If I had money to throw around or I lived at the end of the street Delabordère in Neuilly-sur-Seine and incidentally I mingled with the mob, I would buy a cell phone jammer (GSM frequencies and 3G, UMTS, etc.). and would add to the panoply of the perfect Parisian who wants to piss off the hecklers.
The purchase of this beast is allowed, its use, however, is regulated or prohibited.
Before, I fixed the cell phone addicts who, in defiance of the rules of good living the most basic, telling their hectic lives by bus, subway, restaurant. Referring that the for-mid-able hair color, which tryst gone awry, that the debriefing of a conf call boring as it does not concern us, and I pass the green and I ' ve nothing to fart. By dint of blandly set, I could reap a vague eyebrow questioningly but what he has one, he wants my picture?
now interfering in the pocket, I darted a mocking eye on my future victims and operate the craft, creating interference on how to read my book in peace. I feed the prohibited expression of Quidam, its multiple and unsuccessful attempts to reconnect with the boss that he had cherished on the line, then deadly boredom suddenly seize because he does not what to do with his journey, his ten fingers of his time in his life. The abyss. Prof.
will suspect malicious activity more students or sms-esque cybernetic. The traveler will
a nap or quiet conversations free ringtones Blocker.
The devotee and bigot will not be disturbed in their monologues addressed to the Most High.
And cetera.
Some people dream of ubiquitous, to be teleported, to read minds, to look under the skirts of girls or boys kilts, I dream of a world where the rubbish thrown out the car window would return to the front of the driver or dishonest the soft bed of her home, I also dream of a public space where promiscuity would prohibit telephone conversations.
And finally think we agree.
(post inspired by a proposal for a "perfect world" by Virginia B )
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