the typewriter has splintered woman from the home and turned 
her into a specialist in the office, the telephone gave her back 
to the executive world as a general means of harmony, an 
invitation to happiness, and a sort of combined confessional-
and-wailing wall for the immature American executive.

     The typewriter and the telephone are most unidentical 
twins that have taken over the revamping of the American girl 
with technological ruthlessness and thoroughness.

     Since all media are fragments of ourselves extended into 
the public domain, the action upon us of any one medium 
tends to bring the other senses into play in a new relation. As 
we read, we provide a sound track for the printed word; as we 
listen to the radio, we provide a visual accompaniment. Why 
can we not visualize while telephoning? At once the reader will