BEAM ME UP, POLLY

This week I bought the Apple Airport for wireless internet to my laptop. It’s something I’d been saving for and I have to admit, it’s SO COOL. It sleekly sits on my desk like an Alien breast implant emiting WebRays. I am giddy in its coolness. I have the same physical sensations I had when I got a new toy as a child.

I’m actually holding the box, in my room, not surrounded by all the other shoppers in the store, greedy children and their exhausted mothers who may snatch my chance for happiness away at any second. Here at home I can touch my New Toy anywhere I want and noone can stop me. I have the map to an endless road of Playtimes, journeys shared only by the few who also have the same toy. I think of others without the toy, sitting in their own rooms, unaware of what they’re missing. Valiantly playing with their Old Toys, toys that to be honest, well, only do so much. Oh they will look at my New Toy but we all know it’s not the same.

The coolest thing about my new Apple Airport is its like magic. It beams web pages in zillions of gnat-like colors who fly in a giant swarm through the air and enter my computer to reassemble themselves according to some complicated scientific construct. In truth, that’s not too far from reality minus the multi-colored raybeam. If I had a giant ring, or a Hula Hoop, I could pass it around and over my iBook, demonstrating to the Oohing and Ahhing audience the miracle I possess. Polly would be my beautiful assistant, lounging directly between my computer and the base station, the infinite gnat-rays passing directly through her body.

“WHAT WILL BE THE EFFECT TO THIS SIMPLE CREATURE OF GOD?” I dramatically pose to the expectant and silent crowd, “WILL SHE REMAIN DOG OR ARISE AS A NEW CREATURE, SOMETHING WE’RE UNABLE TO STOP DESPITE ALL OUR MODERN TECHNOLOGY? WILL SHE TRANSFORM INTO... A DOG-BOT?”

The crowd gasps and steps back. Polly rises and looks around as mothers clasp children to their breasts. Polly then shakes her fur and yawns as the crowd emits a loud sigh of relief. Everyone remarks how cute she is and several toddlers beg to touch the “Madic Doddy”.

Only later after I sign on the internet do I notice the changes. The windows randomly roll over with urgent messages to scratch their toolbars. Should the phone ring, the web page gets bigger and bigger until I’m forced to turn my attention back to my computer. I give programs commands but because they love me so much they do everything at once in hopes one of the responses was right. Somehow, my experiment has gone awry and now I’ve created a, a...

A message blinks on the screen. “Call me Fifi.”

Man, how cool is that?


12:35:33 PM    sro home /