What happens when you ASS-U-ME

To all financial advisors, economists, and chronological adults who base their predictions of my behavior on my educational status:

There is nothing to be gained by telling me to use the university's meal plan instead of eating out. Where do you think most of my nutrition is coming from?

I don't drink coffee, much less buy Starbuck's all the time, so please don't sneer at me to cut back on the froufrou lattes when you see me glancing through my wallet to see if I have enough cash for a bulk bucket of rice. The missing twelve dollars went to buy my meds, which jumped from $10 at the last refill to what it is now. My last few paychecks went into my savings, and I'm not touching that fund until after graduation.

Don't tell me I should be loyal to the death to any company that hires me, or become a human remora when I'm interviewing for jobs. I've seen the results of that while I was growing up. I will show up on time, I will do my best work for the pay you give me, and I will be courteous. But I will not extend loyalty to an entity that expects me to kiss its feet between the punches to my face.

I don't spend my pay on mind-altering substances. I look draggy and out-of-it because I've just been to Vampires, Inc. this morning, and the sample bottle of Gatorade hasn't made it into my bloodstream to replenish the liquid portion of my blood they took. At least I didn't faint this time. I was smart enough to not run to catch the bus afterwards.

Telling me to get off my parents' dole isn't helpful. I'm applying for scholarships left and right to make sure they don't go into debt getting me through school without accumulating a backbreaking debt of my own. You'll notice I'm working, in addition to going to school full-time. Did you really think all of that money was going to frivolous stuff?

Please, don't ask again why I have a "useless" major. You're not helping. Although I'm tempted to go through with my original senior thesis idea, "Shovel Bum Versus Wild." It'd probably be a great hit on cable, and I'd have an excuse, if not a license, to do things like harvest the fruit and nuts off the trees on the quad and hunt the squirrels for meat.

And do not - repeat, do not - try to sell me credit cards. I don't like credit cards. I don't need more than the one I have. And I don't need the bait-and-switch tactics you guys love to use eating what's left of my stomach lining.

That word doesn't mean what you think it means.

I personally don’t think I’ve earned the “Luddite” reputation most people outside my immediate family have bestowed on me. I just dislike using more advanced technology than I have to (the fewer the parts, the fewer things to go wrong), and I don’t feel the need to make my face, location, and latest mishap public.

This has led to…interesting events I doubt would have happened to a more connected person.

I baffled at least two roommates by not having a MySpace or Facebook page for them to investigate before we met face to face, but I didn’t actively attempt to take down either website or trash the computers they were using to (try to) look me up. This led to quite a few misidentifications and baffled people with my name wondering who the hell from Big State University was trying to look them up as a roommate when they had already graduated from University of Faraway State.

That was when I first heard the term “Luddite” applied to me. That honestly perplexed me. I don’t run around actively destroying anything more advanced than last century’s technology. I just read about it in the newspaper and then move on, reminding myself to wait for the final verdict about its use and for the gadget to hit a more reasonable price if it looks like something I'd want to have.

I’ve gotten stranger names applied to me. The most memorable was being called “Connor”, as in the hero of the Terminator series who’s living so far off the grid that the grid is just a distant blip on the horizon. So is sanity, towards the end of those movies, but I digress.

Allow me to clarify.

I’m wary of GMOs in the food chain or as potential organ donors and new health treatments that declare themselves to be the best things invented since the wheel, but can never seem to point to any studies from reputable sources that back up their claims. While these are necessary advancements, I don’t want to be included in the first mass case study where the people pushing the technology find out that “laboratory conditions” do not equal “what the real world will dish out.”

I’d rather not find out the hard way that they spliced cat genes into whatever sheep gave up its wool for my sweater, or that salmon is showing up in my potato patch when I didn’t toss a rotten fish in there myself as fertilizer. You have to prove it’s worth the trouble before I’ll bite.

Just because most of my birthday “would like, but isn’t a necessity” wishes come out of a non-electric catalog doesn’t mean that I’m going to give up running water or modern medical treatment. I’m not yelling “stop!” That’s pure idiocy. I’m just asking “Are you sure this is such a hot idea?”

Some people would think being next to immortal is the best idea humanity’s come up with, but I can’t figure out anything beneficial to do on a rainy day. Machines that enhance human performance? The possibility that one day the phrase “ghost in the machine” won’t just refer to rogue programming? I feel like a cyborg already, and all I have is two fillings, an anti-grinding device, and glasses so anything beyond arm’s reach isn’t an amorphous fuzzy blob.

And the idea of implants making you better than you were before they were buried in your skin gets under mine for reasons that are hard to put into words. I can’t help wondering what we’re leaving behind in our race to be the best of the next generation.

But I’m not going to destroy your technology just because it scares me. I want you to think about what you’re doing. I know you can’t see every consequence, but please think ahead. That’s all.

And I want you to fully understand what a word means before you use it. All right? It’s a pet peeve of mine that people use Spell Check and synonyms the computer suggests more than they use the dead-tree version of a dictionary or a thesaurus these days.