Talking About Talking
An op-ed by Louis Rene Beres in the Chicago Tribune tries to get to the root of cell phone mania. Link. She raises interesting points in a poetic way:
Talking on a cell phone makes the caller feel more important, more valuable, less alone, less lonely.
At a time when "rugged individualism" has become a nostalgic myth in America, being witnessed in conversation with another--any other--is presumed to be absolutely vital. Certainly, the nature or urgency of the particular phone conversation is mostly irrelevant. In many readily observable cases the exchange consists of meaningless blather punctuated by monosyllabic grunts. There is no vital content here; certainly nothing to resemble a serious reflex of thought or feeling.
All that really matters is that the caller be seen talking with another human being and that the conversation push away emptiness and anxiety. . .
Trying to fill some vacancy within themselves, the compulsive cell-phone users should now remind us of a revealing image from T.S. Eliot: They are the "hollow men," they are the "stuffed men," leaning together as they experience painful feelings of powerlessness. More than anything else, they fear finding themselves alone, and so they cannot find themselves at all.
The noisy and shallow material world has infested our solitude; upon all of us the predictable traces of herd life have now become indelible. Facing an indecent alloy of banality and apocalypse, we Americans seek both meaning and ecstasy in techno-connections. . .
Cell-phone addiction is merely the very visible symptom of a pervasive pathology. The underlying disease is a social order built upon nonsense, a literally mindless network of jingles, advertised meanings and ready-made ideas that deplores individuality and celebrates slogans.
Our American society has lost all sense of awe in the world.
Cell phones in hand, we talk on and on because we would rather not think, and we would rather not think because there is no apparent emotional or material payoff for serious thought.