I would like to consider myself good with technology. I am the go-to in the family for technology questions – mostly Wifi troubleshooting – and when my resume reads “proficient in Microsoft Excel” it really just means I’m good at Googling how to do something until I figure it out. But never in my life have I encountered a useful QR code. The first time I saw them (probably late middle school) it was a fun thing to try out, a party trick at best, and that’s where my relationship with QR codes began and ended. I thoroughly enjoyed the link to WTF QR Codes that Tamara Kneese provided in her piece, because to me I have always found them uncomfortable and out of place.
Sure, QR codes may be more graceful than tiny.urls or anything that starts with “http://,” but in my opinion they are still the ugly step-sibling next to the elegant barcode. There’s just something uncomfortable about all those tiny boxes lined up, like a puzzle piece forced into a spot where it didn’t belong. Even more uncomfortable, though, is Kneese’s point that, “When the advertising campaign ends or a company nosedives and disappears, the QR code itself may endure on these materials.” And maybe that’s why I have a thing against them, they just seem so useless. I don’t care if it’s plastered in gold, I do not want any gimmicky technology looking out of place on any tombstone of mine. Furthermore, Kneese’s argument that the commercial nature of QR codes feels unnatural in a serious presence like a graveyard really hit home for me.
To me, graveyards are a place to be alone with the memory of whoever you may be visiting, not a place to whip out your phone and check Facebook while trying not to get distracted by all the other notifications. Using a phone to scan a QR code feels a bit like pulling your phone out during a funeral and watching old videos of the two of you together. Like: I get it, the sentiment is there, but it just does not feel right.