One has to wonder where the anti-Christ will appear. There is speculation in some circles that he will reveal himself (herself?) in a more disassociated way then as a mere human being-type person.
Consider the cell phone.
An article in the NYTimes (here) describes the remaining 15 percent of the population that hasn’t been enfolded in the warm embrace of the cell phone yet. In 20 years this new technology has grown, Borg like (Blob-like, for us older types) and it looks as if it is going to take a lot more than phaser or fire extinguishers to make it all stop.
It is interesting that an entire technology has grown to encompass 85 percent of the population in a mere 20 years or so. Billions of dollars of the economy depend on it now. Sure would be cool if they made those things in this country.
But I digress.
Really, is there any more intrusive technology around? It turns normally prudent drivers into maniacs, makes us all tell our most intimate secrets to strangers in line to buy groceries, and leads to panic attacks when we forget where we put the damn thing, leading us to frantically call it and race around the house hoping to hear it ring, or twitter, or sing, or whatever idiotic ring tone it has, before the battery dies and it disappears into a nether world of lost socks, pens, lens caps and pennies.
I remember resisting. My family was among the last on our block. Only the insistance of my employer that I had to have one as a condition of employment, made me consent.
Plus my wife was starting her schooling in Logan. Driving all those winter canyon roads, “what if something happens?” she said. Nothing did, but she felt better.
So now I can be called by anyone, anywhere. I remember, during one period of family crisis, getting a phone call while wandering Deseret Industries and finally pleading that sitting on an old sofa surrounded by used books and dead toasters wasn’t working as a place to discuss that sort of stuff.
The days when I forget to take it with me are bliss. Anyone can forget, right? And then nobody can find me, or call me, or ask me questions.
Amazingly, the world still spins.