Headed Toward an iPADDED Cell?

Headed toward an iPADDED cell —

Carly Simon’s VAIN fresh new HELL!

Intervention’s around the bend.

Let’s admit defeat, friend to friend.

Facing each other in real time,

Oh, abandon the “pantomime”!

Technology’s fun and quicker,

But we’re too drunk on THIS liquor?

All that I ever required of a clunky old manual typewriter and its keyboard?  Non-sticking keys, occasional fresh ribbons wound tightly enough yet a tad loosey-goosey, the capability to shift/capitalize and italicize or employ quotation marks to highlight — as per stage directions — for perhaps later reading the finished result aloud, ease of indenting, and a smooth carriage return accompanied by a zinging sound effect, etc., etc. and so forth. 

No computer geek, communication — via “floating anxiety” language transformed into permanent print — satisfies my psyche to the maximum.  Computer equals typewriter in my limited world.  I ask nothing more. 

 Wait!  Googling’s magic. I concede that miracle of referencing the entire world, and its contents thereof, to be phenomenal. Wiki you!  Wiki me!  May bulky, dusty, gilded, out-dated encyclopedia volumes, A through Z, rest in peace or live on as collector items.

However, in spite of myself, I currently claim membership in imaginary humanity via Facebook’s Goodreads, Linked-In, Blocked-Out, Up Yours, Back Off, Network Me a Little Higher and More to the Left, Kindle Kuddling, Nook Nonsense, and Discounted or Buy One Get One Free Items No One Needs or Wants, as well as On-Line Obits ‘N Stuff (leave a message for the deceased).

 You and I can access cyber-life through stationary, awkward, overly wired-up PCs (old hat by now), cell phones if top o’ the line, iPods, iPads, Blackberries, teensy tiny hand-held devices, or the entire surfaces of coffee-tables. 

Probably, soon we only need to flail our hands through the air to conjure up atlases, strings of movies, any magazines still in existence, chess boards, bridge partners — then simply scooch our motions up, down, right, left, to move onward and upward and into or outta there.  Maybe, someday, we’ll wave our arms at our over-priced electric vehicles (Automobiles, the bane of mankind!) which will tool driverlessly all over the roads, then load their trunks with groceries (more swooshing of limbs), OR consume – simply by pointing — virtual food photographs peering enticingly up as mouth-watering succulent delights hovering upon the kitchen table top.  (Super diet plan!)

When a seasoned Linked-In, affectedly professional, Mr. Jolly aloofly demands that I justify my fresh existence on said site, I long to reply to the stuffy part-time comic book illustrator. ”Me?  Are you joshing?  I am over-qualified and wearing an American flag motif Jantzen bathing suit equipped with a cantilevered brassiere effect, am ‘spike-heel-booted’ up to my outrageously slender knees, and go nowhere without a huge star poised dead-center atop my tiara which itself perches upon a grandly bluish-raven, overly-teased coiffure.  Now, sir, do you wish to ‘friend’ me – or not?  Together, through teamwork, the two of us might go very far (out!)”  An offer no grown man feverishly churning out literary masterpieces, for mass consumption by kids with more money than sense, ought to refuse.

Daily/nightly recommended “reads” crawl and often sprint onto my notifications. However repetitiously and seductively their cover-art advertises “BUY ME…DOWNLOAD NOW”, at my age … nude folks enjoying their water-color status, while wrapped tightly about one another, only inspire giggles or yawns.  One exception – “What to Do with a Naked Leprechaun” very nearly earned a PayPal nod from this bookworm.  “Deviant Devil!  Hades Squad.” and “Knight of Passion” and “Zebra Wore Red Stockings” as well as “Victorian Erotic Romance Trilogy” or “Wicked Missions” may be other titles to consider.  Having recently gloried in the publication of my first E-Book, I should investigate adjustment of both my writing style and choices of topics should I ever contribute a second “novel-approach” to this zany, one-note world. Salability at all costs – the bottom line!  The VERY bottom.

Carly Simon’s infectious musical composition YOU’RE SO VAIN never fails to transport me into Henry Mancini’s “dreamy Dreamsville “– her necessary message coordinated with that perkiest of finger-snapping beats.  Were I ever fortunate enough to enjoy a steaming, aromatic cup of latte with the composer, relaxing at a Martha’s Vineyard sidewalk bistro, I’d lean pronouncedly forward to examine whether or not “clouds”  float within …  or maybe instead seriously clot …  her java.  “Clouds in (her) coffee…clouds in (her) coffee…”  Until that day, her mystifying phrase continues to replay between my ears each time I re-visit those totally unrealistic, role-playing cyber-sites-links with a click of my mouse or whenever I devise my own inventive, directive phrase to stimulate my search engine in order to escape this world.

Five syllables now with suggested emphasis on each fourth syllable, almost waltzy-schmaltzy…altogether (Humming’s helpful to the tune of CLOUDS IN MY COFFEE)…”and uh-one and uh-two”!  Get ready!  Get set!  Go!

 Head-hunting’s silly!  Net-working’s nutty!  Hacking’s a booger!  Bragging’s so pointless!  “Act” like we DO care!  Find songs on YouTube!  Enter this contest!  Send a donation!  Praying for you now!  No-ti-fi-ca-tions!  Pills on our bureaus!  Hide from maniacs!  Posts in our daydreams!  Blogs in our nightmares!  Twiddle Blackberry!  Obsessed with status(-es)!  Wrinkles in his shirts!  Forget the laundry!   Boycott telephones!  Notes on our dashboards!  Cupboards seem quite bare!  Clean sheets—what are those?  Always, we’ll eat out!  Aches in our back-sides!  Admit addiction!  Numbness in both feet!  Typos all over!  “You’ve reached your limit!”  Stalkers on my page!  Copy ‘n paste THAT!  Buy more equipment!  Facebook dominates!  Shut off devices!  Remember real life?  Good-bye to all strife!  New day is dawning!  Sun’s in its Heaven!

“All’s right with the world!”  (from “Pippa Passes” by Robert Browning, 1841)

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