I recently shared a photo from some online media site showing several young people–teens I would say–seated nearby a very large painting in one or another very likely prominent art museum. The painting is not identified in the posting, but it might be by some Dutch artist from a handful of centuries back. It shows about a dozen men attired in the fashion of the day, some with swords out, others brandishing a musket or two and and drummer, apparently, celebrating something or maybe objecting to a situation. Very likely some others seeing this imposing painting recognized it in name and the artist who created it. However, whether or not one could appreciate the painting’s particulars, the photo’s real focal point is squarely on those teens seated just feet from it. One’s attention is immediately grabbed by what the young gallery goers were doing the moment the shutter snapped: they are all looking at their smartphones. The photo’s framing was no doubt intended to elicit a reaction to its juxtaposing those focused on whatever was on their phones to the painting looming large in the background.

My reaction was neither surprise or consternation. If anything it struck me as reflective of our 21st Century attachment to our digital, hand-held devices. Ho hum. Why they were looking at their phones was beside the point, I thought. At the turn of the 21st century, they couldn’t be staring at much on a cellphone, except maybe the time of day. Now, the capacity of smartphone bells and whistles have expanded exponentially with digital research and development. There have been feature films shot entirely with the use of these devices. We are all connected, world-wide, by them, while simultaneously–to some degree– growing more and more disconnected from the non-digital world. You know: reality. In the moment, in reality. In nature. Minus any hand-held, or bluetooth or even wearing a smartwatch or fitbit. Like ancient times… like the men in that painting back, back, back in the day.

Seriously, do you know anyone, adult, young adult, tween or even some who haven’t reached the double-digits in age yet who does not have some version of a smart phone? The teens in that photo were all born into the digital age. Their formal education incorporates digital technology starting in pre-school. So, okay, they are all looking at their phones. No one knows exactly the context of that moment. The posting doesn’t identify much, other than asserting a custodian took it, but that may or may not be true. Who posted it? The custodian? Does it matter who took the picture? Well, I suppose so because if whomever took it had them pose for the shot, that would make a huge difference if known by an observer and his or her reaction to what is seen. Then again, would even a  posing by those kids make the reaction any different, given it would then be a version of photographic “art” imitating an undeniable, modern, reality. But there is literally no way of knowing who took the picture, who posted it on social media or why. 

Having said all of that, let me now share the reaction to my sharing the initial encounter of that photo to my Facebook page (and Instagram, of course. Me so digitized!). One commentator asserted the kids had already looked at the painting and that the photo was meant to “produce an ignorant and outraged result.” Thus, my reposting of it automatically made me an outraged ignoramus. Another commentator asserted the youngsters were using their phones as research (presumably they being on a field trip to the higher culture stratosphere of an art museum). When I responded to those commentators “were you there”?, one of them launched into a diatribe stating no, he wasn’t there but also didn’t see every vote in the 2020 election or ever having been to the Comet Ping Pong Pizzeria (why am I willing to believe that is a real place?). Also he could not say that Hilary Clinton is not molesting children in the basement (hmm what children?, what basement? The kids at that pizzeria, in its basement??). It was even suggested I could be with Qanon.

So, the moral of this posting is that we live in very troubled times. Hey, a picture is worth a thousand words, as that saying goes. In the digitally-dazed 21t century, a picture is worth a thousand insults for having the unmitigated gall, and brazen effrontery to just share a photo without offering any documentation of it. The nerve! Should I dump all my social media accounts? Go into hiding? Assume a non de plume? Certainly those who attacked me have looked at my FB and Instagram pages. They’ve seen all they need to see: pictures of musical entertainments, little children, flowers in full bloom, hotrods, bridges, tennis courts, downtown skylines, bicycles, food and a few well chosen faces, only a handful of them being me (or maybe NOT me). Clearly, a cover. I’ve been busted. Hoisted with my own petard.

But know this: I am certain those kids were looking at something. And whatever that something was does not matter. They are all now immortal in social media. And they have caused me to be a hunted ignoramus.