We’re in the midst of a revolution. Didn’t you know? The clunky cell phone in your pocket that felt pretty darn futuristic just a few years ago is about to morph into something totally amazing, something that will markedly improve the quality of your day-to-day existence.

Soon, in the palm of your hand, you will literally hold everything you need to survive on planet earth: phone, e-mail, Internet, daily calendar, maps, GPS, iTunes, text messaging, camera and stock quotes. Of course, I’m talking about the iPhone — Apple’s recent entry into the mobile device marketplace.

And if we’re really lucky, subsequent editions of the iPhone will control human breathing and decision-making. Think about all the excuses we’ll be able to make: “I’m sorry I lost my temper with you, my iPhone is on the fritz” or “I don’t think I can exercise today, my iPhone wants to see ‘Pirates of The Caribbean 6.’” Is it possible that, one day, when a devoted “user” passes away, he or she could be cremated and laid to rest inside their phone? You know, an iCoffin.

If you think about it, they should just call it iEverything or iGod. Who needs this pesky free will thing anyway?

In case you’re brain dead or still use a rotary phone, let me explain a few things. Several years ago, after telecommunications firms outfitted all six billion people on the planet with mobile phones, the executives in charge of these massively lucrative companies decided there were even more market opportunities to pursue. If everyone (man, woman, child, rich, poor, smart, dumb) was willing to pay a relatively hefty fee to carry their phone around with them, how much would they pay to lug their computer around? In business parlance, we call this “Extracting Revenue From Suckers.”

Sure, there are plenty of on-the-go business people for whom real-time e-mail and document access is convenient, and even borderline necessary, but does the average Jane or Larry really need this technological smorgasbord at their fingertips? Combine this phenomenon with the explosion of the iPod over the past five years, and it was inevitable that Apple was going to build a device combining it with these smart phone features.

I won’t lampoon or criticize the ascension of the iPod. It’s a genuine hit product that has changed the way people listen to music. I just don’t use mine. Ever. And I think sometimes the large technology companies (and popular media/culture) cast a wide net in assuming that every single person wants and needs instant access to 3,000 songs in their hip pocket (by the way, when did we get to the point that we all loved thousands upon thousands of songs ... aren’t there still some songs and albums that stink to high heaven and deserve to sit under your bed in their jewel cases for all eternity?).

Hey, I love listening to a nice jingle on the radio once in awhile, but music doesn’t do it for me as much as other people. I certainly don’t want to waste my free time fiddling with the “music library” on my computer, setting up playlists and downloading the totality of my CD collection. But when my grandkids look back on this era, they’ll assume grandpa skipped from place to place with jangly white headphones hanging down from his ears like everyone else in the history books.

On the same point, I don’t blame Apple for the idiotic notion of “convergence” that demands every cell phone going forward combine the computing power of a NASA space shuttle with almost limitless music capacity. Cell phone manufacturers are already trying to ram unwanted features down our throats. I dare you to find a phone on the market without “play,” “stop” and “pause” buttons on the front facade. It’s just that Apple is so adept at making sleek, accessible consumer products that I know we’re headed for a tipping point where smart phones will be the rule rather than the exception.

I suppose it’s worthless to stubbornly stick my head in the sand while the winds of change swirl all around us. So this June, when the iPhone is released, maybe I should head down to the nifty Apple store on The Third Street Promenade and just take my medicine. After all, it will probably be the last decision I make on my own without my new, shiny iFriend.

Seth Barnes can be reached at barnesseth@hotmail.com.