The most recent technical device is constantly asking whether its User wishes to download an App or search the World Wide Web for an App. Frankly I've got no clue what an App is, nor do I really want to know what an App is. It doesn't sound in the least healthy or useful and I see yet another uncontrollable can of worms that will further collapse my sense of calm. And true there are occasions when I'm taken by a Luddite Preacher who whispers, "Throw the thing out of the window." At heart I am tempted to reckon this technical device is to me like a Shovel or a pair of Scissors or a Briggs and Stratton L Head, but the truer picture, it's not.
One way to understand the technical device would be to think of it as a
different kind of tool. Like a telephone, perhaps. It doesn't exist in
isolation in the way that a Pitchfork might. I could have a telephone, artfully
arranged, paint it pink and if I unplugged it, it wouldn't ring. Then if I
unplugged the technical device from the Internet it would become more like a
shovel. The question I guess is why can't I do that, get it over with, sever the cord. The answer, either I have an addiction to the laziness the technical
device offers to avoid thinking for myself, or I'd be lonely. Of the two
possibilities, I think addiction is closer to the mark. It's an addiction to the
community. Means I'm human.