Man without technology
My Grade 11 chemistry teacher once attempted to teach me the proper formula to be used in a science experiment. Sadly, her efforts were in vain and I am now a social science major with no apparent need for science, although, for one day, I am going to attempt to try it again.
I decided to conduct a personal experiment and attempt to go a day without any technology, except for the city bus, running water and the marvelous technology used to brew beer. I am afterall, Super Marshall, and I will prevail against technology.
8:11 a.m. I woke up over an hour late for class because I couldn't use my alarm clock, nor turn on my radio because of the experiment's rules. All attempts to find a rooster to wake me up sadly failed too bad, I could have used the company.
8:13 a.m. Thankfully, depriving myself of running water is not a part of this experiment, so I can uphold my legendary suave and attractive appearance with a shower.
8:26 a.m. Noticing some whiskers on my face, I would normally shave. Since I'm banned from using my electric razor, I'm heading to classes relying on my bum-like charm.
8:30 a.m. I was obliged to have a bowl of Cheerios with milk, which was kind of tasty, but I would have preferred a toasted bagel. The toaster, I'm told, is technology.
9:25 a.m. Trapped on the city bus without my Discman, I was forced to talk to a crack head named Rachel who used to go to high school with me. She wanted to go downtown to get ready to sell some drugs rather than go to class; it was nice to see her doing so well.
9:58 a.m. - I finally arrived to my political theory class an hour late due to the MIA rooster.
10:55 a.m. As class drew to a close, a classmate approached me asking for a Web site that he desperately needed for a class project the next day. I agreed to e-mail the site's address to him.
10:57 a.m. Doh! I just remembered, e-mail equals technology, therefore I can't e-mail my classmate the valuable Web site. Didn't like him anyway.
11:06 a.m. In a desperate attempt to seek refuge from the burning
desire to use technology, I flee to The Gazette office. I finally
sat down and read the newspaper; I usually listen to the news on the radio
in the morning.At this point, I had yet to find out about the war in Iraq.
11:07 a.m. to 1:45 p.m. This period of the day was the highlight of it all. I was told I had gone temporarily insane, because I was telling bad jokes and trying to trace the history of the metric system. Although this behaviour could be attributed to lack of sleep, many felt that it was the fact that I was abstaining from technology. Both are likely true.
2 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. I managed to get through Canadian history without using any technology, but no one really uses technology when they are sleeping with their eyes open. During the class's break, I was hungry for the all-dressed goodness found in the vending machines, but all I could do was peer through the window and drool.
4:37 p.m. I probably should have called home to ensure no one would be expecting me for supper, but, alas, the telephone is also technology.
5:45 p.m. A friend pointed out that I have been wearing my wrist watch all day; without realizing it, I had ruined the whole experiment. Super Marshall isn't looking so suave afterall.
7:30 p.m. I tried, I really tried, but I broke down. I ended up collapsing onto a couch to get some up-to-date information about the Iraqi war on television.
8:45 p.m. To top the day off, I retired to The Spoke and enjoyed a CLT. I probably should have abstained, but the technology-driven tastiness was too just to good to pass up.
Giving up technology was not as fun as it looked at the outset. I found myself cut off from the rest of world due to a lack of e-mail and television. When it is all said and done, I failed, mostly because I took the watch on my wrist for granted. In the end, it is the small things that matter most in an experiment. Super Marshall failed.