shambling the avenue; Bluetooth stuck up your ear, thumbs-a-Twitter.
Your GPS-enabled phone is piloting you to a meet-up with your pub
posse. You pinch to zoom the map, but the boss’ IM interrupts with
a snarl about the afternoon meeting so now you’re pondering a new
spin on "the dog ate my homework."
calendar is pleading about orphan dry cleaning. And at this moment,
that girl from last century pings: She’s friend-ing you on Fbook,
and "whatcha been up to and how come your profile says you’re
single" when she thought you’d hooked up semi-permanently with
And it’s only
2009. Cheer up. It gets a whole lot deeper soon. Everyone will know
literally everything about you. And resistance is worse than futile;
it will be cleansed. Sometime this century – likely sooner
than later – the trend lines of human vanity, self-indulgence,
quest for personal perfection and general laziness will cross with
those of computer processing power, machine dexterity, smart search,
molecular manipulation and sensor acuity.