Peering Blurrily...just peering blurrily

I carry a big ass purse, to borrow Reggie Watts' phrase, so that I can always have room for a book and be able to accommodate a folded The Stranger  too. I usually have the day's crossword puzzle in there, and, of course, my iPhone with all its apps, mp3s, ebooks, and the internet.

When I traveled in Yemen and other Middle Eastern and Asian countries a decade ago, I noticed that shopkeepers, souk vendors, and mostly everyone I saw squatting in public by their wares or shop doors sat with nothing in their hands to read. They maybe were chatting with a neighbor, chewing a big wad a qat leaves, or just staring into space, but they were placid in their non-distraction by book, Gameboy, TV, or even radio.

I wonder if any of them now are checking their phones while eating communally on the floor, traditional-style. Or if sheesha smokers puff and peer at their devices in Khan Al Kalili. I guess they do.

Pico Iyer, in his recent NY Times article, "The Joy of Quiet," promotes the case, which is being ever more frequently made, for stillness and life offline. Here's a quote that also emphasizes the importance of education for information and media literacy and critical thinking:

So what to do? The central paradox of the machines that have made our lives so much brighter, quicker, longer and healthier is that they cannot teach us how to make the best use of them; the information revolution came without an instruction manual. All the data in the world cannot teach us how to sift through data; images don’t show us how to process images. The only way to do justice to our onscreen lives is by summoning exactly the emotional and moral clarity that can’t be found on any screen.

Here's the link:
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/01/opinion/sunday/the-joy-of-quiet.html?_r=3&pagewanted=all&smid=fb-share

and here's Reggie's Big Ass Purse video:


`