We like it, we love it, we loathe it.
I can, if I so choose, reach anyone in 2 seconds, instead of waiting for a week, maximum, for my beloved paper letter to arrive.
Since Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, and perhaps even before- see the original Stepford Wives- the terrors that can be unleashed by technology becoming too human, or taking over humanity, have steeped in our brains.
I have a bad habit of apologizing. Oh, I've tried to cover. "Suck it" works like a charm, provided you ease into it. On the first sibilant symbol of "Sorry" grin and say, "S...suck it."
It's not just to humans- I've offered apologies to: A cat who just stared at me like, "Lady, I make people clean up when I spit up a hair ball, and I make them feel like THEY coughed it up. I don't care.", the fridge, my sofa, the dog whom I thought was upset because I was upset- and he probably was, but he was remarkably forgiving about it.
So... back to technology.
It was a "normal" day. I did my thing, y'know. While getting dressed, I walked into the dresser. Because of course I did. It was remarkably stoic. I apologized anyway, because, one does, you know?
I had no idea that the last iOS update had tweaked a setting on my iPhone. Making it so that, when charging, Siri was active and lying in wait.
I had apologized to the dresser. This was dumb in and of itself. But I was not expecting to hear a plummy, disembodied voice say, "It's ok, Beth, we can still be friends." I suppose that the new neighbors above my head now probably know me as "The Screamer". I know them as what sounds like 15 sets of feet wearing clogs.
Well, I guess, if it helps, I have been frightened out of my wits. That should teach me.
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do...