Black, gold

I have a new cellphone. It is one of those newfangled cellphones that has an extra piece of string or a special carrier pigeon that connects it to the interwebs (I do not understand modern technology). Vodafone now has some decent pricing plans for cellphone interwebs, so I have no excuse not to use it. But this has been both a bonus and a burden.

For example, if I’m walking down Courtenay Place and I think, “Wot was that line from Clue that Mrs White says about the flames?”, I can just whip out my phone and google it and quickly find the answer.

However, it also means that having the net at my fingertips sucks me out of the now and focuses my attention on the little black rectangle in my hand. It’s like the monolith from “2001”, but instead of evolving me to a new plane of enlightenment, it tells me trivia facts about Romania (Romania’s parliament building is the largest building in Europe!)

I was thinking about how cellphones are used these days. I rarely use mine for voice calls any more. In fact, my cellphone rang for a first time a few days ago and I didn’t know which button to press to answer it so I missed the call. Oh, such a modern dilemma!

But I would like to note that when my cellphone rings,it rings.


I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Isn’t it awesome that the Wellington Lions won the Ranfurly Shield after a 26-year dry spell, mate!” Well, um, prior to a couple of days ago, I didn’t even know that there was a sports team called the Wellington Lions.

So with this in mind, I have wisely left the commentary on this topic to my mum, who filed this report from Wellington airport, the day after the win:

We got to the airport quite early and had just settled down to wait for the plane when there was an announcement, “I am proud to announce that the Air New Zealand flight from Auckland will be arriving shortly.” (Proud, I thought, that’s a bit odd)

Then there was a lot of yahoo-ing and yelling from a group of middle-aged Koru Club ladies up the other end of the room who were watching the plane come in. Of course the plane had the victorious Lions on board.

On the tarmac there were two fire trucks in position and when the plane taxied to the terminal it was generously sprayed with water, most of which was blown the other way anyway. Also there were a lot of workers in yellow vests on the tarmac waving flags and yellow and black scarves. Oh, how I wished I’d kept my old school scarf!

We didn’t go down to join in the rabble. We heard some kids doing a haka and there was a lot of cheering and clapping. The Koro Club ladies (and their cellphone cameras) had disappeared to join in the fun. It was all on the TV news last night, anyway.

The plural of text, and other modern dilemmas

Simon le BonesThis is my cellphone. It’s a Nokia 1100, which, Wikipedia notes, “has been specifically designed for developing countries: its keypad and front face have been designed to be as dustproof as possible, and its sides are non-slip for humid weather.” (This is obviously not a world class cellphone.)

I don’t live in the developing world (though it does get a little humid around here at times), but this phone suits my needs – phone calls and textsisesses.

The slim gentleman to the left is Mr Simon Le Bones. He is the official mascot of my cellphone, and even if my phone kinda sucks, he brings a little deathmotif style to the business.

But despite the presence of Mr Le Bones, my cellphone is currently having some troubles. It does this thing where, when someone phones me, it’ll manage to ring about twice, then it sort of freaks out and turns itself off. But the most frustrating thing about this is it doesn’t keep a record of the call, so I have no idea who was trying to phone me.

I don’t know what the experience is like for the caller, but I have this horrible feeling that it might seem like I’ve been flicking the call through to voicemail because I don’t want to talk. Oh noez!

The phantom switch-off has happened a couple of times in recent days, so I’m thinking maybe it’s time to get a new phone. Something a bit fancier with a colour screen and maybe even an mp3 player and/or a camera.

But it all seems very complicated, this modern cellphone world. So if anyone has any hints or tips, please share. My minimum requirement is that the phone have a loop for Simon Le Bones to hook on to.

Pink schedule

Currently doing the blog rounds is the faux bling encrusted Samsung cellphone for ladies.

The description of the phone (“It’s delicately cut edges give brilliance comparable to a diamond, reflecting eternal beauty.”) have a certain English-as-a-second-language feeling, but it’s the list of the special features for women the phone has that really excites me:

Features for Women
– Biorhythm
– Fatness Index
– Calorie Calculator
– Pink Schedule
– Menstruation

Isn’t that brilliant? It’s not just dinky little cell phone features. It’s almost like the five most suckiest things about being female. Belief in crazy future prediction systems! Being neurotic about weight! Being neurotic about eating! Being obsessed with appearing cute and delicate! And bleeding, like the dirty, filthy harlot you secretly are.

I’m waiting for Samsung to make a special men’s phone with the following special features:

Features for Men
– Football
– Penis size
– Naked lady
– Toilet
– Beer