I’m fifty-four years old and I have NEVER owned a cell phone.
Don’t want one.
Don’t need one.
They freaking scare me.
Did you ever see that Star Trek: The Next Generation episode where the entire crew of the star ship Enterprise is addicted to a game that you play by spinning bulls-eye Frisbees into coral reef tubas?
It was one of the creepier episodes – and if you can’t remember it just click that image and read all about it at Wikipedia.
Every time that I see some person walking down the sidewalk with their gaze firmly fixed on their palms – in which they are gently cradling some sort of cell phone – with a focus akin to the world’s last priest blessing the world’s last crucifix before going into toe-to-toe battle with a a star ship full of vampires – I feel a little shiver of apprehension.
I wonder to myself how long it has been since that person – who seems so all mightily hypnotized by that rinky-tink gadget in his hand – has heard a bird singing in the trees above his head. How long since they have actually smiled and/or conversed with a living human being – rather than a weird tinny voice coming out of some Tic-Tac shaped mechanism in the palm of his hand.
How long since they actually looked up to watch where the traffic is coming from?
I sit next to those cell phone people on the bus and I can almost hear the whispering commands of Uncle Big Brother whispering into their pixel-soaked cerebellums – do what I tell you, do what I tell you.
They scare me.
I guess they scared Stephen King, too – which is why he wrote CELL. But I’m sorry, I feel he humped the bad bone on that particular novel. It started out wonderfully and then it just got stranger and stranger until I began to wonder just what sort of a cell phone old Mr. King was listening to while he wrote that bit of toilet paper.
I know some of you liked it. Don’t worry, I don’t take it personally. Reading is still one of the greatest exercises of personal taste that can be imagined – although even that is being undermined by such uber-selling phenomena-books such as FIFTY SHADES OF OH MY GOD!!!
And there – I’ve gone and insulted some other readers.
Nobody ever tried to tell you that my IQ ranked above the double-digits.
But, like I said, cell phones scare me.
I blame Gene Roddenberry.
Let’s face it – ever since the first Trekkie saw Captain Kirk flip open his communicator and say “Beam me up, Scotty.” – mankind has been all lathered up over the thought of being able to do that. It was only a matter of time before we were all flipping our cellphones and trying hard not to let on that we really all were thinking about Captain Kirk.
All right, so some of you might have been thinking about Uhura – but you get my point.
Now I don’t want anyone out there to get the idea that I am some sort of a Luddite. Hell, I am keeping a blog, aren’t I? I’ve got e-books and I want an e-reader and I really truly love my DVR service.
But there is something that is inherently eerie about the notion of my butt pocket ringing at me in the middle of the day.
Which is why I started my latest e-book with the line – “So as near as I could tell the end of the world began roughly about the time that Billy Carver’s butt rang about halfway through the War of 1812.”
And if you were reading this blog on a DVR this would be the time that you’d want to fast-forward through the commercials – because that is exactly what I am about to hit you with.
A freaking commercial.
Episode Two is now available on Kindle and Kobo.
It costs a mere ninety-nine cents – the exact same as Episode One. I’m not trying to get rich here. I’m just trying to get this story out there to as many people as I can.
Still, I get rich, you won’t hear me crying about it. I’ll bear up to it as manfully as I can. You’ll whisper to yourself – my God, how does that man put up with all those millions of dollars he has earned? You’ll be astounded at how I stand tall amongst my heap of plunder. You’ll be so astounded that you’ll want to tell all your friends and so – most likely you will do just that!
On your cell phone.
Beam up a copy of FLASH VIRUS EPISODE ONE from Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Flash-Virus-Episode-One-ebook/dp/B009UD51DY
Or, if you’re in the UK hit your phaser button and set it to – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Flash-Virus-Episode-One-ebook/dp/B009UD51DY
Or if you’re into Kobo put the Vulcan Death Lock on – http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Flash-Virus-Episode-One/book-YDeVCTJbIk2NEp4ccXfybg/page1.html?s=-1n-7FK_b0exbHdBFaD4yQ&r=3
Got that?
Then chart a course back to Amazon.com and charge a plasma torpedo with – http://www.amazon.com/Flash-Virus-Episode-Two-ebook/dp/B009YW6X7O/ref=pd_rhf_dp_p_t_1
Or in the UK take a good stiff swallow of bootleg Romulan Ale and sink into this – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Flash-Virus-Episode-Two-ebook/dp/B009YW6X7O/ref=pd_rhf_ee_p_t_3
Lastly – for you Kobo-holics – take your shuttle craft out for a spin and Kling-on to this – http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Flash-Virus-Episode-Two/book-B6fZtUgL0kWjTciKY_CkIg/page1.html?s=LxxKJLC91U6hMrAfyHroTg&r=2
If you’ve got second thoughts on this matter – well just pull up the sneak-peek sample and try it on for size.
Tell them your cell phone sent you.
Yours in storytelling,
Steve Vernon
YOURS IN STORYTELLING... 