I havent written an essay in a while Here it is
Jirgal 1
Matthew Jirgal
Mr. Johnsmeyer English Class
Descriptive Essay
“We Are At The Mercy Of Our Devices”
We all know every single last person, even if they don’t show it, have emotions, personalities and are capable of being evil. What not everyone knows that emotions, personalities and other traits aren’t reserved for the warm blooded. Machines also have personalities, act, and treat you however they feel like. For example, when was the last time your toaster, or anyone else’s toaster has produced the “perfect” toast? Your toaster hates you, me and everyone else who it meets. Don’t worry, no toaster likes anyone. Furthermore, children’s toys don’t want to make friends with humans either. They actually in fact want to hurt you, if not physiologically, physically. They also like to hear you curse and yell at children. And lastly, I know from personal experience, that my Pontiac Grand Am has a multiple personality disorder. I never know how it will act from one hour to the next.
Think about it, you know exactly how you like your toast, especially if you want butter to melt on it just the right way. Your toaster knows this, and wants to make sure that one part of your life it is involved in goes wrong. This is why they volunteered to be used most commonly in the morning when you want to make breakfast. The beginning of your day is very important, you have the whole day ahead of you, there are people to meet/put up with, classes to attend, and your job to go to. If your morning is horrible, you cant do anything else for the rest of the day the way you would like to. When you throw some bread in your toaster it will undoubtedly either under cook it, or burn it to something similar to a fragile hockey puck. Not to be defeated by something so funny looking, you may choose to turn that dial controlling the cooking time to the left or right accordingly to get the result you would rather have. Shortly after, the bread pops up, and you are faced with even more aggravation. That damn toaster has done it again. You may choose to play with the adjuster all you want, and maybe it will finally co-operate, but just try again the next day and BAM your toast is doomed once more. Out of anger you may strike your toaster with perhaps… a baseball bat. Upon hitting the floor, tons of little burnt pieces of toast come spilling out known as toaster crumbs. These are actually the toasters tears, and the dents that are inflicted upon its outer casing are scars that will never completely heal no matter how hard you try to fix them.
Close your eyes and think back to if not a personal experience of this happening, a story like this one and you will agree with me. It doesn’t matter what hour of the day or night it is, but your walking around in your home, or someone else’s home barefooted and you accidentally step on a very sharp children’s toy. The next course of action is a quick spell of profanity, and then a scolding of the child responsible for leaving the toy out, especially in such a bad place that you ended up stepping on it and are now bleeding from the bottom of your foot because the only toys kids like now a days come with their own real working razor blade to aid it in combating evil. The child begins to cry immediately because s/he knows they did put that toy away but it got up on its own and found the perfect spot to spark its favorite past time: watching adults in pain and screaming at small children at the top of their lungs. The first and the second movies of “Toy story” come to mind with this situation. When we aren’t looking toys get up, conspire against us and plan out ways of making our lives miserable. These toys are capable of incredible feats of strength for something so little and plastic, have communication capabilities, and are always listening and watching what humans do. Even put into a closed toy chest, the temptation of hearing how angry an adult will get if they are not put away is too much to handle. They find a way to sneak out into the open and hang out in the worst place possible and wait for the action to begin. The reason why children cry immediately is because they know this is true, they put the toys away, and it gets right up as soon as it can and returns to where it was, but they cant tell adults this because they wont be believed. Especially when the toy threatens the child about never letting this secret out. I think this is because toys aren’t properly played with. Some toys are capable of launching missiles off their backs, come with their personal armory, or wield swords, and yet when they enter battle with their sword enemy, they are smacked face first into each other repeatedly no matter what else they are capable of in battle, or how they want to do battle. In return for their opinions not being heard, they decide to hurt the child in return the worst way possible, involve the parents to do all the dirty work. If you don’t enjoy scolding your children, buy them a bag of dirt and make them play in the garden, that way if they leave it lying around, they end up doing you a favor. If you want, maybe you can let them play with the hose in the back yard as well, your flowers are bound to get watered.
Almost three months ago, I bought my car from one of my best friends. I absolutely love this car and have no right to ask anything more from it. Unfortunately, this car has multiple personalities and I never know whom I’m about to meet whenever I start the car. Some days it likes to act like it is a high performance car, accelerating rapidly from the tap of the gas pedal and stopping on a dime when I press the brake. Some days it would rather go back to sleep and absolutely refuses to accept the fact that when I push the gas pedal down it should speed up and when I push the brake it should stop when you would like it to. The only way to get the results I want from it is to pamper it. Shortly after acquiring it, I gave it a tune up, changed its oil, gave it more power steering fluid, checked the brake pads, and filled it up to top with gas. Afterwards the car responded to my every command, as if it were my own personal servant. Eventually it was no longer satisfied. As I used more and more gas, drove many many miles I got less and less attention to my wishes of it. Off to the gas station and things would be all better… at first, now it does what it wants, when it wants. I have to make sure that if it doesn’t want to accelerate at its best there is enough room between me and someone coming up in my direction on the Palisades Parkway in order to avoid a nasty crash. I sometimes require slowing down long before its necessary for a stop sign or a red light. If I guess its behavior wrong then it take me forever to reach the point where I need to stop and the people behind me are cursing my name for crawling along the road so slowly. My car also hates the idea of an air conditioner. The actual air conditioning unit is making a constant strange sound, which is rather embarrassing when other people hear it. I’ve learned to ignore it, but can’t seem to especially when there is a girl in my car. It seems to be louder, as if it wants me to look like the guy who brings a girl around somewhere in a rolling death-trap. It hates Air conditioning so badly that last time I dared to turn it on, immediately my fan belt basically exploded into ribbons and forced me to be stranded on the side of the road with (ironically) a girl who was with me at the time, until help came along with a new belt. Replacing that belt also proved that my car could hate me sometimes. The set-up the belt gets rigged up to is so ridiculously frustrating to work with; it took over an hour to get done. It’s the little personality traits that really get to me too, the glove box lock is broken so its closed permanently held shut with a zip-tie, the defroster vent rattles when I hit any bump at all, along with the entire plastic section of the passenger side door.
Machines are all around us, most of them hate us. They all have a personality one way or another; you just have to think hard enough. Not only that, but these personalities have to tendency to have great satisfaction at our expense, and feed on our anger. The sound of a toasters laugher is the sound you hear when the little elevator that carries your bread pops up, toys sharpen their edges when your not looking, and my car wants me out of its life so it can be free to be irritable in peace. Before I let my car do that, it will be in Piece…es. The way to keep these machines from ruining your life, it to ignore them, and eventually they will stop bothering you, it worked on Richard Simmons didn’t it?
Matthew Jirgal
Mr. Johnsmeyer English Class
Descriptive Essay
“We Are At The Mercy Of Our Devices”
We all know every single last person, even if they don’t show it, have emotions, personalities and are capable of being evil. What not everyone knows that emotions, personalities and other traits aren’t reserved for the warm blooded. Machines also have personalities, act, and treat you however they feel like. For example, when was the last time your toaster, or anyone else’s toaster has produced the “perfect” toast? Your toaster hates you, me and everyone else who it meets. Don’t worry, no toaster likes anyone. Furthermore, children’s toys don’t want to make friends with humans either. They actually in fact want to hurt you, if not physiologically, physically. They also like to hear you curse and yell at children. And lastly, I know from personal experience, that my Pontiac Grand Am has a multiple personality disorder. I never know how it will act from one hour to the next.
Think about it, you know exactly how you like your toast, especially if you want butter to melt on it just the right way. Your toaster knows this, and wants to make sure that one part of your life it is involved in goes wrong. This is why they volunteered to be used most commonly in the morning when you want to make breakfast. The beginning of your day is very important, you have the whole day ahead of you, there are people to meet/put up with, classes to attend, and your job to go to. If your morning is horrible, you cant do anything else for the rest of the day the way you would like to. When you throw some bread in your toaster it will undoubtedly either under cook it, or burn it to something similar to a fragile hockey puck. Not to be defeated by something so funny looking, you may choose to turn that dial controlling the cooking time to the left or right accordingly to get the result you would rather have. Shortly after, the bread pops up, and you are faced with even more aggravation. That damn toaster has done it again. You may choose to play with the adjuster all you want, and maybe it will finally co-operate, but just try again the next day and BAM your toast is doomed once more. Out of anger you may strike your toaster with perhaps… a baseball bat. Upon hitting the floor, tons of little burnt pieces of toast come spilling out known as toaster crumbs. These are actually the toasters tears, and the dents that are inflicted upon its outer casing are scars that will never completely heal no matter how hard you try to fix them.
Close your eyes and think back to if not a personal experience of this happening, a story like this one and you will agree with me. It doesn’t matter what hour of the day or night it is, but your walking around in your home, or someone else’s home barefooted and you accidentally step on a very sharp children’s toy. The next course of action is a quick spell of profanity, and then a scolding of the child responsible for leaving the toy out, especially in such a bad place that you ended up stepping on it and are now bleeding from the bottom of your foot because the only toys kids like now a days come with their own real working razor blade to aid it in combating evil. The child begins to cry immediately because s/he knows they did put that toy away but it got up on its own and found the perfect spot to spark its favorite past time: watching adults in pain and screaming at small children at the top of their lungs. The first and the second movies of “Toy story” come to mind with this situation. When we aren’t looking toys get up, conspire against us and plan out ways of making our lives miserable. These toys are capable of incredible feats of strength for something so little and plastic, have communication capabilities, and are always listening and watching what humans do. Even put into a closed toy chest, the temptation of hearing how angry an adult will get if they are not put away is too much to handle. They find a way to sneak out into the open and hang out in the worst place possible and wait for the action to begin. The reason why children cry immediately is because they know this is true, they put the toys away, and it gets right up as soon as it can and returns to where it was, but they cant tell adults this because they wont be believed. Especially when the toy threatens the child about never letting this secret out. I think this is because toys aren’t properly played with. Some toys are capable of launching missiles off their backs, come with their personal armory, or wield swords, and yet when they enter battle with their sword enemy, they are smacked face first into each other repeatedly no matter what else they are capable of in battle, or how they want to do battle. In return for their opinions not being heard, they decide to hurt the child in return the worst way possible, involve the parents to do all the dirty work. If you don’t enjoy scolding your children, buy them a bag of dirt and make them play in the garden, that way if they leave it lying around, they end up doing you a favor. If you want, maybe you can let them play with the hose in the back yard as well, your flowers are bound to get watered.
Almost three months ago, I bought my car from one of my best friends. I absolutely love this car and have no right to ask anything more from it. Unfortunately, this car has multiple personalities and I never know whom I’m about to meet whenever I start the car. Some days it likes to act like it is a high performance car, accelerating rapidly from the tap of the gas pedal and stopping on a dime when I press the brake. Some days it would rather go back to sleep and absolutely refuses to accept the fact that when I push the gas pedal down it should speed up and when I push the brake it should stop when you would like it to. The only way to get the results I want from it is to pamper it. Shortly after acquiring it, I gave it a tune up, changed its oil, gave it more power steering fluid, checked the brake pads, and filled it up to top with gas. Afterwards the car responded to my every command, as if it were my own personal servant. Eventually it was no longer satisfied. As I used more and more gas, drove many many miles I got less and less attention to my wishes of it. Off to the gas station and things would be all better… at first, now it does what it wants, when it wants. I have to make sure that if it doesn’t want to accelerate at its best there is enough room between me and someone coming up in my direction on the Palisades Parkway in order to avoid a nasty crash. I sometimes require slowing down long before its necessary for a stop sign or a red light. If I guess its behavior wrong then it take me forever to reach the point where I need to stop and the people behind me are cursing my name for crawling along the road so slowly. My car also hates the idea of an air conditioner. The actual air conditioning unit is making a constant strange sound, which is rather embarrassing when other people hear it. I’ve learned to ignore it, but can’t seem to especially when there is a girl in my car. It seems to be louder, as if it wants me to look like the guy who brings a girl around somewhere in a rolling death-trap. It hates Air conditioning so badly that last time I dared to turn it on, immediately my fan belt basically exploded into ribbons and forced me to be stranded on the side of the road with (ironically) a girl who was with me at the time, until help came along with a new belt. Replacing that belt also proved that my car could hate me sometimes. The set-up the belt gets rigged up to is so ridiculously frustrating to work with; it took over an hour to get done. It’s the little personality traits that really get to me too, the glove box lock is broken so its closed permanently held shut with a zip-tie, the defroster vent rattles when I hit any bump at all, along with the entire plastic section of the passenger side door.
Machines are all around us, most of them hate us. They all have a personality one way or another; you just have to think hard enough. Not only that, but these personalities have to tendency to have great satisfaction at our expense, and feed on our anger. The sound of a toasters laugher is the sound you hear when the little elevator that carries your bread pops up, toys sharpen their edges when your not looking, and my car wants me out of its life so it can be free to be irritable in peace. Before I let my car do that, it will be in Piece…es. The way to keep these machines from ruining your life, it to ignore them, and eventually they will stop bothering you, it worked on Richard Simmons didn’t it?