Phoning it in

For about six-odd millenia, human behaviour has more or less baffled us semimythical coyotes.

It is September. A neoconservative prime minister has his, ummm, fully transparent mitts, fully wrapped around the sooty levers of federal power, manipulatin' dog-knows-what with 'em. Summer's green leaves are beginning to turn colour. And perhaps most foreboding of all, our medicinal dark chocolate stash is damn near empty. We are necessarily forced toward the philosophical. You know -- cogitatin' on the big unanswerable questions.

Take the ever-thinner smartphone. Now so impossibly thin that it cannot spoil the drape of that summerweight silk Italian suit or Chanel shift that every smartphone owner wears. Because you can afford to own those, even after you sign your soul over to Satan, who administers all of the more serious phone data plans. I digress. Oopsy.

Nude, the latest devices would dance comfortably beneath a ten millimetre high limbo bar. Ummm, so, basically, so thin and delicate that many of the fone phashionistas (at least the ones on the Route 14 bus...) feel an urgent need to wrap their statusy, ever-so-svelte electronic fetishes in even fetishier stretchy rubber slipcases. Roots' f'rinstance, clocks in at three millimetres.

Since most of these elegant devices apparently now barely power themselves through an average working day before collapsing in an anorexic puddle of melted lithium ions somewhere just slightly south of your early afternoon Starbux break, would not that extra three millimetres you're gonna add to the thing anyway not be better dedicated to, say, battery space? Just askin'.

And I've also been lately pondering: why lately am I so attracted to the comfort of hot soup? And if I and my similarly disgraceful friends make off to a Chinatown eatery to demolish huge bowls of soup, are we guilty of wonton destruction?

Just askin' the big questions... it's what us coyotes do right now.

(Flickr image by Quosquos, licensed under Creative Commons)


Zoom said...

You're talking about me, aren't you? I'm a #14-riding, iPhone-playing, rubber-case-wearing kinda person. I know I don't dress the part, but I'm saving up for a three-piece silk Chanel shift.

coyote said...

I would never cast such aspersions upon your person, ma'am. I think I must've been picturing some other #14-riding, iPhone-playing, rubber-case-wearing kinda person...

Milan said...

What would greatly improve my life is a smartphone with fold-out prongs that can be plugged directly into the wall.

Having to carry around a $40 charger is a big pain, as is replacing them when they get lost.

coyote said...

You raise an interesting engineering challenge, sir.

This season's best smartphones are nine mm and minor change thick, while non-polarized plug blades (the narrow ones) are 'bout eleven and a half mm wide.

It would take some très tricky hinges. Or maybe something quantum. Not that us coyotes know diddley-squat about quantums, except that they're likely not edible, and arguably do not taste anything like dark chocolate...

coyote said...

Ummm or cats. Even ones named Schrödinger.