The Fall of Civilization... and its relationship with mobile phones.
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Following the publication of my first column, (Scurvy, I didn't think you were ignoring me, I thought you had gone on holiday, or were trapped in your cellar, surviving on only cat-litter and old TV guides, so don't worry.) I decided to write another one, again covering a subject I keep very close to my heart - and which are probably poisoning me with lethal radiation as we speak: Mobile Phones!
I don't know much about the situation on mobiles in the US - I've heard you call them cell phones, but I don't know why... Mine looks nothing like a cell - nothing at all... strange...
The UK market, however, I know a bit more about. It's full. Every has one. Most people have two. Everywhere you go, there are mobiles. Everywhere. Everywhere. You can't get away from them. They hunt you. They follow you. They are everywhere, plotting, planning.....
I can't really understand why mobile phones became so popular in the first place. Conventional phones are the most irritating things on the planet, with the exception of Gareth Gates (look him up, he's a ****.). All they do is interrupt you doing something you enjoy, like swimming, or bear-baiting, and let you do something you don't, like talking to distant relatives who live 100 miles away. (Doesn't it ever occur to these people that the reason you chose to live 100 miles away from them was so that you wouldn't have to speak to them every day. And hear about their cat's latest operation, while secretly hoping that the vet would make a mistake, and remove its heart and put it on a spike outside his office, because that cat is evil. The devil chose it as his representative on earth, since he/she was afraid it would take over, and reinvent Hell as a terrible realm of fur-balls, scratch marks all over your hands, and vomit in your bed. )
And now, with a mobile, you don't even have to be in the house! You can be irritated anytime, anywhere! Wonderful! You can be sitting in a café, drinking your coffee, plotting your next major crime, and be interrupted there as well. You could be hang gliding, bull-fighting, or sitting at home watching the goldfish swim in circles. Round and round and round, until you think you're hypnotised, but then you look down and realise it was just last night's pizza, and still be interrupted, and still be irritated.
Nothing that is said on mobile phones actually matters. Most of it could wait a few days, they could send it as a letter, or email, and you could read it during a particularly boring moment, such as Countdown. (For any non-UK or employed visitors, I don't know if you have Countdown over there, but it basically consists of Richard Whitely (also a ****), and Carol Vorderman (apparently very clever) chortling at each others terrible anecdotes. It's the government's way of punishing the unemployed.) The only acceptable use for mobile phones is if you are drowning, or trapped in a burning building, and need to call for help. And if you're drowning, it's really hard to press the buttons. And the treading water while you're on hold, listening to 'Not Waving But Drowning' is terrible. (If you are bleeding to death, please press 1, If you have severe head injuries, please press 2. If you are unsure of the extent of your injuries, press 3 to be connected to our interactive diagnosis system.)
A mobile is annoying enough if it is yours, but when the offending phone is someone else's, it's even worse. You can't help overhearing the conversations, despite how terribly pointless they are. An Example: “Hi dear. Yes.. I'm on the train. Yeah, it's the same train I always catch. Yeah, I'll be home about 6.30.. Yeah, same as usual. Yeah, I am still a terribly boring person... Yeah, I really have nothing better to do than call you every day and say exactly the same thing.... Yeah, well, bye..” Then, he has the cheek to look around at everyone else on the carriage, smirking about how important he is, so much so that he needs to be reachable at any moment, even when on the 5.35 to Slough.
Mobile phones are Evil. I'm sure I've convinced you of that. They are Evil. In fact, you should print out this article, make 50 copies of it, and hand one to everyone you see speaking on any form of mobile communication device. Walkie Talkies, (My spellchecker seems to think they should be Walkie Tackies, which is quite appropriate. The last one I owned got dropped in the garden, and kept beeping Morse code as I spoke. It was like being in the Osbournes... I'd only got it so I could talk to the boy next-door, I was seven, and it was easier to shout out the window... In fact, I had to shout to him to turn his on whenever I wanted to speak. It interfered with the television as well, halfway through 'Transformers' the screen would go all funny, and it would screech loudly.) mobiles, carrier pigeons (Terrible things, spread diseases and do unpleasant things on your car, and the guy down the road takes pot-shots at them, and then cooks them if he hits, good with sage, apparently. ). Stand there while they read it, then when they've finished, hit them with a baseball bat. Once more. That's good, very good.
Now report to my camp in the Outer Hebrides, where your treatment will complete... Soon you will be ready... Ready to serve me.... So strike with all your might, dear reader, so that you may be a step closer to the catatonic bliss that my other subjects enjoy...
On a lighter note, I've just heard there will be a sequel to Syberia, and not just any sequel, a sequel planned from the start. That will help me through the lonely, lonely evenings, when the urges get too great, and just looking at the “Baby Animals” calender makes it hard to control them... See you real soon kids!
Your Pal,
Mr X (It stands for XXXtreme) (No, honestly.) |
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