Here's another wonderful essay by the (yes I am going to say it ... again) always-wonderful Ralph Greco, Jr!
Do I Really Need To Know?
Ralph Greco, Jr!
Ralph Greco, Jr!
I have postulated and will continue to, that our Smart Phones are not making us so very smart at all ... in fact they are making us dummer ... fuck knows, they are making us less polite.
Really, I don’t need to know everything. Have I a simple conversational query don’t feel you have to look up the answer right then. It’s okay if I don’t know who sang that arcane 70’s tune (actually in my case, I’ll probably know who did, facts about arcane 70’s tunes is about all I do know) but really-hey, look at me, I’m talking to you-you don’t need to bury your nose in your smart phone/G4/whatever-the-fuck you have so proudly just bought and, as Jerry Seinfeld so perfectly pointed out, act like a gay French king swiping high, long and lovingly with his digit looking-up the answer.
Unless I want to know a movie time or maybe find a gas station really, you can stop with the fucking phone ok? Really! I know you’re aching to know every single thing at every single moment-God knows you can’t be away from your Facebook so you’re checking it in front of me at the play (dude, the light, don’t you realize the light is distracting? Come on, that ‘click-itty-click-clik’, don’t you get that I paid as much for these tickets as you and I want to enjoy what’s in front of me be it movie, concert or Broadway show without having to endure you texting next to me…that you are at said movie, concert or Broadway show) and yes, I know you want to be able to provide the party with all the answers. I know you just ache to know the score to the game. You want to be able to recite factoids from IMDB, but dude, dudes, brah, honey ... I really don’t need to know these answers the minute the questions are formed by my or anyone else’s lips.
In fact, I’d postulate, that not knowing for a bit, ruminating round your noggin’ the possibilities, shit maybe even looking up something later in a freaking book for Christ’s sake! (can you imagine such a thing you slug?) might keep the old brain pan stimulated far better than being able to flick for the fact with your freaking fingers.
Look, I love ya, I really do. But I’m on a need to know basis only and usually I don’t need to know.