positivenegative

lost and safe

The Ecstasy of St. Paul

Found a lost iPhone in the men’s restroom at work today.

I’m browsing text messages, contacts, e-mails trying to figure out to whom this particular piece of technology belongs to.  Facebook’s webpage appears on the tiny screen.  I see the avatar – a tiny square showcasing a silly grin, locked in perpetuity behind a life size cut-out.  Slowly, like the sun’s rays slipping over the dark edge of the earth, it dawns on me that this mobilephonecamerapokcetcomputerGPSdevicemusicplayer belongs to someone.

Emails, text messages, reminders, recently visited websites, music choices: I’ve seen all I need to form an image, an opinion of a human being I’ve probably never met.  Gospel and Christian rock populate his iTunes library; softcore pornography featuring petite, young looking Chinese females in an open Safari window, another window displaying a Google search in Mandarin.  I can guess that he is a young student, probably a few years younger than me,21 at most, judging by photos of his dorm room.  I know that he goes to the CRC (Campus Recreation Center) most weeknights at 11pm.  I know that he goes to the Pacific Grill to get lunch most days.  On odd days, he’ll come by my place of employment for food and coffee.

I have probably met him.

I am just now realizing how intimate a look I’ve had into this persons life, through the lens of his technological fetish object.  It is disturbing.  The ease with which I was able to access various portals of information regarding Bob Bobson (not their real name) is scary.

It’s unsettling to meditate upon the fact that these objects that we imbue with so much of our energy and spiritual residue, we hardly care to secure.

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