There's plenty of web activity regarding the 118800 pricks making money by selling our privacy, so I won't say any more than I have already on that specific subject.
I've spent a while this morning reading what others have said about the above, and I've been surprised by a small number of young individuals who are demonstrating what I believe is a very mature reaction to the almost total commoditization of our free time by one foul means or another.
The abuse of social networks, the email system, landline telephones and now the cellphone networks were quoted as a good reason for leaving their phone at home, or as I did for many years treat it a facility that only they could use and kept it switched-off quite a lot of the time, and only turning it on to make a call, before returning it to 'dormant'.
The rationale for this is: 'that if the message is important, then the person will find some way of contacting me'.
I first heard those words - almost verbatim - many years ago in my late teens, when a friend (he knows who he is) related to me an incident from his first term at university.
Near the end of term, a friendly psychology lecturer had said to him: 'Mr X, do you realize that for the whole term, you haven't checked your mailbox once, and that it contains many unopened and unanswered items?' To which Mr. X had given the reply I quoted above.
His approach apparently interested the lecturer so much that Mr. X was invited to take part in a series of tests to determine his personality 'type'. The result? - he was pronounced a 'stable extrovert'.
Over a long number of years, I've been criticised by my long-term girlfriend for turning off my mobile, and I've tried to explain that I don't regard it in the same way that she did hers. That it was a facility for 'me' and only 'me', was a concept that was entirely alien to her. Asking her to consider if her call was important, or could wait, met with blank stares.
My short affair with June was accompanied with waking up to text messages from her - every morning - proclaiming her love and devotion for me. It's great that someone loves you, but I was slowly suffocating with her continued presence - even though she wasn't physically here in the room - all because of the telephone!
My friend's (Mr. X) experience, and the wisdom of his action long ago have stuck with me, and in the large part I've adhered to the philosophy, but, not answering all of the time is not an option. Now, instead of getting annoyed and frustrated by the 'ghost' telephone calls and the unending requests to speak to 'Mr. Harper' I have started to try and look upon the interruptions as a reminder to leave my chair and walk about from time-to-time - which I know is good for me.
There is also the fun of answering abruptly: 'No, you can't!' when requested by the caller: 'Can I speak to Mr. Harper?' This is usually met with surprise by the poor call-centre worker, who is only able to deal with replies that are on the screen in front of her. By the time she recovers, I've already put the phone down.
Well, that's rant #1 over with - Already the week looks better!
My love to you all, aren't you glad I prefer not to send text messages?