flâneur

The Object I'm Holding Is Not a Phone

recordsofthought.com · 385 words · saved by 1 readers

I started writing this on my phone, and immediately put it down. Something about the glass doesn’t sit well on my fingers. A phrase from Brett Victor has rattled around my head for the past couple years. He wrote on the perils of pictures under glass, the common interface for the phone. “It's a Novocaine drip to the wrist.” he said. Numbing, disconnected. By now, that novocaine has turned to nicotine. The Casper Glow (Source) Sensations evoke emotions. Meaning different materials are gateways to a broader range of feelings. We’ve been handcuffed to our glass phones, to a narrow sensation. They aren't just mentally consuming, they're limiting our sensory palette. Those that choose an alternative open themselves up to more of the reality around us. I carry in my pocket a USB, I hold it alongside my keys. Metal. Anodized aluminum. Tumbled and frosted plastic. Not smoothed, but worn. Worn in life. Broader sensations, more emotions. Norm's Keys feat. Classic & Transport Past Potential Futur

I started writing this on my phone, and immediately put it down. Something about the glass doesn’t sit well on my fingers. A phrase from Brett Victor has rattled around my head for the past couple years. He wrote on the perils of pictures under glass, the common interface for the phone. “It's a Novocaine drip to the wrist.” he said. Numbing, disconnected. By now, that novocaine has turned to nicotine. The Casper Glow (Source) Sensations evoke emotions. Meaning different materials are gateways to a broader range of feelings. We’ve been handcuffed to our glass phones, to a narrow sensation.…

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