I’ve always been immoderatly clock-oriented. But that was part of what seemed wrong with my infrequent periods of actual labor: the deadly predictability of jobs everyone sighs about, a glut of clocks and my thin neck twisting to their perfect circles, around and around and around.
This is from Wolf by Jim Harrison. I can relate: My life is dictated by clocks. I’m so punctual atomic clocks have been known to synchronize with me. My work days are divided into chunks on my calendar. Typically those segments are 30 minutes long, because that way I can cram more meetings into my day than if they were one hour long. I can normally guess the time of day to a few minutes.
By reminding us when to do the things we do, clocks are a freedom reducing technology.
Like clocks, mirrors only became a technology that was widely available in the 19th century. Like most people, I’ve never known a life without either. Sometimes, when I’m out, I catch a glimpse of what such a life is like. On a backpacking trip, a week may pass before I look at myself in a mirror. In theory, I could look at my reflection in a puddle, but in practice, I never do. What was life like for those who hardly ever saw their reflection? Did they have higher self-confidence? Were they less self-conscious about their looks? Looking at photos from the 19th century, it appears to me that the smiles were more natural. Today, as soon as someone knows they’re on camera, their smile freezes and becomes a mildly disturbing mask.
Nehaveigur 