Staring up at a cell’ tower, imagining all of the dissonance bombarding it night and day.
How many millions of contentious texts are bouncing off of those vented panels? How much trivial pretentiousness is thrown at the tower every minute? How much pompism* is sent on the airwaves to and from the tower? How much bandwidth is plugged up with overly wordy textual intercourses?
Then again, how many birthday wishes are flying across the planet because of the cell’ tower? How many people, who can’t reach each other physically because they’re too distant on the planet, can make contact because of the cell’ tower? How many people get to talk to each other…before they never hear from each other in this lifetime again? How many people get to know their distant relatives through the cellular sound waves? How many men and women meet each other online first and then get together in a permanent married way? How many friends set up D&D games, or Pokemon get-togethers, or pool parties, or sandlot ball games, or sand volleyball games, or mud football games, or road rallies—-and all because of that connection forty feet in the air.
It has its good points to counter the bad.
*Pompism: the use of unnecessarily large words. People who want to make themselves appear intelligent operate under the principle of pompism.
Xenosthesia.com 