8/17/09

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one person to dissolve the electronic bands which have connected him with others and to assume among the powers of the cellular network, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle him, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that he should declare the causes which impel him to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all text messages are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain annoying traits, that among these are poor grammar, incoherent thoughts, and the pursuit of endless replies. — That to secure these traits, QWERTY keyboards are instituted among cell phones, deriving their just powers from the consent of the users, — That whenever any form of communication becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new communication, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their sanity and usefulness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that methods of communication long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while text messages are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of chain letters and innocuous smilies, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute illiteracy, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such communication, and to provide new guidelines for their future sanity. — Such has been the patient sufferance of this blogger; and such is now the necessity which constrains him to alter his former systems of communication. The history of the present members of my address book is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over my attention span. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.

People refuse to call and have a thirty second conversation in lieu of seventeen two-word text messages.

People have forbidden me to simply ignore text messages without having them send follow-up messages asking what I thought of the original message.

People have refused to consider that it's not safe to text while driving and my best course of action is to pretend I never got the message in the first place.

People have sent messages that probably made sense to them but simply looked like leetspeak gibberish on my phone.

People have forwarded ignorant messages implying that I'll suffer bad luck if I don't keep the chain going.

People have endeavored to prevent me from ever reading a chapter of any book without being interrupted by a 'new message' notification.

People have forced me, under penalty of excessive per-message fees, to maintain an unlimited data plan on my phone against my will.

In every stage of these oppressions I have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms: My repeated petitions have been answered only by more text messages. A texter, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a nuisance, is unfit to be the ruler of my cell phone.

Nor have I been wanting in attentions to my cellular brethren. I have warned them from time to time of attempts by their texting to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over me. I have reminded them of the circumstances of my employment and settlement on the road. I have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and I have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. I must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our separation, and hold them, as I hold the rest of mankind, enemies in texting, in voice friends.

I, therefore, the representative of the Fenian Godfather Institute, in general congress, assembled, appealing to the supreme judge of the world for the rectitude of my intentions, do, in the name, and by authority of the good people of the institute, solemnly publish and declare, that my cell phone is, and of right ought to be a free and independent device, that I am absolved from all allegiance to the senders of texts, and that all compulsory connection between them and me, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as a free and independent device, my phone has full power to delete messages, disable notifications, limit replies, establish guidelines, and to do all other acts and things which independent cell phones may of right do. — And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, I pledge to my valued blog readers my life, my fortune, and my sacred honor.

- Fenian Godfather

Okay, that may have been a bit excessive, but seriously. Three messages, man. Beyond that, a phone call is the appropriate venue. I'm getting dumber with every 'U' in place of 'you' and 'R' in place of 'are.' I'm taking a stand. Three messages and I'm out. Done.

The trip from Pennsylvania to South Carolina was a little longer than I had realized, so my dispatch did indeed have to permit me time to take a ten hour break along the way. Since I had slept most of the day yesterday though, I decided to see about driving it straight through. Might as well get through the hills and such while the traffic was light, I thought. By the time I got to Raphine, Virginia at 2am, that was enough of that idea. I had knocked out roughly half the trip at that point. Good enough. Even if I stayed on the road and made my drop early in the morning, I would have used up almost all of my hours in doing so. Then I would have been forced to take a ten hour break anyway. By getting the break out of the way last night, I left some time on my clock after the drop this afternoon.

That drive through the hills was about as tedious as one would expect with 46,600 pounds of water in tow. Then the stretch of US-74 out of Charlotte was downright miserable. Every time it looked like I could cruise along for half a mile, three cars would cut me off and I would have to stop for another red light. The drop and hook end of things in Pageland was quick and simple though, then it was time to find somewhere to park. One truck stop in town. Cross the fingers and head over there... beauty. Got me a nice easy spot and kicked back for a while.

I was #1 on the board after I made my drop, so there was a chance that I might be going somewhere else today. Maybe? Nope. My next assignment came through a little while ago. It's one of those multi-stop engine parts deals starting tomorrow afternoon, so I guess this is home for the night. My first pickup is in Monroe, North Carolina, just across the state line from here. I didn't even pay attention to where the other stops are. I'll check it out in the morning. For now, it's Monday night, I have a parking space, plenty of food in my ample belly, 612 miles on the ledger, and a good book to read. I'm content.