The unbearable and consuming annoyance of portable media displays.

At the risk of letting this devolve into yet another anti-(smart)(cell)-hone spiel, I want to focus on one of the most bothersome aspects of today’s smart phone culture.

(In preface, I’ve made it known, numerous times, that I disdain phones and all they are.  I refuse to invest in a smart phone, text plan, data plan, etc, because I simply have no urge to be connected to the world and its dreary 2-legged inhabitants, around the clock).

 

 

Here’s the thing: despite the fact I can control my own ownership (or lack thereof) and involvement in phone culture, I can’t control how other people live their lives.  That’s fine with me. I don’t allow myself to get too bothered by the consumerist habits of sheeple. I have (many) opinions, but I recognize they are just that, and there is no reason upsetting myself about said gluttonous human habits.

Yet.

Yet…despite this, I have no control over one thing:  that incessant need people have to pull out their phone and show you the latest personal or public video/image file that is simply itching to entertain the public imagination from its Apple-fied, encased silicon confines.

I can be sitting there, minding my own serene business, and suddenly Subject A, fucknut, will walk up to me, imbecilic grin leering, and announce, “Hey, look at this photo I took of xxx.  Isn’t it hilarious”?

They then extend that damned phone and hold it 3 inches form my face and I must act amused as the most unfunny, unremarkable shit in the world beams back at me from that deathly little screen (even the most oversized, overpriced Apple shit is small). Worse is when they want to show you a raucous, grating video of last week’s {fill in the blank with some facile event of no significance whatsoever} and you have to sit there for like 45 seconds watching this shit you don’t give a flying fuck about.

And worse yet, it’s loud.  The sound on those phones is immense and I wish to pull out my eardrums, delicate-piece-by-delicate-piece, when confronted by such crap.

My work office mate got a clue a while back.

It must have been that abhorrent grimace on my face every time she thrust her phone in my face joyously, thinking videos of her fucking kids would matter to me.  She finally stopped doing that  to me.  But not everyone got the memo and I still encounter these mobile media shows of shit more often than I can tolerate.

I simply do not care to see or listen to the insignificant occurrences in other people’s lives all the time.    My own time is my own.  If I need entertainment, I’ll seek it out…don’t intrude into my personal sphere of sanctity to show me shit that doesn’t matter to me.