"Sorry I'm late. Some idiot in a horseless carriage cut me off and spooked my horse a bit," I tell Paul the Preindustrial Poet when we meet for coffee.
"I know what you mean. I was cut off by a mustang this morning. You know the type that a guy gets in his mid-life crisis. I was walking down the street and he just cut me off."
"I guess I'm just in a bad mood. Some anonymous guy wrote told me that I'm going to Hell."
"On your plog?"
"It seems like people use technology to hide. It's like it becomes a mask. Whether it's cutting you off in a horseless carriage or being vindictive in a plog or bumping their phonograph loud enough that the whole neighborhood hears. They wouldn't cut you off in person or shout at you in a room or shout a song so loud that the whole city hears. It's like the technology becomes a way to hide."
"Is it really masking anything?'
"What do you mean?"
"I understand that it's unpleasant. I get that. And I understand that people use technology to hide. Or they forget the human side behind it. But cutting people off, making mean comments and the like - isn't that simply a part of the human condition?"