On Adult Diapers, Erectile Dysfunction, and Other Joys of Oversharing  
 
The most obvious evidence of that cultural dynamic lies in those moments where the real and the virtual collide. As I’ve argued elsewhere, the totemic technologies of our times—the cellphone, the iPod, the Blackberry—are turning our psyches inside out, reversing the polarities of public and private. They make solitude portable, encapsulating the solipsistic self in a media bubble. More and more, we’re alone in public, oblivious to the world around us. Thus the ubiquitous obscenity of couples sitting together in restaurants, each gazing vacantly into the middle distance as he or she brays into a phone, or of people unashamedly texting away in the midst of social gatherings or, even more scandalously, during movies, the screen’s glow distracting everyone nearby. (A friend recently witnessed a scuffle between a compulsive texter and another moviegoer, who in a paroxysm of irritation snatched the woman’s phone from her.) Yet more dramatic evidence of the growing tension between electronic solipsism in public spaces can be found in the ever more common phenomenon of the stranger with the headset, chattering blithely about her irritable bowel as she elbows past you at the supermarket meat counter, or—even more appallingly—the cellphone conversation floating out of a bathroom stall, punctuated by the unmistakable plop of a bowel movement in progress. (Is there a surer sign that Western civilization is in its terminal stages?)
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badbunny: While I was reading this article I pulled out a nose hair nearly an inch long.
crataegus: That is infinitely more interesting than sictransitgloriamundism masquerading as a call for perspective.
FoolProof: Say what?
Dyskolos: He said --- Gloria got sick on the bus on her way to guardianship.
AB: ROFL
crataegus: I was going to post a rant about it, but basically, this guy is as much of a new media jagoff as Jarvis. He's put a chip in his front door trying to toss a stone across the street. He angers me, but everything does these days, I guess.  
 
tl;dr  
GET OFF MY LAWN
Dyskolos: /me reaches in the cooler, pulls out a CB and offers one to Crat  
 
A man needs sustenance if he wants to keep those damned "techno-media pundits qua cultural cognoscenti" offa his expensive St. Augustine lawn.
FoolProof: I think they can all fzck themselves with a big rubber dildo with the words NOBODY CARES emblazoned on the side.
AB: You're not alone; this article makes me a little mad, too.
LinusMines: You'd think these guys would find a healthy middle ground instead of  
 
 
 
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FoolProof: People don't want to read about healthy middle grounds.
AB: Do not listen to the fooper robot; he is malfunctioning.  
 
People LOOOOVE reading about healthy middle grounds!
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LinusMines: Follow-up (True/Slant)
Tangentially related
Dyskolos:
Cultural insecurity begets its linguistic doppelgänger. The same is true of technical advance. In a world of Facebook, MySpace, and Twitter (not to mention texting), pithy allusion substitutes for exposition. Where once the Internet seemed an opportunity for unrestricted communication, the increasingly commercial bias of the medium—"I am what I buy"—brings impoverishment of its own. My children observe of their own generation that the communicative shorthand of their hardware has begun to seep into communication itself: "people talk like texts."