Some Strange Things Been Happenin' to Me: The iPad and the Compartments of Our Lives

Isn't it interesting, how the iPad added the whole multi-functionality factor? Before the iPad, we were pretty bedazzled by just reading lots of books in one square thing. With the iPad, we do that and lots of other stuff. We work, we play, we lounge, we YouTube, we blog... I remember the first commercial I ever saw for the iPhone. It featured a woman walking down the street, listening to a poppy tune and enjoying it, when suddenly the tune stopped and she got a call from a friend. Boom. The iPhone: An iPod … AND a cell phone! My response was twofold: I thought it was ridiculous (since when were “Pimp My Ride” maneuvers—so now your car is transportation AND a keg AND a crib AND et cetera— viable for iPods?) and I thought it was horrifying because I didn’t want Simon and Garfunkel to be interrupted by some guy who wants me to answer a survey or even one of my best friends. Simon and Garfunkel were much more important. Little did I know that I would end up owning an iPhone (a gift), and that I would have to face those unwelcome interruptions many times.

[Woody thought technology was stupid, too. He was in for a 90-minute, two-sequel surprise.]

So we seem to love when we can cram so many compartments of our lives into one single object. At least that’s what Steve Jobs has catered to with the iPa,d, and all his other iProducts (iCreations).

But wasn’t the computer itself the beginning of this trend? Haruki Murakami, the Japanese writer (and runner) makes a remark about this in his book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, stating why, even now, he prefers to use MD players to iPods when jogging:

“A lot of runners now use iPods, but I prefer the MD player I’m used to. It’s a little bigger than an iPod and can’t hold nearly as much data, but it works for me. At this point I don’t want to mix music and computers. Just like it’s not good to mix friends and work, and sex.” (14)

At this point I don’t want to mix music and computers. Hmm. Must be some of that Oriental meditational subconscious.

I think this has already been mentioned before, so I will reiterate: what was so great about the book in the first place was that it was separated from life. You could breathe from it. With the e-readers we still had that. But now the iPad wants to integrate the book with everything. Is this bad, or is this good? To use a phrase from Thomas Merton, how much of our “compartmentalized being” is further compartmentalized when we add all our little compartments to one object—and how much is it integrated? Is there such a thing as the fully integrated human being? …

Ok, I don’t know how I got there.

I just know that when I sit down to read What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, I sit down to read What I Talk About When I Talk About Running—and not do that while I work on my English paper on “Pages” and on an economics spreadsheet on “Numbers” (I do not take an economics class, thank you). And I don’t want those things to be a click away. I want to be with Murakami and his words. I’m not saying that the iPad or any of the others destroy this. I’m just… blogging.

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This was originally a response to Chris Langer's previous post. It was when it kept expanding that I decided to make it a new entry of its own. But as it is, I still consider it an adjunct to his "initiation" post.