Oblivions II: Rise of the Obliviots

You've been there before. We all have. You're in a theater enjoying a movie or a play. You've already seen and heeded the polite request to silence your cell phones. Sure, inevitably one goes off, things are mumbled about the person's mother or something about bamboo reeds and fingernails, but if the movie is truly good enough, you soon have your attention redirected and no longer care about the Oblivion that can't find the off mode of their electronic ball and chain.

Then, below and to the side, a large firefly appears. Then another. Then another. Soon, what was once darkness only lit by the flicker on the screen is awash in a pale blue glow of cell displays. Thinking it is simply the death screen as they are being switched off, you ignore it... til you realize they're not going away. They're texting. Everybody.

You've just encountered an Obliviot. This is a special kind of oblivion - a person who walks through their daily life with no idea whatsoever that they are surrounded by other people. Obliviots are a hybrid; part normal, reasonable person, and part oblivious idiot when combined with a cell phone. Separate the two, and after the withdrawal period (that can include tears, death threats, and the shakes) they revert to their normal semi-productive selfs.

Fellow blogger (and gun-nut) Xavier recently had a run-in with some Obliviots while attending a play:

Last night I suffered through a play in which I was surrounded by cellphone users. No less than five were on either side of me and in front of me, yakking into the damn things, text messaging into the damned things, and ruining the experience of the theater for everyone around them. That theater held over 300 people. I have to wonder how many cellphone minutes were used during the time that these morons had paid to see a play. A play is supposed to be a means of escaping the drudgery of one's life. Why would anybody even consider going to the theater and talking on a cellphone the entire time? What was so damned important that those calls could not be avoided?If the matters were that important, then why did the person stay at the play and yammer into their link to their pathetic little worlds? Why not leave and go take care of the problem?

He then goes on to offer this dead-on assessment, that I'm not going to censor (contains mild language):

No, in our hedonistic Paris Hilton wannabe wonderland of self indulgent egotistical bullshit existence, digital dialogue has become an emotional crutch, a reminder that a person exists, that a person matters, insurance that a person's life will not run away without them if they step away for a while. It's a pathetic ego stroke for the co-dependent ranger, who cannot exist for a couple of hours without contact with the mothership. Hell, today 10 year old children have cellphones! Who is paying the bills on this stuff? Who is making the money? Why do people think they need it?

Believe it or not, there was a time that people, even children, ventured forth without electronic umbilical cords. People took vacations to get away from their telephone. They got away from their house. They went places with people they loved, spent time with them talking face to face, and they built enduring relationships rather than cellphone debt. What have we become? We have been sold a false bill of goods, a surreptitious nihilistic bill of goods, and our society is lapping it up like blind puppies lapping up antifreeze. Cellphones do not bring us together, No. They drive us apart. They do not build society, they destroy the possibilities of functioning in a society without them. For one day, if you are a cellphone ranger, turn it off. You will live.