July 31, 2017
"Horrible Phone Calls I Assume I’d Have If It Weren’t for the Internet."
Nicely drawn and written visualization of the social anxiety that binds us to the internet (The New Yorker).
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To live freely in writing...
13 comments:
One phone conversation like any of those and I'd just walk in the next time I need to deal with them (which I tended to prefer anyway, before the internet). You know nobody would treat anyone like that face-to-face. More than once.
Were they supposed to be funny? I didn't see much humor.
I think you have to have social anxiety to get the humor. Obviously people don't say those things, but social anxiety makes you imagine them-and really, you don't explicitly imagine them, but you feel the emotional reaction that you'd have if people actually responded to you that way. Its illogical, but faulty wiring makes you experience those humiliating emotions anyway. Logic can help you argue with your brain to overcome it (the underlying premise of CBT) but it takes a lot of effort.
One phone conversation like any of those would be the last time I interacted with any of those businesses.
I understand that the writer is expressing their social anxiety, not presenting this as a realistic expectation. But if the internet is allowing you to indulge your pathology rather than overcome it, it is doing you no favors.
Not funny.
Social anxiety humor.
But I wonder whether the internet makes social anxiety better (by letting the anxious avoid interpersonal interactions) or actually makes it worse (by denying the anxious the repeated experience of normal polite interpersonal interactions).
My guess would be the latter.
Meanwhile Back in the Heartland Dept.
I guess it's like not knowing the right words to order a small coffee, black at Starbucks. Maybe there are no right words for that order. Maybe it will be brought up at death panels - video footage of me unable to say "grande" when I mean "small". Or is it "tall?" Or "short?" And why don't I pay extra for the Kenyan-Guatemalan mix, fracked. Am I a racist? No, I just don't see why they are fracking for coffee, the plants grow above ground last I looked. And then paying in cash when I know bistroistas can't make change - that's cruel. And tipping in crayons to make up for invading their safe space - that has to stop. And doing "Time 4 Trump" in sign language in the armchair while reading the WSJ and sipping whatever I managed to get - that's flat out dangerous. Lots of them know sign language and anyhow the compassionate leaving time committee of concern , (i.e. death panel) will convict on that in a heartbeat. Then no more heartbeat. "And don't forget to pour Starbucks, (grande) on her grave."
So everybody's gay or an asshole in NYC. We get it, New Yorker. Resurgence™
Amusante! Kinds, sorta, well, they could be. Hits some of my conceptions re: NYC.
You have to understand that the phone calls are what the socially phobic person fears and that the fears are absurd. That's the way it's intended to be funny. It succeeds. If you're thinking, are people really so awful?, you're off the intended track.
You have to understand that the phone calls are what the socially phobic person fears and that the fears are absurd.
Story of my life.
Now that I'm seeing it again (all four panels), I can see why I was thrown. For some reason, I only saw the first one earlier (maybe my browser was working much slower), and I thought "Pizza people don't have time to judge what you're saying."
Now I've seen all of it, and it's 50-50. Banks do NOT give you your balance over the phone from a human, but I can see hairdressers and restaurants getting in your grill.
I guess since I don't live that kind of NYC life it doesn't resonate with me. Besides, pixie cuts are for kids.
I want what she's having.
Actually, I want Lazlo's take on this.
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