Between those hand-held pistols and that trans-galactic portal, Trekkies have established a fine history of gizmo manipulation. That’s why it came as only a mild shock last winter when an Internet technology news site revealed Star Trek enthusiasts’ latest plans: “Trekkie game players to use cell phones as `communicators.'”

Ah, yes. “Communicators.” A simple enough plan from folks mostly known for unconventional social habits. They might be on to something.

The invention of the cell phone ushered in a new age in interpersonal communication – with their briefcase-sized phones, ’80s businessmen could reserve terrific tables at trendy restaurants. The proliferation of the cell phone (Verizon Wireless alone has 28 million subscribers) has ushered in an age of impersonal communication.

Just look at the signs of the times:

Phones ring in theaters, phones ring in classes, phones ring in church. And people answer them.

People on the train pretend not to hear their neighbors discussing matters that used to be relegated to closed rooms.

The insidious insensitivity of call waiting has been replaced by the outright rudeness of ringing, singing and buzzing cell phones. They interrupt conversations – real conversations – the kind people have when they look each other in the eyes and open their mouths.

When my friends turn from me at the table and answer their cell phones, they really are putting me on hold.

And what is so important, anyway? How did the world get on before a wireless net embraced the better part of its inhabitants? It stands to reason that our forbearers at Georgetown either weren’t as busy as we are, weren’t as important as we are or could scream much louder than we can.

Sure the cell phone is a neat gadget, a nifty gizmo, a high-tech doodad with all the bells and whistles expected of such machinery. But it is also the latest evidence that for all technology does to connect us, it only pulls us apart.

The rise of computers has led to a search for the ultimate artificial intelligence – a computer that can outthink a human. The rise of e-mail and “instant messaging” has allowed thoughtless, muddled messages to replace meaningful, well-written letters. Technology is changing more than the ways we communicate; it is challenging our ability to communicate.

This is no time for Luddism. Cell phones are safe from my 33-inch baseball bat. But are we safe from them?

Of course there are the outright health concerns: the possibility that they may leak radiation and dangers they pose to drivers. But the real dangers are social ones.

We are on the verge of becoming a society constantly on call, where there is no such thing as private time. Virtual interaction is replacing actual interaction – why go on a date when you’ve got a phone?

The cell phone is ultimately a convenience item, like a nice, big bottle of premium shampoo. Excepting car phones, which can be life saving in an accident (and hazardous when used while driving), cell phones don’t offer enough benefits to outweigh their costs.

But maybe when I get important, I’ll get a cell phone. I can be the human version of Windows 95, a real multi-tasker. I’ll get dressed while I shave while I drive while I chew bubble gum and talk on the phone. I’ll set my ringer to play something sophisticated, Bach probably. And I’ll leave it on all day and all night, in sickness and in .

BRrrRING BRrrrrRING.

I know. You’ve gotta take that one.

Tim Haggerty is a junior in the College and editor in chief of The Hoya.