
                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, October 3, 1994                   TAG: 9411120014
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

BEN CALLS FOR WAR ON E-MAIL

I certainly don't want to disrupt the normal course of commerce and human existence in this country, but I am today announcing the formation of an organization that will strive to bring this country to its senses.

What the organization - which is yet to be named - will attempt is a better understanding of how technology is bleeding away our human values and scaring hell out of older people such as yours truly here.

When the membership has raised enough money - and I'm the six-figure executive director - I want to launch a crippling attack on the technological advance that threatens us most: Computer mail.

I mean business. I'm tired of just talking about these modern marvels that are undermining our way of life. It's war, boys.

These computer messages take a great deal of humanity out of your average office. And you and I know that your average office could use a little humanity.

For example, Jethro Del Rio, the office Lothario, once told Olga Starcastle, the office bombshell, to her face that she looked dynamite in her new leather mini-skirt.

This was just pleasant talk at the water cooler, and Olga loved it and would compliment Jethro on the Windsor knot in his new paisley tie.

If Jethro, his skill with Windsor knots aside, wrote Olga the same sentiments on a computer, it's a good bet that she would be shocked to see it in writing, and first thing you know Jethro is involved in a sexual harassment suit.

Young men who want the afternoon off no longer go into the boss' office to con him. It takes less nerve to send him a message from a safe spot in the office and await his reply:

"To JethroD:

"No way do u get a day off. Aren't you the guy who got us into this lawsuit with the Starcastle dame?''

You used to be able to be able to meet your best pal at the water cooler and tell him that you had to go up a couple of inches in the size of your boxer shorts.

If you put anything like in electronic print, the boss - computer police, maybe - finds out about it and you get the following on your screen:

"To EphraimT:

"Watch that weight, fellow. We don't need porkies representing us in this business."

In future columns, we'll discuss ways to trash fax, push-button phones, the information highway and other horrors.

The only good news here is that despite technology Olga still wears a pretty good miniskirt.

by CNB