The Future Has Solved Nothing – Other Than the Itch in Our Pants

Remember the Pepsi Chart Show? Dreadful

Recently Felix ‘The Cat’ Baumgartner made his historic plummet from the heavens and in doing so broke 2 world records – one for speed, the other for height. There were rumours he would break the record for shittest microphone too but it turns out that the guys over at Channel AKA have that one sewn up. When he did this and we watched the moment when a human being fell to earth like a dinosaur-killing comet my girlfriend turned to me and said, “What’s the point of that?”

Usually I would answer back “Science! The advancement of our species in discovering all there is to see and experiencing all there is to feel” but I didn’t. I shrug, said “Dunno” and went back to my dinner. The problem is that nowadays I don’t feel that Science! is advancing our species anymore. When I was a boy I would love to watch Space Precinct (and to a lesser extent Space 1999) in which the future – 2040 to be exact – was a magical mystical world involving whizzy flying cars, pew-pew laser guns and aliens with normal human-shpaed bodies and fish heads. At the age of only 9 or 10, with the internet gathering speed and mobile phones then becoming less like extraneous limbs to lug around there was a certainty that we would be on Mars in a few years and then who knows where! There would be food in pill form, TV you could control with your mind, space really would be the final frontier!

Cycle forward nearly 20 years. Phones have become so small they are getting bigger again; TV’s can be controlled with hand gestures but you have to gesticulate so wildly to get the thing’s attention that a passer-by might think you had sat on a car battery; food isn’t in pill form and it is getting worse for you – just ask the south of the US and finally the internet. It hasn’t really been the great tool to save mankind has it?

When we first got the internet in 1995 my dad told me explicitly that I must notify him if I was going to use it and that I mustn’t be on it long as it cost an arm and a leg and took out the phone line rendering us uncontactable. Many people thought that these restrictions made the ‘net a waste of time (me included). Then in the mid 2000s we were treated to broadband. Now you got your phone line back, it didn’t cost a lot and you could actually use the internet smoothly with fast surf speeds! Now this will herald a new age! We will be having chips implanted in our minds in a matter of months.

Nope (again). Now we have fibre optic broadband. We can surf the net faster than ever, download files of a massive size in a fraction of the time it used to take, we have internet on the go and can perform tasks like meet people in Tokyo over the information super-highway. But what is the main purpose of the internet? Wanking.

The world-wide wanking emporium. If you don’t believe me, go to your Google Image search page now and type in ‘Sunny’. Yup loads of pictures of the sun. Oh look there’s the babyfaced sun from Teletubbies! Now go up to the SafeSearch and turn it from Strict to Off…. See those? Those are woman’s boobs. And that was without trying! There is an internet rule known as ‘Rule 34’ which states that “if it exists, there is porn of it”. In fact there is even a site called ‘Rule 34’ which goes one better than Google’s SafeSearch and just cuts out anything that isn’t porn – though what is left behind is mostly creepy Japanese drawings of your favourite childhood characters being buggered. It’s not something to view over lunch.

And it’s everywhere and getting creepier by the second. If you Google search any female celebrity who is under 50 the first few suggestions you get from the search bar will be [Name], [Name] twitter, [Name] feet, [Name] tumblr. Feet?! Really? They are the least sexy part of a body (just beating the bit on the back of your elbow). In fact there is actually a site called wikifeet which proudly devoted to the bony thing at the end of your legs. There are even rules: “We accept pictures that show toes, soles and arches. shoes and socks pictures do not belong on wikiFeet”. The lengths that people will go to in the name of self-gratification is outstanding. If we maybe put a little of the effort we put in to jackin’ it into something like space travel or world peace maybe we might get somewhere towards the dreams we all have. Where is my damn jetpack?!

I assume it must just be men (though I’m sure women are just as bad – having never been one I don’t know) but the wang-based thought processes are disturbing. Any female celebrity on Facebook/Instagram/Twitter will have to endure comments from well-meaning, but frustrated, palm-jockeys. Put up a picture of whatever they are up to that day and there will always be a response of “U R well fit fam and ting. I wanna bone u and shit all nite long…. Blud and bones”. Everyone is looking for that onesome or they think that the celebrity will see this and suddenly be overcome with amour and rush into their cyber arms. And it isn’t just the net. There is sexting, a horrible word for a pointless act, or you can ring asthmatic women who will tell you they are naked and oiled up even if they are in their PJs in front of Downton Abbey. You can even ring the TV and get the pretty lady to jiggle like a voice controlled puppet for you! The wonders of technology.

So that’s it. The future is here and it has us all sitting in front of the computer, cross-eyed and sweating, masturbating like a chimp in a zoo. Well done us, we must be so proud.

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