Squirrels and Bluetooth: An Odd Connection
Harold Bloom once remarked that the squirrels outside his home were “untending” him. At the time, it seemed a bit eccentric, but being older and wiser, I chose to believe him.
Do you remember hearing that? Fifteen years on, I can’t help but wonder if he was onto something.
Have you ever used a Bluetooth device only to find it failing when you needed it most? It’s frustrating, right? Sometimes they just decide to play tricks on us at the worst moments.
Is it really the technology that’s faulty? Or could it be… us?
Do you understand how Bluetooth works? Probably not—it’s more about recognizing when it doesn’t function well.
Maybe it’s a frequency issue. Essentially, Bluetooth relies on certain wavelengths to connect devices like earbuds to smartphones. Yet, it doesn’t always behave as it should.
Is your battery low? Maybe there’s a wiring problem. It’s hard to say.
And speaking of uncertainty, what about squirrels? Ever felt like they were yelling just at you?
You and the squirrel actually share a sort of wavelength connection. It’s partly physical—through sight and sound—yet I suspect it’s also more complex. We can’t truly grasp how squirrels experience their world, just like we can’t fathom how bats use echolocation or how bees communicate through dance.
So, in a way, you and that squirrel are connected via an organic version of Bluetooth.
If you disrupt their space, they might react—maybe by yelling at you or expressing frustration. They might even act more aggressively if they’re in a bad mood. But perhaps, if they seem restless, they’re just inviting you to chill out a bit and enjoy the outdoors, or perhaps they’re asking you to leave that one nut alone.
Once, I visited a sacred lake—not a shop. The squirrels there had a vibe. Show them kindness, and they’d reciprocate. Act disrespectfully, and they’d definitely let you know.
This feels like a kind of Bluetooth connection, doesn’t it?
Sure, it’s not the kind of device you can turn on or off. But there is a life pulsating all around you, and you may be tapping into something that exists beyond your comprehension.
The science behind Bluetooth is murky, isn’t it? Does it cause cancer? Autism? Who really knows? A week ago, I read that The Lancet stated there isn’t a clear binary in sex. Isn’t it strange how some social perceptions shape medical understanding?
Hand your questions over to the esteemed professors at Harvard, and you might find answers that feel just as elusive. Sometimes, communicating peacefully with a squirrel seems a lot more sensible.
In a way, those professors might have a lot less wisdom than a young child wielding a BB gun—at least the kid might use it to protect his home from the squirrels raiding the pantry.
It’s all more natural, really, than subscribing to rigid doctrines of biology while ignoring common sense.
Harold Bloom, a Yale professor, had an immense love for the books he devoured. His intellect often felt lofty. I’d imagine he took leisurely strolls, perhaps even sharing a moment with one of those squirrels.
Did they feel his presence? Maybe they grumbled in his direction, or perhaps they just aimed to coexist peacefully.
Have you ever reached out mentally to control someone else’s Bluetooth device? Maybe the interference is all in your head—like when your device fails to connect right when you need it. Could that frustration be the issue?
Who knows? Squirrels often make far more sense than Bluetooth ever could. They might be loud, but at least they don’t bring the dire implications that people fear. Life is definitely a mixed bag.





