a laborious, time-consuming process, it's not a thoughtless act. It's something I think people might like to see. This is not to imply that everyone else's is, it's more simply to state that I reckon that if I had the means to do so, I'd be flooding the internet with even more pointless crap than I already do.
Yes, of course, the elephant in the room is this, the blog, a performative act which has been ongoing for a long time, a monstrous act of egotism, as all self-publishing on the internet is. This is no better, morally speaking, than your artfully constructed selfie. It's a bit rich of me to criticise anyone. This is why I cordon these blogs off, only linked to via a page you've actively had to like, or a twitter feed you've actively had to follow. I don't really want to impose, it's the curse of the modern age. So, if you're here, you've made a choice to do so (one you're probably currently regretting).
I'm not really here to lecture, it's everyone's personal choice, after all, more to explain why I choose to avoid smartphones, avoid anything which draws me nearer to something which is becoming increasingly influential. There was a column I read recently where a journalist wrote about ditching her smartphone, and how she felt less anxiety and I thought really? You really think this is remarkable enough to write a column about? This is a seismic event for you? The rush to embrace new technologies always seems to imply an inevitability about it, this is my way of saying no, thanks. it's not. I don't "have" to have a smartphone in the same way that I don't have to have a hang-glider. It's an implement, which one can choose to use or not use. I choose not to. I choose to keep the internet here, in a box, in the conservatory, and when I finish writing this I'm going to put a link up on my writing page, and I'm going to tweet a link. And then I'm going to turn the internet off and go for a walk, and I won't look at a screen for the rest of the day because, and this is key, I won't need to. Have a lovely day.
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