I want to destroy all cell phones; I wish they never existed. I wish I never felt a mechanical vibration sensation on my mid-thigh. I wish the fingers of the girl beside me in class fall off for texting her sorority sister (who she sees 20 times a day), whether or not hooking up with that dude in the bathroom of GADS at 3 a.m. had anything to do with why the banana nut muffin she ate that evening looked like a glazed donut when she threw it up this morning.

When someone pays over $1,000 for a class and can’t keep from texting or playing a game on their iPhone for 55 minutes, it makes me a lot angrier than a bird on a 3.5 inch display screen.

If I were a professor and I saw someone texting in my class, I would kick them out and immediately give them an F, as in “are you F-ing serious?”

If you’re only in school to party, have sex, and text — go home, tell your parents they messed up somewhere along the way and enroll back in high school.

Why is it that at every red light I encounter, I see someone staring down at the floor?

If you’re driving and your gas pedal isn’t stuck and if your floor mat is not on fire, there shouldn’t be a reason to look like you’re in a staring contest with your crotch.

To all my friends that religiously ride their bikes in the street to get around town, are you not scared? I’ll never ride my bike on a street in Bowling Green.

I’m terrified to think about some hormone-crazed, Xanax popping, zit-faced teenager, “driving” their parents’ late 1990’s gas-guzzling SUV, who’s more concerned with their all-important text message, which reads “wht up,” than keeping their glazed eyes on the road.

I’m not taking that chance when a narrow-minded 16-year-old thinks the vibration in her purse is more important than driving a 2,000 pound machine at 40 miles an hour.

Cell phones don’t help, they only hinder. They make us lazy and destroy our social skills as we become more addicted to them.

We’ve all seen the friends that go up the wall—like Freddy Krueger when he kills that first chick while she’s in bed with her boyfriend in the first Nightmare on Elm Street—when they lose or break their cell phones.

Those people become like their cell phones; they either can’t function or become lost.

Is it their fault that they’re addicted, or do we blame our society to be socially “connected” through technology at all times?

Are we really becoming more connected to each other, or more connected to our gadgets?

Humans are social animals. We thrive for the contact of others. If left with little or no social interaction and stimulation, we become crazy.

With cell phones, the internet, social-networking sites, Twitter, etc., we’ll find out what too much social stimulation, or the wrong kind, does to us soon enough.

Nick Weller

Stanford senior