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Picture from the Gardaí during the Liverpool/Barcelona match last night...Tuesday 10am
The train to Euston,
A sea of laptops, tablets and phones.
Screens flashing up emails, house of cards, autotrader,
Line of duty – sometimes more than one screen for a pair of eyes and ears.
Facebook, whatsapp, whatever.
At 10am on a Tuesday.
Work calls, conference and the like.
Signal cutting out.
Frustration with the lack of goddamn connection.
Big shots don’t go without.
A trip to the loo, up the aisle as it were,
Reveals endless scrolling.
Through emails, texts, flicking through fit girls – hey mate check this out.
This is work time but a life time,
That can’t be told apart.
Headphones are on shutting out the world.
For interruptions every second.
The attention elsewhere.
Does the thumb know what the mind wants?
Or does agitation lead to movement before the brain engages.
To let the screen lead the brain where distraction may wander.
The chicken or the egg, nature or nurture.
The mind in space and time,
The tech utopia.
Traditionally work time.
Sorry. Remind me how United have done in the Champions League and premiership this season. Or for the last six seasons in fact...