Today on the radio I heard of a new app (don't you love how computer-ese is systematically killing off language, syllable by precious syllable?). It's called "Tone Check." Guess what this handy, dandy app does for all communication-challenged androids masquerading as humans?
It checks the tone of our e-mails to ensure the rapidly typed epistles, fraught with sentence fragments and slang, won't be misinterpreted or misunderstood (apparently, according to Tone Check, there is a heightened risk of insult if the writer chooses misunderstood over the daintier, far more pleasing misunderstand).
Wow! With the click of a button a computer program designed to protect us from the unavoidable injury wrought by human-to-human communication when the humans are removed.
Wonder what kind of Tone Check was required in the day of the letter, penned by hand, posted by mail, opened by the recipient, breathed in, poured over, cherished (or personally burned)?
None. The tone was there, straight from the heart and mind of the writer. No app needed. Not a dollar to be made. Just a letter in the box from one human being to another.
You got mail. Real mail in real envelopes with real, person-to-person tone. No e-mail inbox in the country can rival that. No app in the world can perfect that. No computer geek in the universe can out-program that. Ever.
