Posts Categorised: Fiction
It is a commonly-known historical fact that the slaves in the time of Frederick Douglass and Harriet Beecher Stowe were often mistreated, some beaten and abused by the more ruthless of slave owners. While we as a society and culture have realized our erroneous ways, we are still an impetuous lot of careless, aggravated, contemptuous, and impatient buffoons.
Where the employment of the free service of people has left a hole, machines and modern technological gadgets now aid us in our day to day lives. And, just as the Negro slaves were abused, so are the machinery, kitchen appliances, and devices of today equally mistreated. Sentient beings they may not be, but faithful servants they certainly are. It’s quite unfortunate, then, that when our poor electronic servants fail to serve with precision that we beat them on the coffee table, dash them against the wall, demolish them with our vehicles, and leave them in some trash dump.
They sit there—beaten, crushed, trampled, tormented, and completely neglected—wondering what they did to deserve such an ill fate. Then, to ruthlessly add insult to injury, we run to the nearest store to eagerly purchase a better, faster, more advanced device that will better serve our hunger for immediate entertainment. Computers with adequate internet service are replaced with laptops with lightning-fast service. Smart phones that allow you to send and receive calls are replaced by newer, slimmer smart phones that also allow you to send and receive calls. Beard trimmers that dutifully kept men’s symbol of epitomizing manliness trim and proper for many a year are replaced by a contraption that keeps the beard in pristine perfection, vacuuming the hair simultaneously for the truly lethargic of bearded humans.
Readily and eagerly will these new devices jump to attention whenever we require their services. Until, in just a few short months, they become outdated. The internet doesn’t connect within two seconds. The blender doesn’t amalgamate our pieces of fruit thoroughly or efficiently enough for our outrageous standards. So, suffering the same fate as their predecessors, we abandon them to rot and suffer in some desolate trash heap, where they will be overcome with old age and degeneration. Such is the fate of these wonderful machines which have aided the human race for decades.
Even I, be it known, have been guilty of abusing pieces of machinery that have failed my immediate need. Many a time have I taken into consideration mauling my weed-trimmer short of its very life. I have thrown it to the ground, uttering all kinds of atrocious expletives, as it bears my bitter rage and aggression. Rest in peace, helpless grass trimming tool.
If, dear reader, you are a culprit to this calamity of sins towards machines as I am, please consider the recipient of your loathing and spare them of your malice. These machines were not made for failure, but for serving. Please take part in this serious endeavor to end violence towards machines.