iMe

Is anyone else getting a little tired of everything out there being called iSomething or eSomething? I get it, we live in an electronic world, the iPod is everywhere, and the internet is our new playground/town hall/encyclopedia. But surely we can stop with the i-ing and e-ing?

It's especially bizarre when the thing being i-ed or e-ed is totaly unrelated to electronics or the iTunes revolution, and it is clear that the name bestowers simply were attempting to give a little hipness to their project or connect to the iPod somehow.

Yesterday, in Place Royale, we saw an exhibit that is called eDoubts. I think the e in this case refers to Europe, as the artwork is dots marking European cities, each with a big question mark on it, spread all over the plaza, cars and busses rattling over them nonstop. As the Mister pointed out, if they think throwing a bunch of question marks onto the ground is supposed to make us interrogate the concept of European cohesiveness well, they've got another think coming.

So, if we can have eDoubts, I wondered what other nouns have been transformed into iVersions and eVersions. Quick google searches of objects within eyesight and some other nouns that came to mind proved that the i and the e can be attached to just about anything: iLamp eLamp ePlant iChair eCandy iMirror iBlanket iWorld iDog iHero iWish eDreams. Welcome to the internetization of the world.

It was not until I tried "iFloorboards" and "eFloorboards" that I hit a wall. Even then, there were a couple of companies who had already registered the domain name "iFloorboards" in case someone ever wanted to eMarket their...virtual floorboards?

Anyone want to make bets as to what will be the next manifestation of Vowel Prefix Syndrome? a, o, or u? Introducing the exciting new whirligig called aThing! uGadget. oExpensiveFancyStuff.

Today, I am thankful for things that are not i- or e- or virtual or pixellated. I'm thankful for my fuzzy sweatshirt, and my husband's morning kiss, for the roasty taste of coffee, and the straight spines of books lined up on the shelf.