Dialectics: Technology and Dependence

I can’t remember the last time I went to the library to check out books for a project. In middle school, when there was a course on researching techniques and checking the credibility of your source, the section on selecting books was useful. Now, the idea of combing through a long article without a find key seems tedious. For pleasure and studying literature, books are still the way to go. But selecting sources through the internet is a quicker, more reliable way of finding what you’re looking for… if you’re willing to sift through a few sites who claim that the Indian caste system was a result of Miley Cyrus’ (terrible) music.
I use the internet for the majority of my studies, and I’ve learned to sift through the junk that comes with the freedom to upload. However useful of a tool it may be, it comes with a cost: our time. Now that computers can get us information with a click, making researching faster than ever before, people want to find other things to do with their time. So computers are being made sleeker, quicker, and equipped to do more things on the internet to entice people to stay online. We’ve found ourselves communicating through our desktops (and phones and laptops) instead of face to face. When more stuff gets done, we find more to do. And mostly likely, we’re finding our entertainment on the internet.
Isn’t it ironic that we’re saving time, just to spend it with the object that gave us the extra minutes in the first place? That we’re dependent on the thing that frees us? Shouldn’t we spend the time we would have been researching without the internet with our families and enjoy the easiness technology brings?
We are also being trained to crave instant gratification. No longer are we tortured by that fact we can’t remember, there’s Google for that. Want to hear a song? Youtube it. We have become so reliant on the search engine that remembering information for ourselves is a nicety except in school and on game shows. And as internet is quickly being adapted to phones, we can take our computers anywhere. We are training ourselves to feel unprepared and incapable without a keyboard under our fingers and only our brains to rely on.
Of course, there are other ways we are dependent on technology. We use cars to get everywhere, and as a result the idea of walking a mile is met with a sigh worthy of a martyr. We use cell phones, and are always connected, so your workplace becomes portable on vacation, and you can use a tool of communication as an excuse to avoid conversations around you. It’s strange to think that we’re taking advantage of our time to further isolate ourselves in artificial interaction.
It’s interesting to think that we are becoming so attached to machines. If we could just step back for a moment and turn off the computer after our jobs are done, I think we’d find ourselves more relaxed because we would finally stop taking our breaks and working in the same place… the computer chair.

Blogging around with Pat and Alex!

Pat: Cathedral and Intimacy

Pat's post centered around the concept of intimacy (and the lack of it) in the short story Cathedral. He talked about the lack of names in the story and explores the relationships with the wife in the story.

Although a lot of people have touched on this intimacy topic in their blogs, I found the way you described it to be really accurate and capture the 'void' that Carver paints into the story. You made a really good point when you said that the wife was almost like an axis that her husband and ex-employer revolve around. She makes intimacy apparent both in its presence (with Robert) and in its absence (with her husband). The void of intimacy really made the story, and you did a great job of explaining why.

Alex: The Lie that Wasn't a Lie

Alex's blog entry explored the very ending of the book, when Marlow met the Intended. Her post went through her original interpretation of Marlow's 'lie', and what made her change her mind.

Ok, I had so much trouble finding someone who didn't agree that 'the horror' wasn't the intended. I didn't believe that she was the force behind Kurtz's destruction and evil either. I can't imagine that someone he loved (and the fact that he loved her could also be debated) could inspire such hatred and manipulation is hard for me to comprehend. However, this left me with no concrete idea of what this Intended meant to Kurtz. Your idea makes so much sense! I think that Kurtz, in his last moments, was enlightened to 'the horror' of the havoc he wrecked on the people of the Congo. In that sense, he wasn't referring to his Intended at all. But when Marlow comforts her and convinces her that she was on Kurtz's last breath, he brings out another truth, which you pointed out- he may have been disgusted with the way he manipulated a girl's heart as well.

Best of Week: What's in a name?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet".
~Romeo and Juliet

What Juliet says may be true, but you still have to call it something. It has to be distinguished from "the flower" or "the plant".

In class we discussed the idea of bestowing names to demonstrate intimacy. In "Cathedral", we noticed that the wife and husband never refer to each other by name. Actually, we don't find out either of their names during the course of the story. However, both (the wife especially) refer t0 the blind man often by his name, Robert. I took this to mean that the relationships in the story were primarily represented by the use of a person's name.

This is an interesting way to show intimacy in a story, because although the wife and husband never have to say anything, the tension is apparent and is demonstrated by what they omit. The husband talks of how he waited to hear his wife mention him in her history, yet she didn't talk about how they met or anything like that, and he wasn't reassured that she cared for him. Their relationship is very strained- she didn't seem to care if he loved her or not, as long as he respected her friend, and they seemed almost to be polite strangers. It's certain that by the end of the story the husband and wife were closer to Robert than they had been to each other in a long time.

Names represent attention and care in this story, but I'm sure the principle works in other situations as well. Think about how often you use someone's name when you talk to them or ask them for something. It shows you're focused on them and the conversation you're having. Although I'm not suggesting this story is meant to be advice on how to treat someone, it's definitely an interesting thought- could your use of a name convince someone they're loved?

And if it did work that way, couldn't a lot of problems and doubts be solved?