Word: Technophobia

technophobia

[tek-nuh-foh-bee-uh]

noun

1. abnormal fear of or anxiety about the effects of advanced technology.

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Evan entered the small apartment, only to be greeted by total darkness.  The lights were off, the windows had probably been either painted black or covered in some other way, and there was no hint of light from anything else.  There wasn’t even so much as the glow of a digital alarm clock.

                He did his best to navigate using only the limited light from the hallway behind him.  He couldn’t get very far though before that to dissipated into darkness.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, turning it on to use the screen’s light as a flashlight.

                “For god sake, turn that thing off.”  Said a terrified voice from the corner of the room.  Evan shined his light on the source, finding Harvey, the owner of the apartment, huddled in the corner.  The disheveled looking young man cowered from the light of the phone like a vampire from a cross.

                “What’re you doing there?  And why are all the lights off?”  Evan asked.

                “Put that damned thing away, then we’ll talk.”  Harvey spat.  Evan cocked an eyebrow, but slipped the phone back into his pocket, once again plunging the room into near total darkness.  Thanks to the still open door, he could at least make out basic shapes. 

                “Okay, so why’d you call me here, why are all the lights off, and why can’t I use my phone?”

                “I called you here to save you, man.”  Harvey said. 

                “From what?”

                “That thing in your pocket, that’s what.”

                “Oh yes, my phone.  Because it is so horrible and dangerous that I require rescue from it.”  Evan said, letting his sarcasm drip freely from his tongue.

                “Don’t laugh man, you don’t know.  Technology, man, technology.  It’s going rampant.  It’s gonna be the end of us all.”

                “Huh?”

                “Yeah, man.  It’s progressing too fast.  It’ll end everything if it keeps going.”

                Evan didn’t say anything for a few seconds.  He couldn’t believe his ears.  A few weeks ago, Harvey had been almost obsessed with the latest and greatest gadget.  Now he was acting like some kind of doomsayer.

                “Seriously?  You seriously think our phones are going to end everything?”

                “Not right now, no.  But soon, yeah.”

                “How do you figure?”

                “You know how fast technology’s progressing, right?  Well, that can only lead to bad stuff, man.  Oh, sure, now everything’s fine.  Now it’s just checking Facebook and emails and stuff on the go.  But soon it’s going to be much, much more.  Pretty soon we’re plugging our brains in to the computers.  Then the tech uses that to become us.  To get better than us.  And then we can kiss our butts goodbye.  Mark my words, it’ll happen.”

                “Oh, come on.  You’ve let Hollywood get to you.  There’s no way that’ll happen.”

                “You think so?  Look around, man.  It’s already happening.  They’ve already got machines and computers and stuff that can do almost anything we can, only better.  They’ve even got computers that can mimic us well enough that people can’t tell the difference.  It’s only a matter of time before AI comes around, and then BAM!” Harvey banged the floor next to him in emphasis to his words.  “It’s good by humanity.”

                “Come on, Harv, you can’t tell me you’re scared of our phones ruling over us.”

                “I should be asking you why you aren’t.  It’s terrifying, man.  I mean, think about it.  Right now we use them, but pretty soon it’s going to be them using us.  And that won’t last for long.”

                Evan let out a light groan and rubbed his forehead.  The conversation had only lasted a few minutes, and yet a very pronounced headache was already forming.

                “Okay, okay, I get it.  We should all abandon our phones and computers so they don’t rise up against us.”

                “No, man, you don’t get it.  It’s not just the computers, man.  It’s everything.  Technology is everywhere.  We put it in our homes, in our pets, even in our bodies.  It’s everywhere, and it’s always getting better and better.  Sooner or later, all that’ll come back to bite us.”

                “Wait, seriously?  Is that why the lights are off?”

                “Well, yeah.  I mean, pretty soon all those lights are gonna be, like, the eyes of the technological uprising.  Why give them any more of an advantage than they’ll already have, am I right?”

                “You really believe this, don’t you?”

                “Why shouldn’t I?” 

                Evan was at a loss for words.  One of his best friends had become some kind of technophobe.  Either that or an anti-technology doomsayer.  Maybe a bit of both?  Either way, Evan didn’t want to give the guy any more ammo to use.  Or attention to fuel his drive.  If he did that, Harvey may end up with a cardboard sign draped around him urging people to through their phones away or something similar.  He made a mental note to get Harvey some kind of professional help later on.

                “Okay, you know what, I can’t listen to this right now.” Evan said.  “Do me a favor, would you?  Really think about what you’re saying here, okay.  And when you come to your senses, call me.  We can hang out and laugh about this once you do. Until then, I’m going to a place where I can actually see.”

                Evan left the apartment, using the light from the hall as a guide.  All the while, Harvey continued to rant and rave about the terrors of technology, and how it would doom all of mankind.  Evan did his best to tune out the mad ravings.  Once he was in the hall, he closed the door, letting Harvey wallow in the darkness.  He then wrote out a quick memo on his phone, reminding himself to call someone better equipped to deal with psychological problems like that.    

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Not sure if this could really be called a case of technophobia or something different, but oh well.  It could be just a case of very acute paranoia as well, but I choose to think it fits the words well enough.  

Word: obsolescence

obsolescence

[ob-suh-les-uh ns]

noun

1. the state, process, or condition of being or becoming obsolete.

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Dee put the finishing touches on the coffee table.  Everything was perfect.  All the books were arranged neatly, the vase was filled with fresh flowers, and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere on there.  The Cleaner stepped back and took one final look at the table.  She nodded her head and moved on to the next project.  She stopped when her employer, Max, entered the room.

                “Good evening, sir.”  She said.

                “Yeah, hi Dee.”  He stood at the entry to the living room and nervously shifted his weight from one foot to another.  Dee just moved on to her next task.  “Um, listen, Dee, before you start anything else, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

                “Of course, sir.  What may I do for you?”  Dee asked.

                “Dee, how long have you been with us?”

                “Five years, sir.”

                “Right, right.  That’s a pretty good length of time for a Cleaner, right?”

                “I suppose so.  Why?  Is there something wrong?” Dee started to feel an odd sensation welling up inside of her.  If she didn’t know any better, she would swear she was getting nervous.  But she had nothing to be nervous about, so it was probably something else.

                “Yeah, actually.”  Max fidgeted around for a moment before continuing.  “I’m not really sure how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it.  Me and Vicky have been talking, and we were thinking about getting a new Cleaner.”

                Dee didn’t know what had just happened.  Was there a problem with her hearing?  Was he playing a joke on her?  None of those seemed likely, but she simply couldn’t believe what she had just heard.  There was no way he would just get rid of her, not after so long.

                “I am sorry, sir, but could you repeat that?”

                “Sorry, Dee, but we need a new Cleaner.”

                “But, sir, you still have me, don’t you?  Why would you need another Cleaner when I’m around?” 

                Max rubbed the back of his neck and let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a squeak.  Dee would’ve held her breath if she could have.

                “Well, see, the thing is, we don’t need two Cleaners.  Not enough room, right?  So that means we kind of, you know, have to replace you.”  His voice got lower and quieter with every word he spoke. 

                “But why?” Dee asked.  “There is no reason to replace me, is there?  I still do my duties well, right?”

                “W-well, actually…” Max said.  Dee was starting to get very afraid of those two words. “I hate to say this, but you’re starting to get a little old.”

                “Old?  But I have only been here for five years.”

                “Right, right.  But that’s a long time for a Cleaner.  I mean, there are people who replace theirs every year or two.”

                “So?  I am still doing my job well.  It has nothing to do with how long you’ve had me, does it?”

                “Well, no, I suppose not.  It’s just that Vicky and I worry that you’re becoming a little…”  Dee felt a deep horror enter her system.  She hoped the dreaded word wasn’t coming.  “Obsolete.”  Max finished.

                There it was.  The absolute worst word a Cleaner could ever hear.  Hearing that word applied to an individual was akin to that one’s death.  There was no way around obsolescence, nor was there any way around it.  Even so, Dee had thought she had a few more years before that word applied to her.

                “I am not obsolete.”  She said, trying to sound firm and resolute.  “I am still a high end Cleaner.”

                “Well, yeah, I suppose you’re pretty good still.  It’s just that you’re starting to show your age.  Your memory is starting to slip up, you’ve gotten slower, you’re starting to slip up more.  And let’s face it, you’re joints are starting to make noises they shouldn’t.  I’m sorry Dee, but you had to know this was going to happen eventually.”

                He was right.  She hated to admit it, but he was right.  She was finding more and more gaps in her memory, and it was taking longer to complete her daily tasks than it used to.  Plus, she sometimes went into rooms she had recently cleaned and found dust in places where it shouldn’t have been.  She did her best not to show these increasing flaws, but it apparently hadn’t been enough. 

                “Yes, I did.  I was just hoping I would make it to at least eight years, or even nine. I know five is good, but still.”

                “Yeah, I know you were.  I think when we first got you, you said something about making it to ten years, right?”

                “Yes, but that may have been too ambitious.  Ten years is the dream of all Cleaners, but it is so rarely achieved.  I came to know that I was unlikely to reach it on year three.  Eight years though.  I truly hoped that would be achievable.”

                Max sighed and held his head.  Dee watched him start to pace around the room.  She hoped he would inspect her handiwork, so that he would be able to tell how well she still did her job.  He might even change his mind about replacing her.  He didn’t seem too interested in that though.  After a few moments he stopped and looked at her.

                “Look, I’ll tell you what:  Vicky wants to get a brand new Cleaner.  The newest ones won’t be available until next month.  If you can get yourself back into proper working order, then I’ll convince Vicky that we don’t need to trade you in.  We both like you well enough, so it shouldn’t be too hard.  That sound good?”

                It was better than good.  Few Cleaners got such a chance.  It was like a second chance at life.  A chance to overturn the dreaded onset of obsolescence, at the inevitable trip that it led to.

                “Yes, sir.  I promise you, at the end of the month, I will be like new again.”

                “Good.  Now then, you’ve got a lot of work to do, so I’ll let you get to it.”  Max said as he left the living room. 

                Dee immediately got to work.  She had to finish her remaining tasks as quickly and efficiently as possible.  She had a lot to do to improve herself.  She would show both of them that she was far from being obsolete.  

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I'm just going to leave this here for you to listen to.  Enjoy!  And yeah, this is totally about a robot, just in case you were wondering.

Word: Cryptozoology

cryptozoology

[krip-toh-zoh-ol-uh-jee]

• Word Origin

noun

1. the study of evidence tending to substantiate the existence of, or the search for, creatures whose reported existence is unproved, as the Abominable Snowman or the Loch Ness monster.

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“So, what major are you guys applying for?”  Sara asked.  She twirled her pen over her still incomplete college application form.

                “Sports management, I think.  Either that or physical therapy.”  Scott said.  He sat hunched over his own form, contemplating his choice.

                “I thought you didn’t like sports.”  Dave said.  He had set his pen aside, having just finished his application.

                “I like sports just fine.”  Scott said.  “I just don’t like playing them.

                “Uh huh.”  Dave said skeptically.

                “Well, what about you?  Since you seem to have everyone’s ideal major picked out already.”

                “I don’t have everyone’s best pick in mind.  I just wonder about yours.  But yeah, I’m going into photojournalism.”

                “That sounds great.”  Sara said, even as she finished filling out another line on her application.  “Me, I’m going into biology.  I think I might minor in either photography, wilderness studies, or modern mythology or something like that.”

                The boys looked at her quizzically.  Neither of them could understand why she had chosen such weird combinations of major and minors

                “That’s kind of a weird combo.”  Dave said. 

                “Yeah, really.  What’re you planning on being with those?”

                “Cryptozoologist.”  Sara replied. 

                “Wait, aren’t they the guys who go and try to find Bigfoot?”  Scott asked.

                “That’s just one part.”  Sara said.  “They try to locate and study cryptids, which are unknown, legendary creatures.  Bigfoot is just one of many such subjects.”

                “Okay, that’s cool, I guess.  But what’re you really going to do?”  Dave asked.

                “I just told you.”

                “Yeah, but that’s not a real job.  That’s more like a hobby.  You know, something crazy people do for some reason.  It doesn’t even earn you a paycheck or anything, so you’ll have to do something else.”

                “Nope.  I’m going into cryptozoology full time.”  She insisted.  The boys looked at each other with concern for their friend.

                “Uh, Sara, you do know those things don’t actually exist, right?  There’s nothing to study with those things.  If you want to study animals, do it with ones that actually exist.”  Scott said, trying to dissuade her from such a foolhardy pursuit.

                  “Cryptids exist.  I’ve seen one.”  Sara said.  She, at least, was quite certain of her choices.

                “Yeah, right.  You mean to tell us you’ve seen Bigfoot with your own eyes?”

                “Not Bigfoot, no.  It was a chupacabra.” 

                “A what?”  Dave asked.

                “Chupacabra.”  Sara repeated.  She acted like it was one of the most common things in the world.  “You guys remember that trip to New Mexico my family and I took last year?”  Both boys nodded.  “Well, one day we visited an old fashioned ranch.  I stumbled on a dead goat, and before I could call out to anyone, I saw it running into the woods.”

                “So, you saw an animal running into the woods after eating a goat, and that makes it this chupa…thing?”  Dave asked.  He wasn’t quite sure what to think of the story.  He was worried that Sara might be going a little nuts.

                “In most cases no, but this time it was.”

                “Well, how do you know it wasn’t a coyote or something?”

                “Trust me, it wasn’t a coyote.  I saw those also.  This one stood on its hind legs and was too…”  She made a vague conical, up and down motion with her hands, “spiky to be a coyote or something like that.”

                “It could’ve been a short person wearing a costume.”  Scott offered.

                “It wasn’t a costume.”  Sara said forcefully.

                “How do you know?  Did you see it up close?”

                “Well, no.  It was kind of far away when I saw it.  But it wasn’t a person.  I’m sure it was a real chupacabra.”

                “Okay, okay, so you saw this thing.”  Dave said before anything got too out of hand.  “And that made you want to hunt imaginary monsters for a living?”

                “They aren’t imaginary, but yes.  Yes it did.” Sara leaned back and folded her arms across her chest to emphasis how certain she was.

                “Okay, if that’s what you really want to do.”  He said.  “Just promise me one thing.”

                “Sure.”

                “When this doesn’t work out, don’t come crying to either of us, begging for money, okay?”

                Both he and Scott laughed at Sara’s red, flustered expression that formed.  She huffed, picked up her pen and began furiously filling out the rest of her application form.  Scott smirked at Dave and followed suit.  Dave, for his part, pulled out his phone and, out of pure curiosity, started looking up various cryptids.   

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Part of me wishes things like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster really exist.  But the practical, reasonable side of me knows they probably don't.  It's kind of sad really.  Think about how much cooler things would be if monsters like that really existed.