Final Draft/Death of the Salesman

Okay, kids---1,278 final word count. Been to the Writing Center once, but will have them proof it one more time for fun.

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Death of the Salesman

“you have your laptop in the *office*? eww gross lol”

“omg did you see that? That was crazy lol”

“idk my bff Rose”

Perhaps, your friends are wittier than mine. However, the above characters are not jibberish, but are letters derived from the English language and used in actual text messages that I have received. These messages are not indicative of the fact that the median age of my social circle is 30 years of age or that the average number of children per family is 0.9---not to mention 1.3 dogs per capita.

Perhaps, you became one of Ashton Kutcher’s followers when he engaged in a battle against the venerable media conglomerate, CNN, to be the first to garner a million followers on Twitter. If so, you may also remember that Kutcher was victorious in his virtual quest. Kutcher, 1. Mankind, 0.

Perhaps, you remember tinny answering machines utilizing cassette tapes stating that the Smith family was not home right now, but would call you back as soon as they got home. Or, perhaps, one reminisces about dinner trays arranged around the television-on-wheels to watch “The Twilight Zone.” Maybe one can faintly remember when eight-track players were once luxuries in automobiles or when Apple’s original moniker was Macintosh. And, yes, children, EasyMac is not the greatest invention since sliced bread.

As opposed to bridging the divide between strangers, technology has forced us to compartmentalize all of our thoughts into 140 character “tweets,” status updates on Facebook or drawing from a collection of “emoticons” to accurately express our emotions on MySpace. The primary issue at stake is not the incorporation of technology and its many benefits in our everyday lives, but the subversive act of shunning human interaction. The digital age in which we live has removed the need for the answering machine, handwritten letters and actual, physical---and heartfelt---human interaction. Our mailman, Jim, was a staple at our dinner table during major, non-religious holidays and always received $40 and two pairs of socks each year for Christmas. Sadly, his job has largely been replaced by the advent of emails and text messages. The Encyclopedia Brittanica was once sold door-to-door, but is now available now online exclusively. However, because the possibility remains that a compilation of “Greatest Hits” text messages may break onto the New York Times bestseller’s list, this possibility is exemplary of the degradation of human interaction in juxtaposition with media and its complex marriage with technology.

We live in a world where reality television show stars, such as Lauren Conrad of “Laguna Beach” and “The Hills” fame, can write a New York Times bestseller, L.A. Candy, which thereby taints the life’s work of the prestigious authors who preceded her. In addition, these authors before her would have been thrilled to have found singular success during the duration of their lives, even posthumously, let alone half of the cause celebre generated by Ms. Conrad. Her novel, the first of a series of three, tells the story of a 19-year-old teenager who moves to Hollywood and ends up as the star of her own reality show. As arduous and difficult a journey as it may have been to compose such a far-fetched story from her real life, the book remained on the bestseller’s list for two consecutive weeks. In my mind, there is no doubt that her popularity was derived from a reality television show and retained and expanded by blogs, internet fan clubs, websites and word of mouth spread via various compact mass communicative devices, such as cell phones. On MySpace, Conrad’s friends currently total 314,144, with the youngest fan being my 2-year-old niece. Note: Babies which have not yet been conceived were not included in this polling.

The internet provides a wealth of information, but it is up to the users of this technology to determine and disseminate its use and relevance, if any, of the content and context. As coined by PBS’ Frontline: Digital Nation weblog, there are two types of people living in our digital world: Digital Natives---those who have grown up in a digital culture and hyper connectivity---and Digital Immigrants, or those who are new to the changing technologies and are slow to adapt. Digital Natives, however, have been raised with the ideal that opposable thumbs were meant for texting, not sucking. Natives aged 13 to 17 average 1,742 text messages a month; 89 percent of 18- to 24-year-old Americans are online. In addition, Digital Natives aged 12 to 24 spend 4.5 hours a day viewing screen media (TV, Internet, Internet video, mobile video), excluding games.

My Mother’s experience with texting and emailing is exemplary of the daily technological struggles faced by Digital Immigrants. Having wrested with technology over the past six decades, lo and behold, my sexagenarian Mother has even begun learning to text. Similar to the angst she developed as the passenger when I was learning to drive, I feel a coronary developing as my Mother struggles to write a whopping 10-word text message, a feat which surely rivals man landing on the moon. Like a teenager, she developed the need to text message due to the increasing technological mobility adapted by her social circle. Her afternoons are now filled with “lol” and “r u going tonite?” rather than a mere phone call, a shopping excursion or a conversation over coffee, as she did sporadically with her girlfriends in the past. There is hardly a need to verbally or physically communicate with others outside of the home, when emails and text messages are deemed sufficient. However, at her age, where there is much alienation, perhaps even the smallest contact now carries a sense of meaning.

However, the elderly are not alone in their electronic communication woes. Arguably the most technologically advanced nation in the world, Japan is continually pushing the boundaries between technology, culture and lifestyle, despite the invasive nature of this interconnectivity. The Japanese coined the term hikikomori to describe socially withdrawn youth, who seclude themselves in their rooms and rely exclusively upon digital communication in order to avoid public interaction. The internet provides anonymity to these Japanese teenagers, which, in turn, provides a sense of security, yet provides a mode of self-expression, through ambiguity in a culture which values homogeneity. A majority of Japanese social networking sites, such as Mixi, are overflowing with nicknames, aliases and blurry photos. In addition, the interconnectivity between technology and our lives is growing increasingly stronger each day, which causes our backs to strain more with the advent of modern technology. A 2007 study of children's computer use found that none of the participants used a safe posture. I, myself, am slowly developing a Cro-Magnon posture, following hours spent on the computer, both for recreation and profession.

Today, we live in an age of unprecedented technological freedom. However, this freedom has resulted in an equally dynamic oppression of human interaction and, at times, sensitivity. Whereas humans craved interaction and the warmth of company before, their days are now filled with smiley faces, with or without their tongues sticking out. I am, myself, an admitted former abuser of English---guilty as charged. But, I discovered that there is no intimacy in a tweet or a text message or a status update. There is no romanticizing the loss of grammar or the lack of punctuation in these text-based exchanges, which are supposed to provide others with a brief, albeit tightly controlled, glimpse into our lives. Are these online profiles accurate portrayals of our true self? Where have the days of the milkmen and encyclopedia salesman gone?

@Reader, if you’re having your baby or getting married, I don’t want to find out on Facebook. TTYL.