On Flipping Phones
Throughout my journeys, many people have asked me why I flip phones. Most people find it a curiosity, others think it a nuisance. Many don't understand. The explanation requires a bit of backstory.
The first phone-flipper I ever met was Emily McGuire. For me, no explanation was required. It seemed so funny and so relevant (to me, at least) that I knew I wanted to have something to do with it. "Feisty activism," she called it. I loved it. I began flipping phones in Orlando quite regularly, and would jump at the chance to do it in other cities and states. I just thought it was funny. Most of the time, we would do it with ninja-like stealth, as though we were involved in some kind of dangerous counter-cultural movement. After a while, though, I was forced to reckon with the logic behind my actions. I can still remember the first time someone opposed me.
I was at the dollar movie theater on Colonial with some friends and I hastily flipped the single payphone in the lobby as we waited in line at the ticketbooth. My good friend Ricky, who had just witnessed his first phone-flip looked at me incredulously and immediately walked over to the same phone and corrected the "problem." I couldn't believe it. Why would he do that? What was he thinking? What difference does it make to him that I've flipped a public telephone? When I asked him these questions, he of course asked the logic behind my own actions and I think I was just as speechless as he. I didn't really understand at the time why I would be compelled to do such a thing, but I did know that this very simple action, which seemed revolutionary even, resonated loudly within my soul. Somehow, this statement was not only a comic satire, but also a serious sociopolitical statement. My passion for phone flippage increased as the time for my trip drew near. I was looking forward to flipping phones in foreign countries, to making this an international phenomenon. I started in LA and Tokyo and my queer acts quickly aroused suspicion in my Thailand group members. Bernard asked, with genuine interest, what it was all about. He wasn't opposed, necessarily, just curious. Again, I had to think hard about what I was doing. I thought back to Emily's description: feisty activism. Is that all it is? Just fiesty? I had problems with this term. While flipping phones certainly is subversive, I wouldn't say that it is fiesty. "Feisty" implies a mild antagonsim, which is not at all my intention. Through explaining it to Bernard, I came to a much more refined and logical understanding of why I flip phones and why I find it to be so important. The new description I adopted was "absurdist activism." I could easily recognize the act as some kind of performance art, so when I tried to slassify it in artistic terms, the best word I could find was absurdism. Just as Picasso reorganized facial features, I flip phones. The observer is asked to question their reality. My simple act is simply asking others to follow me into Alice's fabled rabbit hole, where what is... isn't; where everything is its opposite; where down is up and up is down. I do this because I feel that people don't question their reality enough. They just always assume that everything is the way that they've come to understand it. Then they see gravity hanging something the "wrong" way and they have to ask themselves why they would consider it wrong. I mean, the phone is still hung up, right? A call can just as easly be made, the only difference is that the phone cable protrudes from the top rather than the bottom. So what's the fuss about? Why have I encountered individuals who oppose my actions and think me a nuisance, a trouble-maker, a no-good rabblerouser?
Well obviously the answer will be different for everyone. But I suspect that most dissenters oppose because they don't like me or anyone else messing with the state of things, changing their reality. Upside-down phones have the "up" side down! It's backwards! Unnerving, even. But have they ever stopped to consider that maybe the side with the cable coming out IS the top side? Why not? If you allow the phone to dangle freely from it's cable, gravity gives us a new idea of what up and down is. So who decides which side is up and which is down? And as long as the phone is hung up, does it even matter?
For me, flipping phones is a sort of devil's advocacy. It is a challenge for people to examine the world from a view point that they might not have considered before. It is a challenge for people to take on a new sort of understanding. And it's simple. It's a statement that requires no skill whatsoever to make. In the sense that anyone can do it, it's the peoples' artform. Moreover, it is an extension of what I am pursuing in life. As a christ-follower, I want to be actively involved in ushering in a Kingdom of peace, love, joy, and compassion. Such a kingdom would be dramaticually different from the world in which we live and establishing it would require that the whole world essentially be turned on its head. So flipping phones is a symbolic representation of that mission for my life.
I know that I have been called to be a revolutionary, that Christ has created and called me to lead His revolution. Of course, this will take on many forms. I hope that when I die I'll be remembered for my radical acts of love and compassion, rather than seemingly futile acts like flipping phones. But flipping phones usually only takes a few seconds, and if I can get someone to think abstractly, even for only the brief moment before they pick up the phone, then it is completly worth it. Moreover, if I can get people to join in on the conversation, then that's even better. I'll probably never know why that boy at the airrport in Paris flipped the phone back; but at least I will know that for those brief moments, he was seroudly questioning his reality; and this is something we can all afford to do from time to time.
At this point in my journey, I've flipped phones in five different countries, and eight cities and by the time I get back to Orlando, I'll have added Boston to the list. I really do want to make this a global phenomenon, and I won't stop until I decide that humanity has sufficiently asked itself good questions (hehe). Provocative posters at the airport read, "Another point of view can sometimes open up a whole new world." I invite anyone who is as discontented with the state of affairs (be they spiritual, political, social, environmental, etc) to join me on my quest to demonstrating to the world that things aren't always what they seem, and quite often are not what they SHOULD be. Here's to opening up a new, better world.
The first phone-flipper I ever met was Emily McGuire. For me, no explanation was required. It seemed so funny and so relevant (to me, at least) that I knew I wanted to have something to do with it. "Feisty activism," she called it. I loved it. I began flipping phones in Orlando quite regularly, and would jump at the chance to do it in other cities and states. I just thought it was funny. Most of the time, we would do it with ninja-like stealth, as though we were involved in some kind of dangerous counter-cultural movement. After a while, though, I was forced to reckon with the logic behind my actions. I can still remember the first time someone opposed me.
I was at the dollar movie theater on Colonial with some friends and I hastily flipped the single payphone in the lobby as we waited in line at the ticketbooth. My good friend Ricky, who had just witnessed his first phone-flip looked at me incredulously and immediately walked over to the same phone and corrected the "problem." I couldn't believe it. Why would he do that? What was he thinking? What difference does it make to him that I've flipped a public telephone? When I asked him these questions, he of course asked the logic behind my own actions and I think I was just as speechless as he. I didn't really understand at the time why I would be compelled to do such a thing, but I did know that this very simple action, which seemed revolutionary even, resonated loudly within my soul. Somehow, this statement was not only a comic satire, but also a serious sociopolitical statement. My passion for phone flippage increased as the time for my trip drew near. I was looking forward to flipping phones in foreign countries, to making this an international phenomenon. I started in LA and Tokyo and my queer acts quickly aroused suspicion in my Thailand group members. Bernard asked, with genuine interest, what it was all about. He wasn't opposed, necessarily, just curious. Again, I had to think hard about what I was doing. I thought back to Emily's description: feisty activism. Is that all it is? Just fiesty? I had problems with this term. While flipping phones certainly is subversive, I wouldn't say that it is fiesty. "Feisty" implies a mild antagonsim, which is not at all my intention. Through explaining it to Bernard, I came to a much more refined and logical understanding of why I flip phones and why I find it to be so important. The new description I adopted was "absurdist activism." I could easily recognize the act as some kind of performance art, so when I tried to slassify it in artistic terms, the best word I could find was absurdism. Just as Picasso reorganized facial features, I flip phones. The observer is asked to question their reality. My simple act is simply asking others to follow me into Alice's fabled rabbit hole, where what is... isn't; where everything is its opposite; where down is up and up is down. I do this because I feel that people don't question their reality enough. They just always assume that everything is the way that they've come to understand it. Then they see gravity hanging something the "wrong" way and they have to ask themselves why they would consider it wrong. I mean, the phone is still hung up, right? A call can just as easly be made, the only difference is that the phone cable protrudes from the top rather than the bottom. So what's the fuss about? Why have I encountered individuals who oppose my actions and think me a nuisance, a trouble-maker, a no-good rabblerouser?
Well obviously the answer will be different for everyone. But I suspect that most dissenters oppose because they don't like me or anyone else messing with the state of things, changing their reality. Upside-down phones have the "up" side down! It's backwards! Unnerving, even. But have they ever stopped to consider that maybe the side with the cable coming out IS the top side? Why not? If you allow the phone to dangle freely from it's cable, gravity gives us a new idea of what up and down is. So who decides which side is up and which is down? And as long as the phone is hung up, does it even matter?
For me, flipping phones is a sort of devil's advocacy. It is a challenge for people to examine the world from a view point that they might not have considered before. It is a challenge for people to take on a new sort of understanding. And it's simple. It's a statement that requires no skill whatsoever to make. In the sense that anyone can do it, it's the peoples' artform. Moreover, it is an extension of what I am pursuing in life. As a christ-follower, I want to be actively involved in ushering in a Kingdom of peace, love, joy, and compassion. Such a kingdom would be dramaticually different from the world in which we live and establishing it would require that the whole world essentially be turned on its head. So flipping phones is a symbolic representation of that mission for my life.
I know that I have been called to be a revolutionary, that Christ has created and called me to lead His revolution. Of course, this will take on many forms. I hope that when I die I'll be remembered for my radical acts of love and compassion, rather than seemingly futile acts like flipping phones. But flipping phones usually only takes a few seconds, and if I can get someone to think abstractly, even for only the brief moment before they pick up the phone, then it is completly worth it. Moreover, if I can get people to join in on the conversation, then that's even better. I'll probably never know why that boy at the airrport in Paris flipped the phone back; but at least I will know that for those brief moments, he was seroudly questioning his reality; and this is something we can all afford to do from time to time.
At this point in my journey, I've flipped phones in five different countries, and eight cities and by the time I get back to Orlando, I'll have added Boston to the list. I really do want to make this a global phenomenon, and I won't stop until I decide that humanity has sufficiently asked itself good questions (hehe). Provocative posters at the airport read, "Another point of view can sometimes open up a whole new world." I invite anyone who is as discontented with the state of affairs (be they spiritual, political, social, environmental, etc) to join me on my quest to demonstrating to the world that things aren't always what they seem, and quite often are not what they SHOULD be. Here's to opening up a new, better world.
