My house is full of "incredibly advanced technology" which the term no longer applies to. I don't know if it is quite garbage yet, but it is - bare minimum - garbage adjacent. Some of it is, no doubt, adjacent to the garbage can.
One of my prized possessions is a USB cable Robert got me in Japan. From a single USB plug, fully four unique device charging cables emerge. Imagine packing for a trip and knowing that if this one cable was in there, you were set for your PSP, your phone, and a couple different Nintendo handhelds. I still treasure it, for his thought of me while harvesting Akihabara, but also because it is essentially transience taken physical form. None of the ports it charges are in any kind of modern use. It was designed to connect to everything and now this little cable is all alone.
Gabriel was telling me about the Gear 360, a little Samsung camera with a 195 degree lens on both sides of it that can be used to snap full, 360 degree "photorbs." We wondered just how permanent these would be, what they would even mean to another generation. Would they be more or less useful than our own grandparents' photo albums? I think its trout, essentially; it's all fucking trout.
If you have no part of you given over to these fascinations, what cultists we must appear. Our little perishable gods, our transitory sacraments, and secret accretions of profoundly temporary power.