The Tamagotchi was a digital pet which led to malevolent imitators. Whereas the original Tamagotchi merely required plenty of user interaction to feed it, take away it’s poop, etc., in order to keep it “alive,” the imitators required the pet’s owner to actually pay cash money in order to sustain it. Children would be traumatized by even the possibility of their pets dying and thereby would spend their allowance and then hit up their parents with hysteria. The anxiety and energy depleted in order to stave off this digital disaster was parasitic.
The male mitten crab, when infected with a certain parasite, will behave as if it is female, change it’s shape over time to appear more female (broader), and then actually care for its little parasite young as if they are mitten crab young.
It is my observation, that many modern humans, particularly females and those who are feminized, tend to their communication devices as if they are mewling infants. In addition to constantly feeding the thing memes, photos, updates on minutiae, all cries must be soothed with some sort of stroking response. Some people spoil their pets with apps for every occasion. Such persons tend to emote as if they feel sorry for me that I have no such attachment to my bare-bones cell phone, which I often conveniently “forget” to charge. I am unable to view all the wonderful photos, links, and other wonderful “gifts” they wish to give me as their way of showing me how much they care about me. When I counter that if one merely emails me these things, then I can tend to them in my comfort and leisure at a time of my choosing. However, not receiving an instant response to these instant gifts is apparently disappointing to such persons. It is impossible to tell how much of their “hurt feelings” are for themselves or in pity for me, the cold-hearted techno-deprived person that I am. Whereas, perversely, those same persons find their own computers to be unfathomable and sadistic, and may require my assistance in order to tame them, and soothe the unwilling captive with reassuring noises that no, just because the computer is cruel, it doesn’t mean that the user is “unintelligent,” or deserving of ridicule. There there.
It is a shame that these types of persons tend to be disinclined to pay me for my computer services in currency that I can actually use. Memes, photos, links, and status updates don’t actually bring me joy nor pay my bills. I must be a heartless and uncaring sort. And yet I don’t mind helping a friend, nor do I lord over them with any sort technical “superiority,” particularly since I am woefully out of touch and thereby actually have to do a little online research from time to time, and otherwise venture out on the wild and wooly internet to possibly encounter pitfalls, or obsolete instructions.
Men (and women) who use their smart phones as command and control centers for strategic war games of either the digital or actual variety are a different animal altogether. Other men have discovered that they can keep their device stored with conversation openers that cause women to make pleasure noises, cries of disgust, or to even flee in terror.
When I am on my computer, most of the time, I’m either at home, or in some sort of protected environment. When I am out and about, my eyes are not on my device. I won’t even answer it if it’s ringing. My eyes methodically scan my immediate surroundings, doorways, and the horizon. I am not interested in even pretending that life itself provides any sort of protection toward my person. If I am fortunate to have the company of another human being, I direct my attention to that person or persons right up until the moment that they start tending to their pet. If I can steal a moment of a sense of being protected, perhaps by physical obstacles to any sort of human surprise, I’ll check to see who called. Friends who expect constant electronic interaction from me do not stay friends for long.
When one looks at the sheer effort required merely to stay alive and in comfort for humans of the past, whether by hunting, craftsmanship, manufacturing one’s own soap, etc., it may be a mystery to some how on earth humans had such time to spend on such pursuits.
When I see the amount of time that many modern humans spend tending to their “pets,” the mystery is solved.