Shackled to a Screen

 

“Lay no foundation upon which you build yourself a cell.”  Father Abbot Zeno, Zen Buddhist

 * * *

‘Tis the season to be jolly, the carols sing. Christmas is near. And here I sit getting acquainted with my newest body part, a knee. Maybe the Christmas season is not the best time to replace failed body parts, but when is? But like a flat tire, you can’t go anywhere till it’s fixed.  

So my shopping limits itself to the little 3” x 5” iPhone cell in my hand. I order, they ship. What a deal. Amazon has the answer for everything. They even offer me multiple suggestions day and night. Thinking is unnecessary anymore with this little marvel of human creation.

But as I sit looking at it, another thought captures my mind. Maybe I’m yielding some personal freedom to the convenience it offers. And there are many conveniences contained in those little micro-chip apps embedded in the device. I’m not alone in this thought.

I was coming out of the post office the other day, well, let’s say I was hobbling out to be correct, and ran into a friend. He’s consumed with the cell screen as he walks in, checking this, checking that.

I tell him shove it in his pocket, get into the present moment. He tells me it is his present moment, every moment. He says he’s become a slave to the wretched device. He says he even dreams about it. I ask him to explain this addiction.

His eyes take on this wild and glittering glare. “It’s like this,” he says. “Every night I dream the same thing. I dream that ten thousand years in the future another alien culture is excavating the ancient ruins of our culture. There are no monuments of famous people, no soldiers upon bronze horses, no obelisks, no church steeples, religious symbols anywhere. They’ve all been removed.”

“Well, they’re doing a pretty good job of that now,” I say.

“But what’s strange is that they have all been replaced,” he says.

“Replaced with what?” I ask.

“Replaced everywhere, with sculptures of concrete hands, hands with fingers reaching to the sky, and holding high the bronzed replica of an iPhone 99. And inscribed on the base of those colossal sculptures is this: ‘Our Redeemer.’”

“That’s not only strange, but it’s also a weird vision of the future. Maybe you’re a prophet,” I add.

He laughs at that, and I tell him to take a big swig of eggnog before bedtime and dream of visions of lollipops dancing in his head.

Such encounters get me to thinking about cell phones in general. What is it about this tiny computer that has caused us to fall in love with it? It’s like a new body part, it’s become indispensable. We carry it in pockets, purses, vehicles. We sleep with it, it reminds us of things, it talks to us, it connects us. It has so captivated our curiosity that we’re slaves to it.

Slaves, you say? No way. We’re free, we can put it down anytime we want. Really?

Now look me in the eyes and say it’s not so, tell me you can live without it, tell me you’re not its prisoner of your own choosing. You’ll no sooner say it than it will mock you.

Try to put it down, not look at it. Time yourself. You jump when it beeps, you flinch when it vibrates. Without it you feel naked and fearful. It’s your alter ego.   You’re tethered to this cursed contraption. Run, but you can’t hide.

Maybe you’re not having nightmares or visions of the future, but one thing is certain: our culture, which includes you and me, has become enticed, allured, tempted and drawn away of our lust for all things convenient and ‘now.’ We’re seduced by its applications, its stealth creeps in like an invisible ghost and robs us of our time and joy of the present moments.

How did we get into such a fix? Little by little, like boiling the frog in cold water. Before we know it, we’re cooked, hooked and shackled with the invisible ball and chains of modern technology. 

Is there any way out of this prison of dependence? Like any addiction, abstinence is the answer. Break the chains, bubba.

 * * *

Ok, maybe I’m being too dramatic, but I’m hooked same as you. It’s all up to us…enjoy its benefits and avoid its pitfalls. Moderation pays dividends.

So long for now. Fed X is at my door.

 

Bud Hearn

December 12, 2022