Alanis Morrisette (are you still alive?) take note. 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife is not ironic. The other night I called T-mobile on my cell phone to add my wife as another line on my cell phone plan. It took 20 minutes, 3 transfers, 2 calls and my wife intervening to actually make that happen. What is ironic about that? 1. They are a communications company and they weren’t communicating with either each other or me. 2. There was some serious interference on either my side or his, but at one point in the phone call, the Customer Service Agent said, “Wow, the connection on this line is really bad.” 3. I asked this agent if I could give him my home phone number and he could call me back. He said they were only an inbound call center, so unfortunately, he couldn’t call me back. From a call center. Of a cell phone company.
As you all may know, from either my past posts, or from my bitterness in every aspect of my life, I hate phones. If Marty McFly came to my house and said you can only take 100 trips to the past, future or present, 1 of those trips would be Alexander Gram Bell’s house, circa whenever he was inventing phones and tell him to not invent the phone. Either that or smash any the phone right before he invented it and tell him to just skip to texting or internet. I would tell him of the horrors of a dark, evil and downright scary dungeon-like place called a call center. I would show him pictures of rich, teenage girls with nothing better to do buy talking on phones about the fact that they were too tired from carrying all the $1000 pair of shoes they bought.
The worst part of the phone is the noise. If you’ve ever seen any horror movie ever, the best way to scare someone completely senseless is to turn the lights down, make it completely silent and then surprise someone with a loud ring from a phone. Add the creepy “voice modification” on the other end and you have yourself a complete heart attack. Noone every died of a heart attack from getting an email or text.
You know what else makes noise? Other people. People wear shoes with noisemakers(not just clowns), others swish when they walk. Do you know what kind of shoes don’t make noise? Socks. But the worst noise is the one that comes from the big facehole between the nose and the chin. We were given five senses for a reason. The most important sense is the common sense to not to ever use it(the facehole not the common sense). It is always getting people in trouble, and nothing smart has ever come out of it. So just follow the Anti-Nike slogan and just don’t use it. If you have something smart to say, which you don’t, type it or use a pencil and write it down, then throw it away where no one will ever see it. Let my eyes tell you the story. They say: Don’t talk to me. Leave me alone. Go away. No, I don’t want to do that.
Other people’s kid’s are noisy. First they cry and babble. Then they try to walk and talk. Soon they are learning how to build things, make things, be constructive, etc. Please parents, don’t encouraging children to grow and learn and experiement. All that will ever do is lead to more noise. That has never been a good thing. This will just give them the confidence to be leaders and builders and creators. In other words, you are just teaching them to make more noise. As you know, leaders just talk and shout and motivate. No one wants to hear more words. Builders are pounding nails, hammering things, pushing knobs and switches and powering things up. More noise. Creators are typing, and molding, talking to a camera and inventing things like phones. Noise. Please just teach your kids not to talk, not to cry and not to be “anything they can dream of being”. Because noise.
Please, if you want to do your part of saving the planet(which will die out eventually in 40 trillion years anyways), stop making noise. Don’t wear shoes, stop being another person, definitely don’t be a phone and most importantly don’t be other people’s kids. Stop dreaming of being something in your life. Just be the most noisefree, insignificant person you can be. Be all you can’t be. Recumbentibus!
Bitterly Quiet Ben