h+ Magazine

Summer 2009

Issue link: http://cp.revolio.com/i/1161

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AI BIO eNHANCeD NANO NeurO HumOr FOreVer YOuNG 82 summer 2009 BIO eNHANCeD NANO NeurO HumOr I'm trying to prevent this futuristic device from being invented by convincing you to relinquish the primitive prototype in your pocket. Why? The fi rst sign of singularity shock is when information technology changes so fast that the average human brain can no longer keep pace, causing intolerable cognitive dissonance and, eventually, madness. slower brains are canaries in the coal mine, and I'm here to squawk. Here are a few examples of intolerable cell-phone-induced cognitive dissonance: Twice a month, I get a cell phone call from my buddy's balls. I turn on my answering machine and listen to twenty minutes of his testicles rustling around in his pants while in the muffl ed distance I hear him talk baby talk with that psychette he told me he broke up with. sometimes his nads catch me when I'm home. I listen live while I holler into the phone for him to take me off his damn speed dial. eventually he hears my tiny voice screaming from his scrotum and claims I'm not on his speed dial. But that would mean that during the hundreds of thousands of steps he takes each month, his baubles randomly type out my phone number and hit send every two weeks, like a ten-thousand-monkeys-on-typewriters kind of thing. I should point out my friend wears saggy homeboy jeans — which I call incontinence pants — with his baseball cap on sideways, and an overlarge shirt with a giant number and somebody else's name on it, an ensemble that sends a rebellious message of mental retardation. I'm not judgmental about this, except that his incontinence pants place his cell phone in proximity. I don't know about you, but when jingleberries dial me up making sounds as if to demonstrate Newton's Cradle in my ear, I'm way past the point of psychological overload. It's time to turn back now. second example of cell-phone-induced singularity shock: I was alone in the men's room using the urinal. I heard somebody walk in behind me, step into a stall, and latch the door. He jingled his belt, sighed, and said: "Hey, how are you doing?" I looked around to double-check that we were defi nitely alone. "Okay, I guess." "I just stepped into the men's room." "Yeah, I fi gured." "so how's it going?" "um … everything's coming along fi ne." "Where are we getting dinner afterwards?" "Look, guy, I'm straight." "Hang on a second, sweet pea. Hey out there! Leave me alone! You want me to call the cops right now?" "Oh! No-no! sorry! "No, it's okay. Just some pervert. You were saying?" The advent of the cell phone age has provoked an assault on our most cherished values, including the ancient taboo against discussing dinner plans while defecating. Next time you borrow somebody's cell phone, remember your Handi Wipes. I hope this story inspires you to chuck the damn thing into the recycle bin and join Bill and I in our journey back to the seventies, where we embrace the following technology: A call-waiting enhancement that, instead of interrupting your conversation, sends an automatic message to the caller telling them you are busy right now and to please call back later. No interruption, it doesn't charge the caller for the call, and the responsibility for making contact remains on the person trying to contact you. sound convenient? We had that in 1975. It was called the busy signal. We don't even need to go back that far. I'll settle for any relinquishment back to the time before I received messages like this on my message machine: "Joe it's … blt … meet us at … o'clock … All the lobster and steak you can eat, pro bono strippers, plus … mrl … call her back at 51 … 3 … 28. Okay, I'll expect you there!" relinquishment, step Two: Talking GPss. shut the hell up. I'm trying to fi gure out where I am. If I wanted my masculinity threatened by a voice telling me where to turn, I'd bring my wife. Joe Quirk is the bestselling author of fi ction and non-fi ction. His new novel, eXuLT, is the very fi rst digital ebook published exclusively at scribd by a mainstream author. You can buy it for two bucks. http://www.scribd.com/doc/15582558/ eXuLT-by-Jow-Quirk Twice a month, I get a cell phone call from my buddy's balls. buddy's balls.

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