Invention is smart people creating new things, and technology is other people screwing with them in ways the inventor never imagined. For example: vacuum cleaners.
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"It's probably best if you don't watch what happens next."
The whole point of technology is letting people use things they could never understand. It's why Fox News has a website, instead of a tree people avoid because the residents throw shit at everyone. The upside is that millions of users can discover functions the inventor never imagined, and we live in a world where someone imagined and invented a holster so that people could have sex with their iPads. Possibly to make changing the vacuum bag less disgusting.
Also a great way for Apple fanboys to watch the yearly keynote.
Many other technologies you use every day have hidden bonus functions.
6Voice Mail Age Check
We all have a physical age, a mental age, a legal age, and a technological age. For example: I'm 36, but I spent an hour this morning practicing tricks with a butterfly knife-style bottle opener, with beers I was legally allowed to buy, while listening to a dance remix of the original F-Zero. That's so many different combinations of old and young, the police are inquiring if I hosted any '80s children's programming.
Our technological age is important. When you're young, you want to survive in a world full of interesting tools, and learn accordingly. When you're old, you wish everyone would just stop doing so much, and vote accordingly. There's a definite switch where people limp out of the march of progress to sit on a lawn chair shouting at the cyborgs speeding past.
"I just want to murder trees any time anyone sends me anything, is that too much to ask?"
It's silicon dating, which doesn't mean going out with wipe-clean synthetic partners.
"Aw yeah, baby, I know you're checking out my bone action."
Carbon dating tells you when something stopped absorbing carbon-14, which is when it organically died. Silicon dating tells you when someone stopped learning about new machines, which is when they technologically died. The binary test for this technoperosis is voice mail. For the technold, it's a useful service; for the cyberyoung, it's older and lamer than the prefix "cyber-." It's like sending a message on a carrier brontosaurus: not just clumsy and slow, but based on serious mistakes from the past. Accessing voice mail means stopping what you were doing, dialing up a number, and hammering buttons in the hope that the robovoice will let you get into your messages faster this time. And then listening to it again to work out the bits you missed, because recording messy audio when you're holding a keyboard connected to a digital transmitter is a dick move.
"Welp, let me just bog you down with a bunch of platitudes while you impatiently wait to find out what this interruption is about, then I guess I'll slur the vital phone number so you have to listen to it all again, yup."
Using a portable computer, to access a microwave network, to get to a touch-tone menu, to access a voice recording? That's hitting your handset with a devolution ray. It's only one step from dipping your iPhone in bison blood to scrape out a cave painting, which would be the only noise more excruciatingly drawn out for the phone's user.
5Facebook External Intelligence Test
We recently learned that Facebook has been conducting psychological experiments on people, but that shouldn't be a surprise, because that's what we've been using it for all this time. If you ask someone "Are you an idiot?" they'll lie. If you approve their friend request, they'll tell you without being asked.
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"That person I met at the bus stop is sure to like Clown Farm Organ Harvesting Wars!"
You can't walk up to your family with specialized tests to see if they're worth talking to unless you're in Scientology. (And if you are, forget the jokes, run -- not a joke, run run run.) Your Facebook feed is an unfiltered view into your friends' and family's intelligence and prejudices. Learning about their awfulness at large family events is too late. When a great-aunt starts explaining her theory of racial superiority, you can do nothing but wince. Forewarned, you can steer the conversation away, sit somewhere else, or open the conversation by describing how you hired a really great troupe of multinational buffet staff who'll be out later to show off their knife collection.
"We're from those countries you talked about, and cutting up flesh, then disposing of it, is our entire job."
You can't avoid your family, but after a few posts, you know which relatives can be tuned out faster than others, which are too keen about babysitting on religious holidays, and whose financial advice should be taken with a dehydrated Pacific Ocean of salt.